Tattered (Lark Cove Book 1)

Shit. Shit. Fucking shit.

The last thing I wanted was for Logan to know about those emails.

We had so many more important things to worry about than some asshole who wanted to send me messages. I was sure that in a few more days, they’d stop. And if they didn’t, I’d tell Jackson. If he thought there was cause to worry, then I’d go to the sheriff. After all, it wasn’t the first time a patron had called me names. I doubted it would be the last. There was always some drunk who thought cussing at a bartender was acceptable.

I dismissed the email so I could put on my game face. We needed to be all smiles and laughs today for Logan’s family.

God, this is hard. Knowing good-bye was right around the corner was miserable. I dreaded it but wanted to get it over with all at the same time.

After Logan had fallen asleep last night, I’d fought hard not to cry again, but I’d lost the battle. So I’d escaped to Charlie’s room, where I could cry into her pillow without worrying she’d wake up.

Logan hadn’t been happy when he’d found me there this morning, but he hadn’t been angry, just worried. He kept looking at me, checking on me and touching me. I’d give him small smiles, hoping to reassure him that I was fine.

We both knew I wasn’t.

On top of it all, I was nervous for Charlie. She was meeting new grandparents today, and when I’d explained to her over breakfast we’d be spending the weekend with Logan’s parents, she’d immediately gone quiet.

She’d barely muttered anything as we’d packed our things and said good-bye to the penthouse. The three of us were staying at the Kendrick estate this weekend, then Monday morning, Charlie and I were flying home.

“How much longer?” Charlie asked from her seat.

“Just right down this road,” Logan said into the mirror. He smiled at her, then over at me, taking my hand in his.

At this point, every touch was torture. I craved them, but they stung. Still, I didn’t let go of his fingers, forcing Logan to drive with one hand.

He turned off the highway and down a road that wound past gate after gate. People didn’t get to just “pop in” around here. You made an appointment. You probably had to get a background check before they gave you a gate code to enter a property. Every home we passed got bigger and bigger until we reached the end of the road.

“Whoa.” I was stealing Charlie’s word as Logan turned down a private drive. “Is this it?”

“This is it.” Logan nodded, letting go of my hand to roll down the window as he approached the gate. An oval plaque engraved with KENDRICK was in the center of the iron bars.

I looked over my shoulder to a wide-eyed Charlie. Her mouth fell open as we pulled through the gate and slowly made our way up an incline to the mansion.

The grounds were enormous. Green grass and manicured shrubs sprawled on both sides of the drive leading to the estate. The cobblestone courtyard had enough room to fit at least ten cars, maybe more, even with the fountain in the center.

“Is this where you grew up?” I asked Logan.

“It sure is. We spent a lot of time in the city too, but this is where we lived most of the time and where I went to school.”

I couldn’t imagine being a child in this place. Like everything else about our lives, it was the polar opposite of the orphanage.

The gray stone exterior spoke to the home’s age, but it had been meticulously well kept. The many windows were large and sparkling in the afternoon sun. Their rich, cream trim matched the ornately carved scallops along the roofline.

Logan parked and shut off the car. “Ready?”

No. I nodded anyway, unbuckling my seatbelt as he went to the backseat to help Charlie out. He took her hand, leading the way to the front door.

I smoothed down the front of my jeans, wishing I’d worn the dress I’d brought for dinner. Logan was in jeans too, but his were a dark wash. Mine were cuffed in a loose boyfriend cut. My white tennis shoes were new but totally inappropriate for a home that screamed high heels only. I straightened at the hem of my black cardigan, making sure it covered my white tee and that my bra wasn’t showing through.

Charlie and I were wearing the same style today, except she had on her cap. I quickly swiped it off her head, earning a glare as I smoothed down her hair. “No hats inside.”

That had never been a rule before.

As Logan approached the front wooden door, it opened for him. The butler bowed—an actual bow—and waved us inside. “Mr. Kendrick.”

