Jilted: Promise Harbor, Book 1 (2 page)

“Oh good! It will be so great to see you. You haven’t been home for so long.”

Devon’s eyes widened. Had she agreed to attend the wedding? No, she had not. But somehow Allie thought she was coming, and if she backed out now, Allie would think she was lying about being over Josh and being happy for them.

Which she totally was.

She inhaled a deep breath. “I’ll see if I can juggle things at work so that I can come.”

“Oh, that would be
so
great.”

When the call ended, Devon slumped on her couch in her twentieth-story apartment overlooking downtown Boston, the city now spread like multicolored jewels below her—citrine, topaz and sparkling diamonds. In the distance the spires of the Zakim Bridge stretched into the night sky.

She couldn’t do it. She’d find some excuse. Something at work would come up and she just wouldn’t be able to get away.

Then she thought of Allie saying how they knew it would be hard for her, and once again she straightened. She did not want them feeling sorry for her. She had a great life. A successful career. A beautiful home. A busy social life. So she had no husband or fiancé or boyfriend even. In fact it had been a few months since she’d even had a date, but that was just because she was so busy and worked such long hours. That was no reason for them to feel sorry for her.

It was true she hadn’t been home for a while. The thought of seeing her dad made her stomach tense a little, and truthfully she’d rather eat her Jimmy Choo pumps than go back to Promise Harbor and be reminded of all the reasons she’d wanted to leave.

The thought of seeing Josh one more time, one last time before he married someone else, pulled at something inside her…but god, could she really bear to see him marry someone else? To marry Allie?

Well, she had a month to figure out some way to get out of it.

The next afternoon, her boss called her in to his office near the end of the day. “I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Mel began, a funereal expression on his face. “This isn’t going to be easy.”

She frowned. What was the problem? Another issue with the Halbert account?

“I’m very sorry to have to tell you this.”

She tamped down her impatience and tried to smile encouragingly at him. Her head ached, as it usually did these days, and she resisted the urge to massage her aching neck muscles.

“You know the challenges we’ve been facing recently,” he continued. “The investment banking industry has just gone through one of the toughest period in its history.”

She nodded slowly.

“Unfortunately in an economic downturn, when a company is fighting to stay alive, there are few good choices. We’ve had to make some difficult decisions.”

Unease began to squirm inside her.
Would you get to the point…

“To remain competitive, we’re going to have to restructure our organization.”

She narrowed her eyes a little at him, her mind working to figure out what he was saying. Somehow she had a feeling this “restructuring” wasn’t going to be about a promotion.

“What I’m saying is, we’re going to have to reduce the size of our workforce.”

“Oh.” Oh no. Layoffs were never a good thing.

“I’m sorry, Devon.”

Good god, were those tears in his eyes? Her insides tightened and her fingers curled around the armrests of the chair she sat in. He wasn’t talking about…her? Was he?

“This decision is no reflection upon you as a person or upon your individual contributions to the firm.”

“Me?” Her voice came out dry and rough. She coughed.

“I know that this news comes as a shock to you and that this decision will be difficult to fully understand.”

She shook her head. “Um…”

“We’ll give you time to gather your belongings and clear out your desk. Or if you prefer, you can leave right now and we’ll pack your things up and have them delivered to your home.”

Holy snapping duck shit!
She shook her head again, still trying to comprehend what was happening. “You’re
firing
me?”

“No! Laying you off. It’s an economic decision, Devon. As I said, it’s no reflection on your work. But you have the least seniority.”

“Am I the only one being laid off?”

“No.” Once again she thought he was about to cry. “Ten people from this department are losing their jobs.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“I’m sure this news is quite upsetting to you. Is there anyone that you would like to call? Can I call someone for you?”

She blinked rapidly at the stinging in the corners of her eyes. Weirdly, the only name that came to mind at that moment was Josh. Not her mom or her dad or a best friend. Steady, dependable, loyal Josh. At that moment, all she could think was how much she wanted his strong arms around her, his broad chest to press her face against.

But that was never going to happen again.

It seemed like it took a couple of hours for her to get control of her emotions enough to speak, but it was probably only a moment. Never let them see you sweat was her motto. She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. “No,” she said. “I’m fine.” She swallowed, her throat still tight and aching. “I’d like to thank you for the opportunity to work here. I’ve enjoyed it very much.” She’d poured her heart and soul and entire frickin’ life into this job. “I’ve learned so much, and I know that will serve me well wherever I end up.”

Relief flashed on Mel’s round face. He probably expected her to cry or have a tantrum. Or, when she saw the security guard near the door of his office as she left, maybe they’d even expected worse than that. Meep. They should know she was the least likely person to throw a tantrum…or worse.

She packed up her belonging with hands that shook just a little, her insides knotted into a hard ball. It felt unreal, like this couldn’t really be happening to her. But it was.

The next morning when she didn’t have any reason to get up, it was tempting to just lie in bed and give in to another crying jag. But Jeebus, she couldn’t let this happen to her. She had contacts in the business. She’d have a new job by the end of the day. She jumped out of bed and, with a pot of coffee near her laptop and cell phone, started doing research and making calls.

By the end of the day, she didn’t have a new job. By the end of the week, she didn’t have a new job. She had a bruised and battered ego and a growing sense of desperation. She kept telling herself a week wasn’t very long to be unemployed. They’d given her a small severance package, and yeah, she could collect some unemployment benefits, but she was uncomfortably aware of her miniscule savings. She bit her lip as she looked around the apartment she probably couldn’t afford, furnished with lovely things she shouldn’t have splurged on. Holy shnikes!

