The Will to Love

By Lois Edmonds

Brea’s world is shattered when her father dies suddenly, but there is much more going on than meets the eye. Why did he leave a Will that takes away her inheritance, what has this to do with her treacherous brother, and why has Kyle, her first love who deserted her ten years ago appeared on the scene. She is not only in danger of losing her inheritance, but also of losing her heart all over again. Can Kyle be trusted or is he part of it all?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lois Edmonds
• Release date: Feb 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301393114

Lois Edmonds

The author has two loves:writing and painting pet portraits. After many years in the UK as a professional charity fundraiser and marketer, Lois now lives in Brisbane Australia, where she divides her time between writing, painting, and charity work.

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The Will to Love

Lois Edmonds

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Lois Edmonds

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table of Contents

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 One

The short walk from the boardroom of Andersen and Clarke to her cubicle was the longest of Brea's life. By the time she reached her small island of office space her legs were trembling so much she had to sit and clamp her knees together. Her stomach was churning with a sickening mix of tremendous excitement, heightened expectations and downright fear.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. Gradually the familiar hum of the open plan office pervaded her senses and it settled her. Her work colleagues were going about their daily routines, completely unaware of her dramatically changed situation.

Including Sam. Her fiancé was working just a few cubicles away in blissful ignorance that she had just been handed the chance of a lifetime. Unfortunately, this same chance was the one project that he had set his heart on getting. He had been striving for months to persuade the partners of the building management company they both worked for, to assign him the management of the Guildhall rejuvenation project. This was where the fear in her stemmed from – what would Sam say and do, when he learned his fiancé had stolen it out from under his very nose?

Not that she had done it deliberately. Brea had always been at the top of her game; after graduating with Honours in her Property Management Degree her particular skills in listed building refurbishment were snapped up by Andersen and Clarke as a 23 year old straight from London South Bank University. They had been grooming her for this from the outset and six years down the line, they had deemed her ready for her first big project. It was a cruel twist of fate that it happened to be the one that Sam wanted above all else.

The Guildhall was a dream project. Empty and crumbling for almost thirty years, the plan was to give it a new lease of life as small offices for start-up companies. The challenge was to take this listed gem and renovate it sensitively - which happened to be a particular passion of Brea's. She felt a rush of pure exhilaration as she thought about the months ahead, then a stab of dread at the thought of breaking the news to Sam.

Her relationship with Sam had happened despite her reservations about work romances. He had already been at Andersen and Clarke for two years when she arrived as the fresh new intern. In a sea of strangers, his friendly manner, twinkling eyes and easy smile were a welcome sight. He had taken it upon himself to introduce her to life in the office, and before too long, to life outside the office as well. Her early concerns about dating a co-worker faded as the months went by. Their particular strengths took them in different directions and they never crossed paths on projects. It wasn't until the early murmurs that the Guildhall building was up for grabs, that Sam had shown any sign of interest in old buildings. Brea hadn't given it a thought, as she hadn't expected to be in the running for it herself.

She sighed. She needed to get the awful task of telling him out of the way as soon as possible. She sent him an email inviting him to lunch, to which he replied quickly. Nothing unusual in that – if they were both in the office, lunching together was usual. Especially as they were planning to move in together in a few weeks and looking for a suitable apartment was taking up their spare time.

Brea scanned his face as they took their seats in the bistro a few blocks from the office. He seemed happy and relaxed, which meant the office drums hadn't alerted him to anything as yet. She almost wished they had – telling him would've been so much easier then, than breaking the news cold.

His first words were problematic. So, how was your morning?

Umm… interesting, actually.She fiddled with the napkin, making a meal of placing it in her lap. Sam – I'm sorry, but you didn't get the Guildhall project.

His quick frown was followed by a look of suspicion. Just how do you know that?

Her heart hammered in her chest. Because… they have given it to me.

He sat stock still for a few moments. Brea watched helplessly as the colour drained from his face and his eyes turned hard with fury. The silence between them was excruciating. When he finally spoke, his quiet words were shaking with anger. Well, well… who would've thought you were such a snake, eh? Little Miss Butter Wouldn't Melt has done the dirty. His smile was more of a grimace. I guess I should've known you would have more 'persuasive' powers over the old guys than I ever could.

Brea struggled to retain her composure. Even making allowances for his disappointment and anger, his words were hurtful. Sam, that's not fair. I never tried to influence their decision. No one is more surprised than I am that they've given it to me. I'm really sorry –

His bark was disparaging. Hah! You're not sorry. You are a scheming little cow. All these months, you've watched me work my butt off to get this chance. His tone turned petulant. I bet you were laughing behind my back all the while.

She reached out a hand to placate him, but he shook it off. She barely held back the tears that threatened to spill. Please Sam… I would never do that. I love you –

Love? That's a joke. You don't know the meaning of the word. I beginning to think I don't know you at all. He placed his napkin on the table with deliberate slowness. Well, good luck. I hope you are happy. I think marrying you is quite out of the question now, don't you? Considering.

