PART 2: The Wedding Planner Learned Why Her Client’s Luxury Venue Suddenly Disappeared
Erin sounded as if she were walking quickly while talking because I could hear doors opening and closing behind her.
“They’re refunding everything,” she said. “Which is obviously better than losing the deposits, but Natalie, I have two hundred and twelve guests arriving in five days. Some are already flying in from Chicago and New York.”
“Did Jonathan explain the corporate-use clause?”
“Yes. He was professional, but I have never had something like this happen this close to a wedding.”
Papers shuffled on her end.
“I’ve already called three venues. One is booked. Another can only hold a hundred and twenty people. The third wants us to move the ceremony to Monday.”
I felt sorry for her.
She hadn’t caused any of this.
She had simply become the person standing between my family and the consequences of their decision.
“I’m sorry you’re dealing with it.”
There was a pause.
“You sound strangely unsurprised.”
“I’m familiar with the company.”
“How familiar?”
Before I answered, someone spoke to Erin in the background.
She covered the phone, responded quickly, then returned sounding even more stressed.
“Sorry. That was Camille. Lucas hasn’t told her your invitation was canceled yet, so please don’t mention that if she calls you.”
That detail hurt more than I expected.
Apparently, Lucas had been willing to remove me from his wedding but hadn’t been willing to tell his future wife that he had done it.
“Understood.”
Erin hesitated.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“Do you know someone at Seabrook?”
“Yes.”
“Someone senior?”
“Yes.”
“Someone senior enough to know why the owner suddenly moved a corporate event into the Grand?”
I turned my chair toward my desk.
“Erin, do you remember asking whether I knew anyone who worked for the chain?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t work for Seabrook.”
“Oh.”
“I own it.”
Silence.
Nothing came through the phone except faint room noise.
I waited.
Finally, Erin whispered, “I’m sorry. I think I misunderstood.”
“You didn’t.”
“You own Seabrook Grand?”
“I own the Seabrook Collection. Seven resorts, two marina properties, and the management company attached to them.”
Her silence lasted so long that I checked the screen to make sure the call hadn’t disconnected.
Then she said, “You’re Natalie Vega from Alder Crest.”
“Yes.”
“The Alder Crest?”
“There’s only one I know of.”
Erin swore softly, then apologized.
“I’m sorry. I’ve read about your company. I just never connected the name because your brother described you as…”
She stopped.
“As what?”
“I shouldn’t repeat it.”
“I’ve had an unusual afternoon. Go ahead.”
She took a breath.
“He said you were still figuring things out. Your mother told Camille you had spent years chasing unrealistic business ideas and that the family had finally stopped enabling you.”
I stared at my desk.
I had always known my family underestimated me.
Hearing that they had been telling strangers a fictional version of my life was different.
“What exactly did Lucas tell you about me?”
“Not much. Only that you weren’t close and that there had been some family tension.”
“Was removing me his decision?”
“Your parents made the call, but they said Lucas agreed.”
There it was.
Not misunderstanding.
Not confusion.
Agreement.
Erin continued carefully.
“Does the venue cancellation have anything to do with what happened?”
I could have lied.
I didn’t.
“The corporate summit is real, and the contract allows us to reclaim the facility. Management had alternatives before today. I chose not to preserve the wedding booking after being told I was no longer family.”
Erin breathed out slowly.
“That’s going to become obvious when they find out who you are.”
“I know.”
“Do you want me to tell them?”
“No.”
I paused.
“I’m not asking you to hide anything, but I’m not asking you to explain it either.”
“All right.”
“I hope you find somewhere beautiful for them.”
Erin sounded surprised.
“You really aren’t trying to prevent the wedding?”
“No. I’m not trying to prevent Lucas from getting married.”
“But you’re not going to fix this for him.”
“No.”
A knock came at my office door.
Maya stepped inside holding a tablet.
I shook my head to indicate that I didn’t need anything.
Erin said, “I have to call your brother back.”
“Do whatever you believe is professionally appropriate.”
“I will.”
We ended the call at 2:52.
At 3:06, my mother called.
I watched her name appear on my screen until voicemail picked up.
At 3:08, my father called.
At 3:09, Lucas called twice.
At 3:13, my mother called again.
I turned the phone face down.
Maya raised an eyebrow.
“Family?”
“Apparently I’m family again.”
She didn’t laugh.
That was one of the reasons she had remained my assistant for six years.
At 3:25, Daniel walked into my office without knocking.
He dropped into the chair opposite me.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“That answer has never convinced me.”
I closed the event contract.
“I think I’m embarrassed.”
“Because of them?”
“Because I let it matter for so long.”
Daniel leaned back.
“Wanting your family to know you isn’t embarrassing.”
I looked toward the window.
“I spent years reducing myself around them. I stopped mentioning deals. I drove the old Subaru whenever I visited because my mother once called my first Mercedes showy. I rented a small apartment near them even after I bought the penthouse because I didn’t want Dad accusing me of trying to impress anyone.”
Daniel stared at me.
“They think you still live there?”
“I sold that apartment two years ago.”
He rubbed his face.
“That’s not privacy, Natalie.”
I looked at him.
“That’s camouflage.”
The word stayed with me.
Maybe that was exactly what I had been doing.
At 4:01, Lucas sent a message.
CALL ME. NOW.
At 4:07:
THIS ISN’T FUNNY.
At 4:15:
ERIN SAYS YOU KNOW THE OWNER. FIX THIS.
I stared at that one.
Not Are you okay?
Not Did Mom really say you weren’t family?
Not I’m sorry.
Fix this.
At 4:22, another message arrived.
CAMILLE IS CRYING. IF YOU HAVE ANY CONNECTION AT ALL, USE IT.
I put the phone down.
At 5:46, Erin texted me.
I’m sorry. He found out.
Three dots appeared, disappeared, then returned.
Jonathan confirmed your ownership when Lucas called the resort directly.
Before I could respond, my phone began ringing.
Lucas.
This time, I answered.
“Natalie.”
His voice sounded nothing like it had four months earlier when he told me I made family gatherings uncomfortable.
The arrogance was gone.
In its place was something sharp and breathless.
“Tell me this isn’t true.”
“What part?”
“The resort. The company. All of it.”
I looked through the glass wall of my office.
“It’s true.”
“You own Seabrook?”
“Yes.”
“Since when?”
“Four years.”
“Four years?”
“Yes.”
“We had Mom’s sixtieth birthday at Seabrook Palms.”
“I remember.”
“Camille’s bridal shower was at Seabrook Marina.”
“I know.”
“You own those too?”
“Yes.”
He stopped speaking.
I could hear his breathing.
Then he asked, “Why the hell didn’t you tell us?”
I almost answered.
Instead, I looked at the clock.
5:58 p.m.
Two minutes before six.
My brother finally wanted to know about my life.
The question was whether he wanted to know me—or simply wanted his ballroom back.
END PART 2