“Hello, Phil. How are you today?” Logan asked as we passed over the threshold.

“Very well, sir. Thank you. You are all set up in the guesthouse this weekend.”

“Thank you.” Logan grinned down at Charlie, swinging her hand a bit. “Phil, I’d like you to meet my daughter, Charlie. And this is my girlfriend, Thea.”

“Please to meet you, miss. Ma’am.” Phil smiled at us both, bowing again. “If that will be all, sir, I’ll take care of unpacking your belongings. Your parents have requested everyone meet in the east parlor for cocktails at five.”

“Excellent. Thanks.” Logan nodded and off Phil went, snapping his fingers as he walked out the door. From nowhere, two other butlers appeared, each wearing khaki pants and a white button-up shirt that matched Phil’s.

I followed Logan and Charlie farther inside, taking in the estate with its tall ceilings, gleaming wood and marble floors. Everything was pristine, from the crystal chandelier to the gold-framed artwork, likely worth millions. It was the most elaborate home I’d ever seen.

“Would you like a quick tour?” Logan’s voice echoed in the foyer.

Quick? Not likely. We could get lost in here. “Sure. That would be nice, wouldn’t it, Charlie?”

She nodded, her eyes scanning all over as she tried to take it all in.

We spent the next hour walking through the house where it seemed there were two of everything, formal and informal. Dining room. Sitting room. Parlors. Guest rooms. Bathrooms. Ten minutes into the tour and I was completely turned around. And the entire time, we didn’t see a single person.

Finally, after winding our way back to the main floor, Logan led us outside to a back patio. Right in its center was an enormous pool complete with a diving board, attached hot tub and mosaic mermaid tiled into the bottom.

“Mommy!” Charlie ran to the edge of the pool. “Can we go swimming?”

“Maybe tomorrow. We have to get ready for dinner tonight.”

“Oh.” She frowned, probably remembering that dinner meant another torturous dress. She shuffled back to Logan’s side just as a woman rushed out of the pool house, waving.

“Logan!” Her dark hair was tied up in a bun, much like mine, and I was relieved to see she was wearing frayed denim shorts and a tank top. Without an introduction, I knew this was Logan’s sister.

Just like I’d seen in the family picture at the penthouse, the resemblance between Charlie and Aubrey was even more uncanny in person. They had the same hair. The same nose. Even the same tilt of their upper lip.

“Hi, Aubrey.” Logan smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “Good to see you. Meet Charlie and Thea.”

Aubrey smiled at me first, then bent in front of Charlie and held out her hand. “Hi, Charlie. I’m your auntie Aubrey. Your dad has told me so much about you.”

Logan nudged Charlie and she returned Aubrey’s shake hesitantly before hiding behind his leg.

“We’ll get to know each other one of these days soon.” Aubrey winked at her, then stood again. This time she came right into my space for a tight hug. “Welcome. I’m so glad you’re both here.”

“Um, me too.” I hugged her back, unsure what else to do. I’d been prepared for a thorough inspection, so her friendly gestures were taking me off guard. If all of Logan’s family was like this, I had nothing to fear for the weekend.

“Well, I hate to say hello and run.” Aubrey glanced at her delicate gold watch. “But if I’m going to be ready for cocktail hour, I’d better get going. I need to change and return a couple of phone calls.”

“We should probably do the same.” Logan kissed his sister’s cheek once more before she disappeared inside the house. “Come on.”

He took Charlie and I each by a hand to lead us through a garden trail. At the edge of the garden, the path opened up to a huge lawn that stretched to a guesthouse set in a grove of trees at the edge of the estate.

“Is that where we’re staying?” Charlie asked, wiggling free of his grip to run on the grass.

“Yeah.” He let go of my hand and put his arm around my shoulder. “That is our spot for the weekend.”

I leaned in close, tucking my hand into the back pocket of his jeans. “This place is incredible.”

“It’s over the top but that’s Mom.”

