Fall's Redeeming Grace: Music City Hearts, #4

By Cynthia Gail

Single mother, Lauren Parker, is desperate to keep her new job. She just hopes that bringing in the biggest contract the Chester, Dorsey, & Tanner development firm has ever been awarded can secure her place on their payroll, even after they realize they've hired the daughter of their largest competitor. At the very least, she needs to stay there long enough to regain her father's approval and inheritance.

 

After a two-month sabbatical, Brandon Dorsey returns to find a sexy, blond real estate agent taking the lead on an expansion project that could put their firm on the map. His past taught him not to sit on the sidelines; when you see something, or someone, you want, you simply have to go for it. Life's too short to have regrets.

 

When the truth comes out about Lauren's identity and the underhanded things she pulled in the past, she fights to prove she's a different woman now. And with Brandon's help, redemption is just within reach. Until the firm's newest project is sabotaged and all fingers point in her direction.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Willow Tree Romance
• Release date: Aug 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781958355060

Book preview

One

Brandon pulled up to the curb and parked behind a black Mercedes. He was early for his meeting, but obviously not early enough. Clark Pennington was standing in the middle of the open field, speaking animatedly to a beautiful woman he assumed was the man’s assistant.

Clark waved him over as he got out of his rental. The blonde remained with her back to him. He didn’t mind—the view was spectacular. She was wearing a plain black suit; the jacket had a slight flare at the waist. The skirt came all the way to her knees but fit like a glove. He was surprised to see sensible black heels, as most women with her petite frame would be sporting a pair of five-inch platforms.

Clark shook his hand. Brandon, thank you for meeting me on such short notice. I think the location is perfect.

He barely heard the man’s words, as the blonde turned to him and held out her hand. Hi, I’m Lauren. I don’t think we’ve met yet.

No, they hadn’t. He definitely would have remembered.

He took her offered hand in his and gave a slight shake, surprised at the shiver that ran through him as her silky skin slid across his. It’s a pleasure, Lauren. He liked the way her name sounded on his tongue.

Lauren.

And those lips . . . so perfectly kissable. He would have to thank Jack for making him take the last two months off. After losing Jenny and his mother in the same week, the break had helped him clear his thoughts and reprioritize.

Brandon?

Yes, sir. He had to focus. Which meant he needed to stop looking at Lauren’s lips. Stop looking at her completely. He turned his entire body to face Clark, hoping he would repeat the question.

The zoning change? The man winked.

Yes, my partner spoke with the city council yesterday. Once you make a final decision, it’s a short, two-week notice in the local paper, then we’re free to move forward.

Any reason to worry about objections?

Not at all. The seller’s a public figure, desperate to turn the property. Not only is the price irresistible, we’ll have quick turnarounds on approvals and permits.

Clark clapped him on the shoulder. Lauren assured me the firm had everything under control. But I wanted to meet at least one of the partners in person before we signed anything permanent. I hope you’re free for an early dinner. They walked toward the waiting cars. We have reservations at five. Lauren has the address.

Thank you, sir. His brain told him he needed to spend the evening catching up on email, but his body disagreed. Dinner with a beautiful woman would be much more enjoyable. And he really needed to get to know Clark. He wasn’t just a new client. His plans to develop the Pennington franchise across the entire east coast—starting right here in Savannah Georgia—fit perfectly within the firm’s newly expanded foot print.

Clark pulled Lauren into a father-like hug and kissed her cheek. You’ll ride back to the hotel with Brandon? I have an errand to run for Margaret before I pick her up for dinner. He handed her an envelope.

Of course. We’ll see you in a couple of hours.

Brandon opened the passenger-side door and held her hand as she stepped down from the high curb. She was obviously not Clark’s assistant. He had to figure out who she was without embarrassing himself. His next guess would be his daughter, yet her clothing said otherwise. Despite his admiration for how well the suit fit her delicious curves, it wasn’t tailored, and no Pennington would be caught wearing off-the-rack fashion.

So, Lauren, when did you get into town? He backed up the rental and waited for the black Mercedes to pull out in front of him.

I flew in yesterday morning and had lunch with Margaret, Clark’s wife. I’ve known them for as long as I can remember.

He noticed her fingers fidgeting with the strap on her purse, and his curiosity tripled. Was she nervous? It had been a long time since he’d met a woman this sexy that didn’t wear it like a badge of confidence, or privilege.

Before he could ask another question, she flipped open a leather portfolio. Inside the front flap, he noticed a small pocket filled with business cards—the top border read Chester, Dorsey, & Tanner.

