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  Paige’s Turn

  Jennifer Peel

  Copyright © 2017 by Jennifer Peel

  All rights reserved.

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader or share it through the Kindle lending feature. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy through Amazon Kindle. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  To Liza Paige,

  I adore you. I’m one of your biggest fans.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Epilogue

  Preview: Christopher and Jaime

  Prologue

  Even before he told me, I knew in my heart that he had found another, but it didn’t temper the sting when he confirmed it today. Maybe because he broke the news to me where he first told me he loved me, where we shared our first kiss when he was seven and I was six. I should have climbed down when I saw him approach the treehouse, but I had hoped that my intuition was wrong. That Jansen McClain’s promises were true. I wanted to believe in the magic of childhood love. I wanted to believe in love.

  After all, how many love stories had I read in this very place, high above the ground? My own secret garden amongst the branches of the live oak tree that stood proud in Aunt Mitzi’s yard. But more than love stories had been read in my paradise. Aunt Mitzi, from the time I could remember, had filled me with stories of adventure and bravery. I had been a pirate, a captain, a scientist, an explorer. But never a damsel in distress or a princess. Well, maybe I had imagined myself a princess a time or two or three. But only when Sam, my older brother’s best friend, would visit. He said I reminded him of Rapunzel sitting up high in my treehouse with my golden blonde hair, so he began to call me Princess. He was the only one who ever called me that.

  I wasn’t the kind of girl that got much attention. My hair was limp, as was my skinny frame. There was nothing extraordinary about me, just ask my mother. I would never compare to my beautiful younger sister, Maggie, with raven tresses and flawless skin, or the memory of my perfect older brother, Blair, who we lost tragically when I was fifteen in a car accident, three years ago. I mourned his death high above the ground. Now I was mourning Jansen.

  I wiped my pale blue eyes and lay down on the hard wood floor. I listened to the birds rustling above me in the leafy tree tops. If only I could fly away.

  Why did I believe Jansen when he left for the University of Florida last year and told me that he would stay true to me? It was like Mitzi said, “A foolish promise made by a boy who has no idea what it’s like to be a man.” The promises of men meant very little to her. That’s probably why she never married.

  Now what was I going to do? I was supposed to join Jansen at UF in the fall, in a few short months. We had planned our summer out already. I sat up, and through my blurry eyes I looked across Mitzi’s expansive grounds to eye the McClain’s pool. I had intended to spend a good portion of my summer there, like I had every year for the past several years. Jansen was more than a boyfriend; he was my best friend. That all changed today as he held my hand and told me he had fallen in love with Lia Carmichael. He had never said my name the way he spoke hers today. It was as if his eyes had been opened for the first time to the beauty around him.

  More tears slid down my cheeks. I pulled my knees up close to my chest. Yep, skinny legs and knobby knees. I imagined Lia with long, luxurious legs, and a body to match. Mitzi said I was a late bloomer. She said that one day, I would realize how beautiful I was and when that happened, the world should watch out. I was beginning to think she was a liar, too, except Mitzi never lied or shied away from the truth, even when she probably should have. She spoke her mind and she didn’t care what anyone thought about her.

  I had no delusions about being beautiful.

  The hum of the riding lawn mower shook me out of my pity party. I wiped my eyes and scooted away from the ladder of the treehouse. Hopefully Sam wouldn’t see me. He always made it a point to say hi whenever he did. I usually looked forward to it, but not in my current state. Besides, I had always had a crush on him, but he was five years older than me and way out of my league. He and Blair had been the exact opposite of me in high school—gorgeous and popular.

  Sam worked for his father’s landscape company, Kennedy DreamScapes, in the summer. Or maybe full-time now. Since Blair passed away, I didn’t know much about his life. Not like I did before, except that he and Blair had treated me with kindness. Blair was everything a big brother should be. When he was around, I had an open invitation to tag along. I never did, though, because I felt too self-conscious around his crowd. You don’t know how much I regretted that now. I would have spent every moment I could have with him, had I known. More tears flowed.

  The gentle hum of the lawnmower drew closer until it was silent.

  I retreated farther back into my treehouse, which was more like a lookout with a wood canopy. Grandpa Hollis had built it when Blair was born, but it was mine.

  “Paige,” Sam called out my name.

  Did he see me or could I pretend I wasn’t there?

  “Calling Princess Paige.” He was twenty-three and still a goofball, a gorgeous goofball.

  “Hi.” I hoped that was enough for him. I wasn’t in the mood to see anyone.

  “Are you hiding?” He wasn’t taking the hint.

  “Just reading.” I grabbed my copy of Little Women, one of my childhood favorites, so I wasn’t a complete liar.

  “Take a break and come down for a minute.”

  “That’s okay.” I shuddered involuntarily.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Uh-huh.” Please go away.

  “Paige?”