It was over the top but still beautiful. The guesthouse ahead matched the main house, but it was much smaller and less ostentatious. It even had a porch swing by the front door. The house resembled something you might see in the wealthier neighborhoods of Lark Cove.

We walked along a paved path toward the guesthouse as Charlie ran ahead in the grass. She was making a beeline for the trees.

“Charlie!” I shouted. “Don’t get too dirty!”

“I won’t!” she called back over her shoulder.

“She totally will.”

Logan chuckled. “We’ve got time to clean her up.” He led me to the porch and toward the swing. “Come sit with me. We can let Charlie play for a little while.”

“Okay.” I sank into the wooden seat by his side, letting him gently rock us back and forth. It was cooler today, so I leaned in close.

“We need to talk.”

I smiled. “You’re supposed to say that and then hand me a tequila shot. Remember?”

“Sorry. I’m out of tequila at the moment.” He sighed. “Why didn’t you tell me about the emails? Or Giovanni’s?”

I shrugged. “Neither is that big of a deal. I’m used to taking shit from people and letting it roll off.”

“No, not anymore. You don’t take shit from anyone.”

“I work at a bar, gorgeous.” I patted his stomach with my free hand. “It’s going to happen.”

“Those emails are serious, Thea. We need to find out who is sending them. I won’t allow you to go back there if you’re in danger. You’ll have to stay here.”

“Hold on.” I sat up straight, my temper rising. Those emails were not going to be his excuse to make me stay in New York. “Let’s not make this a bigger deal than it is, okay? So some asshole calls me a name or two. So some bitch thinks it’s funny to write whore on a napkin at the bar. It’s happened before, it will happen again. But just like always, it will blow over. I’m not in danger in Lark Cove. It’s my home, and I am going back.”

His jaw clenched. “What. Napkin?”

Shit. I hadn’t meant to let that slip in there. “It’s nothing. Totally unrelated.”

At least, I hoped it was. There wasn’t someone in Lark Cove who could be doing all this, was there? I dismissed it immediately. I knew Lark Cove. I knew the people. This was not coming from someone local.

“Sticking your head in the sand—”

“Is not what I’m doing. If it keeps up, I’ll talk to the sheriff. Okay? But I’m sure they’ll stop and I don’t want to fight. Just let it go.” I stood off the porch swing, not wanting to deal with an overprotective Logan. “I’m going to go get ready for dinner.” But before I could retreat inside, he grabbed my hand.

“If anything ever happened to you or Charlie, I’d be destroyed.”

My anger evaporated. I stepped between his legs and put my hands on his face. “It’s just been one note from someone immature enough to think a nasty napkin was funny and a couple of mean emails to the bar’s account. I’m sure it’s just a guy I kicked out or something, and this is his way of getting revenge. Logan, nothing is going to happen to us.”

He covered one of my hands with his, turning it to kiss my palm. “You don’t have any idea what you mean to me, do you?”

Maybe I don’t.

But I knew how much I loved him. It was enough to know that if we forced this—if I laid down an ultimatum for him to move or vice versa—we’d both end up miserable.

“I better get ready.” I tried to pull my hand away, but he kept it pinned, holding my gaze for a few heartbeats, until finally letting me go.

“I’ll bring Charlie in soon,” he said.

I nodded, turning before he could see my quivering chin.

With blurry eyes, I wandered through the guesthouse until I found the bedroom where Phil had brought our luggage. Alone and safe from being overheard, I collapsed on the bed, ruining the perfectly smoothed cream quilt. I dropped my head into my hands and let my shoulders fall.

Was I making a mistake? No. Down to my bones, I knew going home was the right decision. Because unlike fairy tales, there was more to real happiness than just being with someone you loved.

Loving yourself was just as important. So was finding a place where your soul was at peace.

I let myself be sad for a few minutes, giving in to a few tears that ruined the makeup I’d applied this morning. Then I pushed off the bed and dragged my suitcase into the adjoining bathroom to get ready for dinner with Logan’s parents.