What the heck?

She pulled out a manila folder with his name written on the tab. I made a copy of all my notes, budget projections, time tables, and preliminary sketches. It’s already loaded into the new software, but Jack mentioned you were coming straight from vacation and might not have your laptop with you.

Software?

What was she talking about?

I guess he didn’t mention it. She took a deep breath. I promise you’ll like it. The firm’s growing so fast, I felt we needed a better way to manage all of our projects and give more visibility to each department.

Makes sense . . . He was more confused than ever now. "And you helped us figure out what we needed?"

The real estate market—especially commercial—requires detailed project management, so I made a few suggestions on software I’m familiar with. Jack made the final decision. She slid the folder back into her portfolio. I’ll hold on to this until we get back to the hotel. He caught the firm’s embossed logo on the front, just before she laid her purse on top and began twisting the strap again.

I must have been away longer than I thought. When Jack had asked him to fly in for the meeting, he’d given him the basic details. Plans were preliminary. His job was to meet and greet. He hadn’t mentioned a new associate or computer program.

Jack had some explaining to do.

Lauren couldn’t stop fidgeting. She thought her heart might pound right out of her chest. Pennington was the break she’d been looking for. Praying for. The deal that would make it impossible for the firm to withdraw her contract . . . even after Nick and Brandon realized what Jack had done in their absence.

A twinge of guilt rolled through her stomach, knowing what lay ahead. Nick and Beth would be back from their belated honeymoon in another week. By the look on Brandon’s face, he would be on the phone and know who she really was before their five o’clock dinner.

She hadn’t wanted to apply for their commercial real estate opening. But she’d had no choice. A single mom, with bills to pay, had to take opportunities as they came. And landing a job with the most prestigious development firm in the country would satisfy her father’s final requirement for reinstating her inheritance.

Lauren turned her attention to Brandon as they walked through the automated front doors of their hotel. Join me for a drink to celebrate? Maybe she could postpone the inevitable until after dinner. Enjoy the moment for a few hours?

That’s a little premature, don’t you think? Plus, I have a phone call to make.

Not at all. She lifted the portfolio holding Clark’s signature. "I have in my hands the largest contract Chester, Dorsey, and Tanner have ever been awarded." Not waiting for his response, she entered the hotel lounge and found two empty chairs at the counter.

The bartender wasted no time. What can I get for the most beautiful woman in the room?

Cosmopolitan, please. A blush crept up her cheeks. It had been a long time since someone called her beautiful. A long time since she’d felt even pretty. Being pregnant, then a single mom all alone would give any girl a complex. Even worse, once she’d given birth to Alexa, she’d worked hard to lose the extra weight, only to find that her father had thrown out her entire designer wardrobe. She’d been left with the few things she’d originally taken with her and resorted to buying clothes from the local department store. No matter how fit she was now, low-budget heels and business suits didn’t give her the same shield of confidence her Louis Vuitton and Bloomingdale’s wardrobe used to.

A penny for your thoughts. Brandon touched her arm, sending a shockwave through her entire body. She looked into his walnut-brown eyes and found true concern . . . and something else that made her stomach clench.

Can I get you something, sir?

Blanton’s, on the rocks.

Lauren turned to her drink, thankful for the bartender’s interruption. She had no idea what had just happened. Her body had swayed in Brandon’s direction as if it had a mind of its own. She’d have to be blind not to be attracted to him. He was several inches taller than her, even with her heels. Thick black hair, just long enough to run her fingers through. He’d taken off his jacket, and she stifled a gasp at the sight of the toned muscles through the custom dress shirt.

He grinned, and the corner of his eyes held a glint of humor. So, we’re celebrating?

Definitely! And you’re buying. She pulled out the envelope and handed it to him. Five years. Every new site.

She took a slow sip of cranberry coolness and licked the sugary edge of the glass. She assumed he would want to read the terms for himself, but when she turned back, he was watching her. His eyes were fixed on her mouth. She could barely breathe as she let her gaze fall to his lips and imagined what they might feel like against hers.

Here you go, sir. The bartender once again interrupted, and Lauren turned in her seat, determined to remove all thoughts of Brandon’s lips from her mind. Would you like to start a tab?

Brandon pulled out two twenties and laid them on the counter. This should cover it.

Thank you, sir. Have a good evening, miss.

Lauren glanced at the row of TVs across the top of the bar. She suddenly wished she knew more about baseball. The playoffs were on, and she had no idea which teams were playing. She and Brandon needed meaningless small talk . . . something to cool the air between them for the next thirty minutes until they left for the restaurant.

