Page 60 of Under Pressure

His words hit their target, deep and hard, reminding her of all the lives she’d ruined. Her dad’s, her brother’s, Sean’s, her own. She slammed her soda down, and it frothed over the side with a fizzing sound, and over the side of her hand like a wave, soaking it. She reached for a paper towel and wiped off her hand and then the counter. Silence wove around the two of them and then worked its way between the words she grasped for.

She didn’t want to do this, so she tried changing the subject. “Did you know there’s a barber in town named Ryker Rockefeller?” That was news he should probably be aware of.

“Stop trying to change the subject.” Dad came up beside her. “You’ve been pushing this wedding back for months. What’s brought this on?”

“Nothing,” she said, and grabbed a towel to clean up her spill. “It’s just time. I’m done waiting.”

Dad took the towel from her. “Don’t marry him.”

She faced her dad. “Why not?”

He folded his bulky arms over his chest. “Because you don’t love him. You love Sean.”

“Well, Sean’s not an option, Dad.” She grabbed the towel from him. “Hasn’t been for a long time.”

“Vittoria!” he slammed his hand down on the counter with a loud, reverberating slap. “Don’t settle for second best. Fight for first.”

She faced him as her emotions whipped around inside her like pinball getting whacked at every turn.

“Please, don’t let me see you suffer a loveless marriage like I did.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t make me suffer that.”

She shrugged his hand off her shoulder. “Who says it’s loveless?” It wasn’t loveless but it was less love. But she wasn’tblind to the fact that Jonah didn’t love her like Sean did. He couldn’t. They were different men and she was a different woman with both of them. So what if she liked the version of herself she was with Sean more than the Jonah version? That was not the point. The point was that she wasn’t going to wait around for Sean ever again! He’d made his choice and she’d had to live with it even when it made her ache and for a while, she’d even lost her creative spark.

She had that back now. Had worked hard to turn it into a thriving business.Without Sean!

If she could do that, then she could get married too.

“I’m marrying Jonah tomorrow. If you don’t want to witness thetravestyof my loveless marriage, then don’t come. But I hope you’ll be there.” She headed for the front door. “I’m going to close the shutters.”

This was it. She was finally moving on with her life. No turning back now.

11

Chapter 11

Don

At 1630 hours, Sandy’s party ended with the Emergency Alert and Sean’s abrupt departure—followed quickly by Bluebell’s hasty retreat. Don wished he knew what it was she and Sean had talked about on the porch that had upset her so much. Whatever it was, it had her bolting out of there lickety-split.

Nancy had sent a group text, asking everyone to meet in the conference room. Don looked around his bungalow full of his family and wanted out so badly his teeth ached. It was about time the team started taking the Sean/Bluebell situation seriously.

He made up some excuse about grabbing supplies, and took off, barely shaking Johnny at the door when he offered to come. “Stay with your mother,” he barked.

Johnny backed off as if Sweetie had taken a nip at him.

It wasn’t far to the conference room and Don’s legs chewed up the distance in no time. He’d have burst into a jog but didn’t want to alarm any of his nosey grandsons or son who may be watching him leave.

Polly and Rosa must have reported back to the group what Don already knew. Sean and Bluebell were perfect for one another and Jonah was a cad. His smile was as false as half the teeth in The Palms and his manners were too practiced to be real.

Not to mention, he had a wimpy handshake. His palm practically crumbled inside Don’s grip. Baby.

Now that they were on the same page, they could finally start moving forward. He was just glad they came to their senses before the hurricane hit. If his plans worked, they might just have this all resolved by the time the hurricane passed.

The main building was bustling with employees going through the hurricane drills they’d run a hundred times—like bees in a hive with Samantha in the middle, the queen, doling out assignments. She waved at Don as he passed, and he saluted in return. Normally he’d want her in the conference room, but she had enough on her plate as it was. Thankfully, they were prepared in large part thanks to Samantha. They had enough food storage at The Palms to last them through the Second Coming. Which was one of the reasons he’d decided moving here was the right choice.

Not only did it have all the latest care for those suffering from Alzheimer’s, not only were the houses practical and comfortable, the staff friendly, but they were always prepared for everything.

Before the hurricane started, all the residents in the main building would be relocated to one of three places on the property that were on main floors, in the middle of buildings, with no windows—as per regulation. Entertainment, including movies, card games, and puzzles stocked each location and the residents would be perfectly comfortable waiting out the storm.

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