  “Really, I’m fine.” I thought that did the trick, but I heard the creak of the wood ladder. I sniffed and tried to wipe any moisture I could off my cheeks. Not that it would do any good. I imagined my eyes were red and my cheeks were splotchy. Not that it mattered, because I knew how plain I was, but this was adding insult to injury.

  Sam’s handsome head popped up over the horizon of the treehouse. “I’ve always wanted to come up here.” His hazel eyes went well with his dark brown hair and tanned skin.

  I sat up straighter and set my book down. “It’s not much.”

  He tilted his head. “Why are you crying?”

  “No reason.”

  “Liar.” He finished his climb and joined me in the small space.

  I scooted back against the railing.

  He sat crossed-legged and stared at me. His masculine physique and tall frame looked out of place sitting up here. “What has made the princess unhappy?”

  I gave him a small smile. I appreciated his big brother kindness, even if my raised pulse indicated I felt nothing brotherly for him. “I’m eighteen now. I think you can stop calling me princess.”

  “Is that why you’re crying?” He smirked.

  “Yes.”

  “Really?” He scooted closer in the confined space.

  I had nowhere else to go, but my heart rate increased. I looked down. “Jansen broke up with me.”

  “Good.”

  My head popped up. “Why would you say that?”

  “Blair and I always thought he was a punk. And you’re too good for him.”

  He must not have known about my invisible reputation in high school. I’m not sure he knew me at all. “You’re just saying that.”

  He shook his head. “Why would I, if I didn’t think it was true?”

  I shrugged. “Because of Blair.” I choked on his name. I still missed him.

  “I miss him too.” Sam wiped his brow. He was sweaty and dirty, but still beautiful. “Believe me, you can do better than the moron next door.”

  I tucked some of my long hair behind my ear.

  “I heard you got into UF and your aunt mentioned Whitman. Going high-class, huh?” Sam gave me an encouraging smile.

  My parents would never allow me to go to Whitman, even though it was my dream and I’d received a scholarship. Jameses and Hollises had attended the University of Florida for the last century. And I had to as well, because even with a scholarship to Whitman, the private liberal arts college in Washington would still cost a fortune, and my parents wouldn’t spend that kind of money on me. Maggie, yes. “I’m headed to Gainesville.”

  “It’s not that bad, and UF is a good school.” Blair and Sam had both attended.

  I nodded. It was.

  “Well, I better get back to work. Take care of yourself, Princess Paige. And don’t let just any yahoo climb up your castle wall.”

  A small laugh escaped. No one was beating down the
castle doors, I assure you. Besides Jansen, no other male besides my relations had ever even tried to climb up the ladder until today.

  Sam paused for a moment. He cocked his head and looked me over. “You know, you’re pretty when you smile.”

  Heat rose to not only my cheeks, but every body part I could name. “You don’t have to say that.”

  He leaned toward me.

  I braced myself against the railing, surprised.

  His warm lips landed on my cheek. “I know that. Take care of yourself, Princess.”

  He left in a hurry, leaving me stunned. I rubbed my cheek. For a few minutes, I forgot that Jansen had broken up with me and that I was plain and invisible. In that moment, I found courage to see myself in a different way, if only for a few minutes. To picture my life how I wanted it to be. To do what Aunt Mitzi had been encouraging me to do my whole life. “Don’t let anyone else take your turn,” she would say. “No one will do it as well as you were meant to.”

  Maybe it was time for me to take my turn.

  Chapter One

  Ten Years Later

  I stared aimlessly at the gas station pump as the cents turned into dollars and the dollars added up. I don’t know how many times I had put gas in the car since I left Seattle to trek the three thousand miles back home, or back to Bella Port. I wasn’t sure I could ever call it home again, but I hoped this was one of my last stops outside of Nashville. Seven hours to go, I tried to comfort myself.

  I was only coming home because of Aunt Mitzi. I held back the tears in the warm late May air. She wasn’t supposed to leave me. She was too feisty to die. I ran my fingers through my curled medium-length hair and smiled. At least she did it her way. I shouldn’t have been surprised or upset that she refused treatment for her pancreatic cancer and didn’t tell a soul except for her lawyer and the executor of her will, Mr. Perkins. But I was angry at her for leaving me and for not giving me the chance to spend her last days by her side, where I belonged. But she explained it all in the letters she left me. She didn’t want me to have any memories of those moments.

  I slid in my car and contemplated finding a hotel to stay in. I loved Nashville, and staying meant I didn’t have to face my past or new future until tomorrow. But I knew it wouldn’t change my fate. Mitzi’s house, Hollis Mansion, would still be there, as would her bookstore, Paige’s Turn, named after yours truly. It would all be there, and it would still be mine. Including the money. Lots of money. More money than any of us ever guessed she had.

  I smiled to myself thinking about the reading of her will last month. I had flown back to Bella Port for her funeral. I hadn’t been home since Maggie got married, five years previous. I can’t say I missed my home town, unless you counted Aunt Mitzi and my treehouse. And maybe the beach. Washington had beaches, but there was nothing like a Gulf of Mexico beach—warm, with crystal blue water and white sand. So maybe it would only be mostly terrible when I returned. Mitzi had to have known the firestorm she created and was thrusting me in to. Her will only fanned the flames. How did it go again?