She needed to clear her head and remind herself that Brandon was off limits.

She had one goal.

One priority.

She couldn’t lose focus.

Once he realized who she was, he would hate her anyway.

Two

Longing tightened in Lauren’s chest as Brandon pulled off the Island Expressway and drove past a row of cottages—the term the locals used for their ten-thousand-square-foot estates lining the shore. The Blue Fin was her all-time favorite restaurant, but she wasn’t prepared for the memories suddenly flooding her.

The valet opened her door, and she stepped onto the sidewalk just as Clark and Margaret arrived. The moment they walked into the restaurant lobby they were greeted and ushered to a table overlooking the water.

The best view in the house. Margaret took her hand and squeezed. Just like old times.

Old times . . . She hadn’t visited the island in almost three years. I sure miss this place. She sighed and took her seat across from Brandon.

The waitress handed each of them a menu, then recited the chef’s specials for the evening. Clark ordered a bottle of wine, but she wasn’t sure if she felt like drinking. She’d barely sipped on the Cosmopolitan at the hotel, and it hadn’t settled well. Maybe a glass of water with lemon would ease her stomach.

Lauren laid down her menu just as Brandon did, and their eyes caught.

"Tell me about the old times," he said.

We . . . that is, my family . . . has a summer home here. I was barely in grade school when my father bought the land and built a house on the water farther down shore.

She could still remember that year. Her father had brought the whole family with him to the island, where they’d rented a suite of rooms on the beach. He’d spent long days with architects and developers, designing every last detail from the foundation to the placement of each plant in the backyard landscape. Her mother had been so happy then, given free reign over the furnishings and decorations. Lauren had felt like a princess in a palace.

We spent most of our summers here when I was young.

So, that’s how you know Mr. and Mrs. Pennington?

Please, call me Clark.

The wine steward approached their table, and a comforting silence filled the air as they all watched him open a bottle of Chateau Margaux 2010. He poured an ounce into Clark’s glass, then handed him the cork. He swirled the beautiful Bordeaux, inhaling deeply before taking a long sip.

You remembered . . . Her heart warmed, realizing it wasn’t the house or the beach she’d missed so much, but the summers her family had spent together and the pseudo-parents Clark and Margaret had turned into over the years. She touched the corner of her eye, not wanting a silly tear to ruin the moment.

Clark nodded to the steward, who then poured each of them a glass. Of course, I remembered your favorite. Tonight is a celebration. Margaret and I want you to know how very proud we are of the woman you’ve become. He turned his attention to Brandon. You obviously see it, too. Our Lauren will make you a fortune if you give her the chance.

Brandon stared at her—a myriad of questions in his single raised brow.

Heat crept up her neck.

She tried to laugh off the compliment, but her chuckle came out like a dry croak. That may be an exaggeration. She looked down at her wine. Clark’s faith in her was humbling. What would he think if he knew the truth—knew the horrible things she’d done in the past couple of years? How she’d even manipulated her way into this job out of shear desperation.

When she looked up again, he was shaking his head. No, it’s not. Your father may not realize it yet, but I believe you’ll surpass even his accomplishments. I can still remember how you used to follow him around, listening to his every word as we discussed the island and tourism, construction and investments. You might have been young, but I could see your mind racing, soaking it all in. And look at you now.

She’d worshiped her father back then. He was a giant of success she’d measured everyone else by.

You’re brilliant, Clark continued. And if he’s smart, he’ll wake up and realize it!

She wasn’t sure he ever would. She’d tried for years to gain his approval. Finished graduate school with honors, majoring in business and real estate law, assuming if she could prove herself worthy, he’d allow her to work for his corporation. That he’d eventually accept her as a stand-in for the son he’d always wanted.

In the meantime, I consider us fortunate to have you heading our team. And I’d like to give a toast. He raised his glass. To Lauren and Brandon. The two of you are going to lead the Pennington Empire in taking over the eastern coast.

Margaret giggled. "We have an empire?"

Clark let out a billowing laugh. Yes, we do, dear. And Lauren is our secret weapon. He winked at Lauren and kissed his wife on the cheek.

Thank you, Lauren said. I promise we won’t let you down.

The four clinked their glasses and took a drink of the magnificent wine. She settled back in her chair and breathed deep, enjoying the bold flavor of currant, citrus, and berries.

She owed Clark more than he’d ever know. By the time she’d entered middle school, her father had