After he left, Brea sat there in total numbness. How could one of the best days of her life turn to shit with such lightning speed? Gain a dream project, lose a dream fiancé. Yet deep down, as soon as she had learned of her success, she had known this was on the cards. Sam was a good-time guy. He was so pleasant and great to be around when things went his way. She had seen the other side of him a few times over the years when office personalities or politics had gotten in his way. In an instant he could turn quite nasty lash out, say hurtful things - but it would blow over and he would be nice as pie in a flash.

Somehow though, she didn't thing that would be the case this time. His ego was massively bruised. If anyone else had taken the Guildhall project from him, he would have gotten over it eventually. But the fact that it was Brea, his junior as well as his fiancé - she suspected that combination would be a bridge too far. His pride would not allow her to work day on day on a project he coveted – and that everyone knew he had wanted.

Deep down, she knew she would not give up this chance for anything – even Sam.

The numbness receded, replaced by an overpowering feeling of sadness. Yes, she was desperately sad at losing Sam -but the realisation that her love for him wasn't strong enough for her to contemplate giving up the project for him was worse – and a shock. She did not consider herself overly ambitious, but she really wanted this project – more than anything else in the world. More than she loved Sam, she admitted to herself. It was a bittersweet pill to swallow.

She walked slowly back to the office, not entirely sure what reception she would get from her colleagues. She expected Sam to have spread the word by now, and she was not hopeful that he had been nice about it. But to her surprise, no-one seemed to have heard the news, and Sam had not returned to the office before her. He must still be really upset, she realised with a guilty start.

When the Project Plan was listed on the noticeboard, the flood of congratulations was gratifying. Her co-workers all seemed to be pleased for her and no one else hinted that they thought she had won the day through underhand means. They knew how hard she worked, she didn't partake in office politics, and she always had time to help if anyone needed it. Her generosity of spirit in a field of great rivalry was noted and appreciated by her colleagues, young and old.

Sam's absence during the afternoon continued to dampen Brea's delight in her elevation. His lack of appearance was eventually noticed by Jane, in the next cubicle to Brea.

She poked her nose around the partition halfway through the afternoon. Have you given Sam the great news?

Brea took a moment before replying. She didn't want the office tom-toms beating out about their lunchtime spat and Jane was always on the lookout for gossip. She kept her reply casual. Sure, I mentioned it to him at lunchtime.

Where is he anyway?

Probably drowning his sorrows in the nearest bar, thought Brea, but she wasn't about to voice that opinion. Out on a call, I think.

No doubt he will take you out tonight to celebrate.

Probably. No way in hell was more like it. Brea picked up her phone and made a call, to break the conversation. She wasn't in the mood for small talk and if anyone could spot the cracks, it would be Jane.

Near the end of the day she heard on the grapevine that Sam had phoned in sick after lunch, and taken himself home. Brea fended off well-meaning questions from their co-workers, and took the opportunity to leave early herself with the excuse of calling in to see how he was. She needed to be alone to make some sense of this roller coaster of a day.

However, her conscience got the better of her, and she found herself making a detour to call in and see how Sam was faring. Perhaps he had gotten over the shock by now, and was ready to be reasonable about the whole thing. Maybe even make up…

She rang the doorbell of his fashionable Mews apartment. It was sometime before the door opened, and when it did she wished for the entire world that she had not come.

A very drunk Sam, with a bottle of Scotch in one hand and a partly clad girl in the other, swayed in the doorway and eyed her hazily. Well… if it isn't Mata Hari herself. Come to join the party?

Brea fought down the urge to slap him. I thought we might talk -

Nothing to talk about! Of course, if you've come to apologise, then let's hear it.

Brea tried to ignore the girl draped on his shoulder, fingering a tendril of hair over his ear. I've nothing to apologise for. If you will just listen –

No time to listen - it's time for action… To demonstrate, he bent down and nuzzled the neck of the girl, who giggled in response. Want to join us? He leered at Brea.

Anger and disappointment washed over her. This was Sam's answer to everything. A show of bravado to prove he was still top dog and then ask for forgiveness tomorrow. Well, that wasn't going to happen. Not this time. If he really loved her, he would have been happy for her great opportunity even if he was disappointed for himself. It seemed they were both lacking somewhat in the love department. Their relationship had fallen at the first hurdle, but better now than a few months or even years down the line, when much more would have been at stake.

Brea blinked away tears. Goodbye Sam.

She blundered her way down the steps into the street. Sam sobered for a moment and watched her receding figure with a lost look. He contemplated for a moment about running after her, but he was too drunk and angry to belittle himself like that. She has always been more hard working, more talented than he was. He wanted a fun-loving, compliant wife, not a competitive, ambitious harridan who would make his life a misery and show him up at every opportunity.

He thought of his father, married several times to a string of look-alike blondes that would dote on him for adoringly for a while until the riches ceased to be a novelty. He barely remembered his mother, who by all accounts was a lot tougher and saw the family through hard times until the money started to flow in. He could only just recall the bitter wrangles over his father's excesses, the