Revel (Second Chance Romance #1)(14)

As soon as she’d mentioned his mother, he’d frozen. The people closest to him knew that the topic of Anna DeGraff was off limits. He’d cut people out of his life that reminded him too much of her, save for his father. Whether they liked it or not, Henry and Declan were stuck with one another, and their pain at her absence was identically acute.

It's why he’d avoided Charleston for so long. It wasn’t only because everything about this city reminded him of Charlotte and what he’d lost in letting her go. But this city was his mother. From the marshes, to King Street, to the Battery, to Angel Oak, to the bells chiming at St. Michael’s, all of it was her. She was a ghost Declan had never been able to deal with.

So he’d fled. Transferred out of the College of Charleston and moved clear across the country. Finished up at Stanford. Formed a start-up on his own and made billions of dollars when he sold it.

But none of it made him forget. At the end of the day, it was just a distraction.

********

Once Bree was gone, he took in his surroundings. He’d brought some furniture with him from Palo Alto, but not much. He’d need to go out to Mount Pleasant tomorrow and see about hiring an interior designer to spruce up the place. It wasn’t something he was interested in doing. He would rather just throw money at the problem and have it fixed.

He’d talked to his father’s new nurse earlier that morning. Henry DeGraff was still pissed off to be dying and Declan couldn’t blame him. It was a shitty way to go. He’d promised the nurse he’d be over later today to visit; possibly have a conversation with his father that didn’t end in an argument.

But, for now, he needed some fresh air and sunshine. The sound of the Atlantic beckoned him to come out and rest a while. Declan thought jumping in and having a swim might be a good way to start the day.

He stepped out onto the back porch to take in his surroundings. He could see a woman was already laying out on the sand. She had on a black bikini and was flipping through a magazine as she lounged on a beach towel.

Not a bad view, he thought. Not a bad view at all.





Ten Years Earlier…


Charlotte’s least favorite shift of all the shifts she had to work at Dixie Garden was definitely Sunday brunch.

Charleston’s finest came out in their Lily Pulitzer dresses, Tory Burch flats, and Chanel handbags. The women gossiped over pimento cheese sandwiches and she-crab soup that they never touched, all while demanding constant refills of water and sweet tea.

And none of them tipped for shit.

Charlotte dreaded it every week. And on this particular Sunday, she was reminded of why.

Saylor Embers and her coven of southern bitches were seated at one of her tables. As soon as they saw she was their server, the hell began.

“Oh, well, look who it is!” Saylor cooed. “It’s little Miss Ho Bag. How’s it going? Don’t you look adorable in that little apron? It really hides your flaws well!” She smiled and the girls around her chortled at her audacity.

Charlotte ignored the insult, “Good morning. What can I get y’all to drink?”

“Water. Unlike some, we don’t drink our calories. And we prefer it bottled,” Saylor said. “Who knows what you’d do to it.”

“Got it,” Charlotte said. “I’ll bring you bottled water. Did you want an appetizer?”

Saylor rolled her eyes, “No. But I wouldn’t mind a different waitress. I prefer not be served by someone who’s f*cking my boyfriend.”

Charlotte’s hands started to shake, “I’m not sleeping with him. And I’m completely capable of serving you whatever you need.”

“Are you ‘capable’? How lovely. Couldn’t a trained monkey serve us sandwiches? I mean, seriously. What are you even doing here? You realize everyone thinks you’re a joke, right? And a whore? Because when you receive something like rent in exchange for sexual favors, that’s what you become. A nasty prostitute. I don’t want you touching my food. Can I see your manager? Maybe they’re not aware what kind of girl they hired. There must be plenty of other trailer trash bitches vying for a spot at this place.”

Charlotte couldn’t take it anymore. She dropped the notepad she took orders on and quickly ran from the dining area and back to the break room. She couldn’t let them see her cry.

She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of that.

********

That night she’d thought long and hard about what she was trying to prove by staying in a town that seemed to want nothing to do with her.

Charlotte missed her little sister. She missed her friends; hell, she missed having friends. The only friend she had here in Charleston was Declan.

She even missed her father. And as much as it pained her to come crawling back, she wondered if maybe it was better that way. Charleston just didn’t seem to love her the way she loved it.

That night she’d told Declan how she felt.

“So you’re thinking of moving back home?” Declan asked. “Why?”

“It would be too hard for you to understand,” Charlotte said, trying her best not to cry in front of him. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

Declan sighed, “You could at least try me. It’s kind of presumptive of you to assume I wouldn’t know what it’s like to feel a certain way.”