I’d just finished zipping up my dress when Logan knocked on the door. “Can I come in?”

“Sure.” I flipped the lock and opened it for him.

“I just—” He stopped short, letting his eyes rake up and down my body. Then he stepped closer, resting his hands on my hips. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thanks.” I ducked my head, having no confidence that I’d bought the right dress.

It was a simple green shift, nicer than anything I owned at home. And while I appreciated Logan’s compliment, his family might not be as quick to approve.

“You look nice too,” I said, touching a button on his shirt.

He’d pulled on black slacks and an ivory button-up. His newly polished wingtips matched his camel belt.

I hated this. Hated. I hadn’t hurt him yet, but I hated that it was coming. This handsome, charming and generous man deserved so much more than the heartache I’d leave him with come Monday.

“Where’s Charlie?” I asked, swallowing down the urge to cry again.

“I told her to get dressed, but she’ll probably need some help.”

“Okay.” I stood on my toes for a soft brush of our lips just as Charlie’s frustrated scream carried down the hallway.

I stepped past Logan, rushing to her room two doors down. “Hey. What’s the matter?”

“I don’t want to wear this dress.” She balled up the light blue dress we’d bought and threw it on the floor. “Why can’t I wear my jeans?”

“Sorry, honey.” I went to her side, picking up the dress. “We’re all going to dress up for dinner tonight.”

“Don’t you like dresses, peanut?” Logan asked, leaning against her bedroom’s doorframe.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “No.”

“Oh.” He came further into the room and sat on her bed. “I didn’t know that. Don’t girls usually like dresses?”

When she glared at him, I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Not this girl.” I took Charlie’s chin. “But you can make it through one more dinner in a dress.”

She turned her glare on me but stripped off her T-shirt.

I slipped the dress over her head after she tugged off her jeans. Then I went to her suitcase and found her ballet flats. “Put these on and then let’s comb your hair.”

Twenty minutes later, her hair was tamed under a thin headband and we were all back at the mansion.

We followed Logan down a series of hallways until we reached a parlor filled with people.

Elegant people.

Aubrey was in the back corner. Her red dress was floor-length and nearly as fancy as the one I’d worn to the gala. Next to her was an older man who I guessed was Logan’s father. He was wearing a suit jacket and tie, drinking what was probably Macallan.

“Logan, dear. You’re finally here.” A woman stood from a wingback chair in the corner, crossing the room in a teal lace dress and a champagne flute in her hand. Her brown hair was pulled back into a fancy twist, revealing strings of aqua jewels dangling from each ear. She kissed Logan on each cheek, then turned to me, her smile cooling as she looked me up and down.

What I wouldn’t give to hide behind Logan.

But I couldn’t because my daughter had already taken up that spot.

“Thea, this is my mother, Lillian.”

“Nice to meet you.” I smiled. “You have a beautiful home.”

“It is.” She nodded, then peered around Logan to get a glimpse of Charlie.

“Please come and say hello.” I touched her shoulder, but she didn’t budge. Come on, kid. Not tonight.

“She’s just shy.” Logan laughed it off and stepped to the side, forcing Charlie into the open. Then he dropped to a knee at her side. “Charlie, this is my mom, Lillian.”

Charlie’s brown eyes tipped up slightly to take in her grandmother.

“Hello, Charlotte.” Lillian didn’t spare Charlie more than a glance before looking over her shoulder to her husband as he approached.

Charlie cringed at her full name, but with Lillian backing away a few steps, I didn’t correct her.

“Hello, son.” Logan’s father held out his hand as Logan stood. “Thea. Welcome. I’m Thomas.”

“Thank you for having us.” I shook his hand as he gave me the same cautious inspection as his wife.

“This must be Charlotte?” He gave her a small smile.

“It’s Charlie,” Logan and I corrected at the same time.