She knew what she had to do. She had to network. Perseverance was the key.

But nearly a month later, she still had no job.

Giving off an air of desperation was a fast way to kill any interest whatsoever, so in one last effort she dressed in her best Donna Karan suit for a lunch she’d arranged with someone with whom she’d gone to college. Martin worked at Heffington International, a boutique investment bank. This was the kind of company that was lowest on her list. She was the girl who’d been recruited on campus by places like Goldman, and Morgan, and the company she’d ended up with, Englun and Seabrook. Clearly, she was ready to take a salary cut. Hell, she was ready to lick someone’s boots and work for free. Okay, not really. Well, maybe.

“We are hiring,” Martin told her. “We’re making money, although we’re not really up that much in terms of revenues. But hey, we’re not receiving federal bailout monies, and we don’t have a big portfolio of toxic assets.”

“Tell me more,” she murmured, poking her fork into her Cobb salad in the elegant downtown restaurant where she’d lunched many times but which she could no longer afford.

“It’s a great company to work for,” Martin said. “We’ve established ourselves as a trusted and respected advisor. We’re knowledgeable about specific issues and opportunities affecting companies’ strategies, operations, and organic and external growth prospects on a global basis.”

“So the company is solid.”

“Yeah. Hell yeah.”

“Who do I have to talk to there?”

Martin frowned. “The HR director is William Mudge. But you’ve just missed him. He’s just left for three weeks’ vacation.”

Shnikes! But she kept her expression carefully pleasant. “Three weeks? Oh dear. Isn’t someone covering for him while he’s away?”

“Nah. He’s the one who makes the decisions. In consultation with the partners, of course.” He frowned. “I thought I’d heard they’d hired someone a couple of weeks ago and then somehow the offer fell through.”

Urgency rose inside her. Cripes, if they were actively hiring and had already made one offer to someone else that hadn’t worked out, they were probably ready to make another offer. Maybe they already had offered to someone on their short list. “Damn. I wish I’d talked to you sooner. But I guess it is getting into the summer holiday season.” She’d already run into this roadblock a few times.

“Yeah.” He grinned. “He’s off to Greenbush Island with the family. Oceanside Inn. Nice place.”

Greenbush Island? Devon sat up straighter. “Really? I grew up close to there. Promise Harbor.”

“Oh yeah? Nice area. Very quaint.”

Yeah, that was the word.

“I’m invited to a wedding there this weekend,” she said slowly.

Holy shitballs. Her mind started racing as she and Martin talked more about the private equity business focused on leading middle-market, consumer-oriented companies. The company she now had a burning need to work for.

William Mudge. He was going to be on the island only a short ferry ride away from Promise Harbor.

Where she was invited to a wedding.

But, Jeebus Crust, it was Josh and Allie’s wedding, the wedding she’d already decided she was
not
going to, and just thinking about it caused a stab of pain in her chest. Could she do it?

Chapter Two

She could do it.

She’d repeated the mantra all the way from Boston to Promise Harbor. Now she was almost there. She gripped the steering wheel as she exited I-93. She was having serious doubts about her ability to pull this off now.

She’d wanted to come back and show everyone she was not a rejected, lonely loser—she was a happy, successful businesswoman who could attend the wedding of her former boyfriend and best friend, because she was over him. But the reality now was—she was unemployed, alone, and only a modest bank account stood between her and having to sublet her apartment and move somewhere cheaper. As for being over Josh… Well, she didn’t have much choice about that.

Why had she come?

Oh yeah. William Mudge. Heffington International.

The familiar sign greeted her:
Promise Harbor, Population 20,121. We promise you’ll love us.

She smiled. As a kid she’d always asked how they knew exactly how many people lived there, and did the mayor, Marbell Jacobs, go and change the sign if someone moved away, or every time a baby was born?

She passed the beach—pale, grassy dunes lining the Atlantic Ocean, which stretched out far and blue. She glanced at the weathered, gray-shingled buildings as she drove down narrow streets lined with shady elms. Promise Harbor hadn’t changed much since the last time she’d been there. That had been for Allie’s mom’s funeral. Devon and Josh had been together then, and had come back to support Allie and her family. Josh’s family and Allie’s family had been close for years, their mothers best friends since childhood, and Josh had been nearly as devastated by Lily’s death as Allie had.

That wasn’t the most pleasant memory. And now here she was back again, this time not for a funeral but for a wedding. Allie and Josh’s wedding. Funny how things could change.

She turned down Cranberry Road toward the little house where her dad still lived. She hadn’t seen her dad since that last time she’d been back either. Which was sad, really. They talked once in a while on the phone, but Dad wasn’t much into talking and their conversations were short and to the point. Guilt nudged her a little that she didn’t keep in better touch, but on the other hand, he didn’t make much effort either, and she knew he was probably relieved that she wasn’t there much.

Her stomach tightened even more.

She pulled up on the narrow street in front of the house where she’d grown up. The small cottage with gray shingles and white trim around the windows was still neatly kept, the picket fence newly painted, the lawn mowed. The pink climbing roses her mother had planted still grew up the side of the house where the sidewalk disappeared around to the back. She sighed and climbed out of the car.

She hauled her suitcase out of the trunk and dragged it up the sidewalk toward the house. She expected Dad wasn’t home, probably still working, but hopefully he still hid the key in the same place. There wasn’t a lot of crime in Promise Harbor, and he could probably leave the doors unlocked if he wanted to. But he hadn’t, and dammit, the key wasn’t underneath the clay pot where it always used to be.

She straightened and pushed her hair off her face, turning it up to the warm June sun.