Chapter 1 - THE KISS THAT DESTROYED MY WEDDING
The hardest thing I ever did was watch my fiancé walk toward an airport gate with my best friend and pretend I hadn't seen them kissing.
Derek Lawson had one hand around Clara Whitfield's waist.
She was laughing at something he whispered into her ear, her diamond earrings catching the fluorescent lights.
I recognized those earrings.
I had given them to her on her twenty-fifth birthday.
Now she was wearing them while kissing the man I was supposed to marry in twelve days.
Beside me, my older brother Nolan quietly picked up the welcome sign I had dropped.
“Emily, look at me.”
I couldn't.
My eyes were fixed on Derek.
“He told me he was going to Seattle.”
“I know.”
“And Clara said her mother was dying.”
Nolan's expression hardened.
“I know that too.”
Something in his voice finally made me look at him.
“What do you mean?”
“Not here.”
He guided me toward a quieter part of the terminal, where I could still see the departure gate through the glass.
Derek leaned down and kissed Clara again.
I felt as though someone were slowly pulling my heart apart.
For six years, I had loved that man.
We had built a business together.
Bought a house together.
Planned a wedding with two hundred guests.
And Clara had been beside me through all of it.
She helped me choose my wedding dress.
She listened when I worried about becoming a wife and a business owner at the same time.
Three nights earlier, she had cried while telling me how lucky I was to have Derek.
Now I understood why she had been crying.
“Why can't I confront them?” I whispered.
“Because they're going to deny everything they can.”
Nolan glanced at his watch.
“And because I need to know how far they've gone.”
I turned toward him.
“You knew?”
“I suspected something was wrong with Derek's business dealings. I didn't know about Clara until this afternoon.”
“What business dealings?”
He hesitated.
That frightened me.
Nolan had returned from Singapore after two years overseeing his international investment group.
He had promised to help with the final wedding preparations.
Instead, he seemed to have arrived carrying a secret.
“Emily, when was the last time you reviewed Bellwether Hospitality's bank statements?”
My stomach tightened.
Bellwether was the boutique hotel company Derek and I had built from a single restored property outside Chicago.
I was its original founder.
Derek became CEO when we expanded.
For the past year, he had insisted that I focus on brand development and wedding preparations while he handled the finances.
“I see the monthly reports.”
“That's not what I asked.”
“Derek handles the accounts.”
Nolan closed his eyes briefly.
Then he reached into his jacket and removed his phone.
A document appeared on the screen.
An invoice.
$186,000.
Consulting services.
Recipient: Whitfield Strategic Solutions.
Clara Whitfield.
I stared at it.
“Why is Bellwether paying Clara?”
“That's one of the things we're going to find out.”
He scrolled.
Another invoice.
Then another.
Then a fourth.
The total exceeded $1.4 million.
I could barely breathe.
Clara had never worked for Bellwether.
At least, that was what I believed.
Nolan put away the phone.
“Send Derek a message.”
“What?”
“Wish him luck at his seminar.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know whether he still thinks you're completely unaware.”
With trembling fingers, I typed:
Hope the Seattle seminar goes well. I love you.
A minute later, Derek replied.
Love you too, beautiful. Can't wait to marry you.
Then another message arrived.
Don't forget to sign the Bellwether restructuring papers tomorrow. I need them before Monday.
I showed Nolan.
His expression changed completely.
“What papers?”
“Something about preparing the company for a new investor.”
He took a slow breath.
“Don't sign anything.”
I looked toward the gate.
Derek and Clara were boarding.
My best friend rested her head against my fiancé's shoulder as if she had every right to be there.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I watched them disappear.
Then Nolan turned his phone toward me one final time.
He had opened the corporate registration records for Whitfield Strategic Solutions.
Clara was listed as president.
But she wasn't the only owner.
The other owner held fifty percent.
Derek Lawson.
My fiancé wasn't merely having an affair with my best friend.
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He had secretly established a company with her.
And Bellwether Hospitality had been sending them money for almost a year.
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