“Right. Well, come on in.” Thomas gestured for us all to join him at the small bar at the back of the room.

“Hi, again.” Aubrey appeared at my side, giving me a reassuring smile, then winking at Charlie.

With the hand not holding Logan’s, Charlie actually waved back.

We followed Thomas to the back of the room where two other women were standing by the bar. One I recognized as Sofia from Logan’s family photo. She was wearing a strapless navy gown, just as formal as Aubrey’s, and much like her sister, she was beautiful. She didn’t look as much like Charlie, especially with all the makeup and her long hair dyed black, but the family resemblance was still there.

I had no clue who the other guest was, but Logan knew her. His jaw ticked and he shot Sofia an angry glare as we reached the bar.

“Sofia, what do you think you’re doing?” he snapped.

“What do you mean? I’m just standing here talking to Alice. We’re allowed to bring friends here, aren’t we?”

Alice pushed away from the bar at the mention of her name, strutting right up to Logan in a pink minidress and six-inch sequined heels. “Hey, stranger.”

The way she purred made me want to vomit. I had no idea who she was, but by the sultry gleam in her eye, she was quite familiar with Logan. Could this be the woman he’d seen briefly after Emmeline? It had to be. Clearly, Alice hadn’t gotten the message that they were over.

“Alice,” he clipped. “Meet Thea, my girlfriend. And my daughter, Charlie.” He gave Alice a tight smile before pushing past her to the bar.

“What can I get for you?” Thomas asked, taking up post behind the bar.

“She should make the drinks,” Alice snickered, returning to her place next to Sofia. “She’s the bartender.”

Ohh-kay. I’d never heard my occupation said with such condemnation.

As she and Sofia giggled like eighth graders, I looked up at Logan.

“Alice,” he warned.

“What?” She pretended to be clueless. “Isn’t she a bartender? That’s what Sofia said. I was just thinking if she knows how to make good drinks, we should let her.”

“Don’t—”

“No, it’s fine.” I cut Logan off and gave both Alice and Sofia a sugar-sweet smile. “What do you like?”

Logan tried to grab my hand, but he was too slow. I made my way around the bar and stood at Thomas’s side.

“A cosmopolitan.” Alice smirked. “You know what that is, right?”

“Of course.” I was going to make this bitch the best cosmo she’d ever had in her life.

“Thea, put that glass down.”

I shot Logan a shut-up look and went about making the cocktail. “Aubrey? Sofia? Would you like one?”

“Sure. That’s so sweet of you.” Aubrey came behind the bar, making her allegiance clear. “Dad does his best, but he’s never mastered the cosmo. Sorry, Dad.”

Thomas chuckled. “I’m better at making Logan drinks than I ever was you girls.”

It took me no time to fill three martini glasses, then pour a Macallan for Logan. As I handed him a tumbler, I smiled at his mother. “Mrs. Kendrick? More champagne?”

“No.” She raised her champagne flute to her lips, finishing the glass.

I looked down at Charlie and smiled. She knew something was wrong, but it was too big for her to comprehend. “Want a Jackson Special?”

“Yeah.” She grinned and left Logan’s side to come behind the bar.

I picked her up to sit on the edge as I made her the mocktail her Uncle Jackson had invented when she was four. It was basically a Shirley Temple but he’d splash in some orange juice and double the cherries.

“Both hands. Be extra careful not to spill.” I set her down and handed her the glass.

The cream carpets wouldn’t recover from a Jackson Special, at least not without a lot of trouble. Since I knew Lillian didn’t do the cleaning, I didn’t want to cause any hassle for their staff.

“I’ll make yours.” Logan came behind the bar, setting down his tumbler and practically knocking me out of the way.

Meanwhile, Alice and Sofia had retreated back a few feet to whisper to one another, probably about me.

“What would you like?” Logan asked.

“Vodka and soda with a twist, please.”

After all, vodka was for the particularly bad nights.