  My dearest Paige-ala and everyone else.

  Paige-ala was her nickname for me.

  I’ve gathered you all together to let you know, you were right. I was a wealthy woman.

  My mother, Cassandra, my aunt’s sister, nearly salivated at the news. At least for a moment. The dollar signs in her eyes were quickly replaced with rage.

  Don’t go running to the bank yet, that is, unless your name is Paige.

  All heads turned toward me. My father, mother, sister, brother-in-law, and dear, sweet Mr. Perkins who was grinning and bouncing on the balls of his feet like he had been bursting to share the news.

  I had to take a moment to let it all sink in. Yes, I had my suspicions that Mitzi made a lot more money than her bookstore ever afforded, and even more than Grandpa Hollis had left her, but who knew that she had been a savvy day trader and had hit it big in the late nineties when internet stocks went through the roof? She had taken that money and invested it in other lucrative ventures. She had a portfolio of holdings that included stocks, bonds, a myriad of accounts. It was incredible the amount of wealth she had amassed. Even more incredible was that it all belonged to me.

  I had to say, it didn’t help the strained relationship that already existed between my family and me. I’d had more phone calls from my mother the past month than I’d had the ten years since I left for college as far away as I could possibly go. I had decided to seize the day and head for Washington, and I never looked back. First, I lived in Walla Walla where I attended Whitman. Once I graduated, I took a job as an editor for a small publishing house in Seattle. I loved it. For the first time in my life I felt seen and heard. My coworkers became my friends. I was going to miss them terribly, especially since I had no idea what waited for me in Bella Port.

  I knew my mother was furious. She believed I manipulated Mitzi into leaving all her money to me. She, better than anyone, should have known that Mitzi could never be talked into anything. And if she knew me at all, she would have known I never would have tried. But she never cared enough to get to know me. I was a disappointment to her. Clumsy and plain; smart, but quiet. I would rather stay home and read than go out. Though that had changed some in Seattle. I still loved to read, but I found I did quite well in social settings. I even dated on occasion. It might have had something to do with the fact I had become friends with Aimee, the CEO of the publishing company and my previous employer. She was also my resident fashion guru and had worked her magic on me. Who knew that with the right haircut and products I could have great hair? And clumsy me learned some grace and poise doing yoga. Don’t get me wrong, if there was an accident waiting to happen, it would probably still find me, but I had finally begun to bloom. I didn’t think I had peaked, at least I hoped not, but I was finding myself.

  So, I was headed for disaster. But for Mitzi, I would do anything. Even if that meant going home, running her beloved store, and making sure that Hollis Mansion stayed well-kept and in the family, like it had been for the last one hundred years. If it wasn’t for her, I would have never had the chance to know myself. She helped finance my education with the promise that I find happiness outside of Bella Port. At least she got to see me fulfill my end of the bargain. She had visited me last Christmas and I got to show her my town and my people. I could tell she was pleased. I think she knew then something was wrong with her. She read to me like I was a girl again, and she wanted to know my plans for the future. She mentioned her hope that someday I would take on the bookstore. I had brushed it off, but now it made sense.

  I didn’t know how to run a business. My love of literature and my degree in English in no way prepared me for this challenge. But Mitzi believed in me, and so I would do my best.

  I thought of one of the notes she left me.

  Darling,

  I know Bella Port is not where you saw yourself, but think of all the delicious fun you will have taunting your family with my millions. I do hope I have been good enough, that God will give me a front row seat to all the uproar my coup has caused. I’ve been waiting for years to share this with you. You are the daughter I never had, but wished for. Except that would have meant procreating with a man, and we both know how I feel about the lesser sex.

  Speaking of the unworthy creatures, I’ve been thinking that perhaps that is one place I have steered you in the wrong direction. No one will ever be good enough for you, but I believe you, my love, will never be completely happy alone. You have so much love to share. It would be a shame for you not to try. Don’t worry, I have the perfect man in mind for you. I do hope you enjoy him. I know I have enjoyed the eye candy over the years. Can you guess who it is? If not, you will soon.

  Love, love, love you,

  Mitzi

  I had no idea who she meant or why after all these years she’d had a change of heart. I had asked if she had ever been in love, and she’d said once, but it was the worst experience of her life and she didn’t recommend it.

  Jansen was the only person I thought I had been in love with, but looking back, I realized I loved him more like a sister would a brother. He saw me when no one else did. And for that I would always love him, but I wasn’t in love with him. I had felt more passion for men I had only gone on a few dates with than I ever felt for Jansen. But I would always be grateful that he made my teenage years a little less lonely. I was happy he was happy with his wife, Lia, and their son, Ryder. I had seen them both at Mitzi’s funeral. I wondered if Lia was expecting again, but I was too polite to ask about her midsection bump, just in case.