WAIT FOR ALWAYS

1. Savannah

1

SAVANNAH

PRESENT

The only available parking spot was in front of the fire hydrant.

I narrowed my eyes in exasperation. Of course, on the day that I had to deal with this, there wasn’t going to be a single spot in downtown Savannah. This morning was an uncharacteristic eighty degrees and ninety percent humidity in March, and I had a meeting to get to after this.

But no … my d**k ex needed me to get my s**t out of his house today, or he was going to—quote—“chuck it out the window.” It didn’t matter that I’d been asking to come over to get my stuff for weeks. He’d refused at every turn. So, while I knew jumping at the first chance he gave me was playing exactly into his hand, I might never get my favorite cardigan back if I didn’t.

“Bastard,” I muttered under my breath.

I parallel parked in front of the fire hydrant, prayed that I wouldn’t get a ticket, then popped the door on my BMW, and rushed to the sidewalk. My heels clicked noisily as I stormed up the front walk of the dilapidated house. Mark had inherited it from his great uncle and didn’t have the liquid assets to keep it in adequate shape despite or because of his flagrant use of daddy’s money in everything else in his life. The number of red flags I’d ignored climbed ever higher.

I rang the doorbell and tapped my foot. Mark had always hated that. So now, I did it with relish while I waited.

No one came to the door though, and my long, straight brown hair was beginning to curl at the end. I rang again, knowing Mark hated that too.

“Christ, Amelia,” Mark snapped as he wrenched the door open. “So impatient.”

Seven months, nine days, and about fourteen hours—that was exactly how long I’d wasted my time with Mark Armstrong.

“Can I have my stuff?” I asked, not keeping the irritation out of my voice.

I couldn’t even reach for my pageant smile. With the snarl I could barely contain on my lips, no one would ever know that I’d won Miss Georgia

“Don’t want to come in and have a drink?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

He was exactly my type—tall, dark, and handsome with daddy’s money and an old Savannah surname that matched mine. I’d excused a lot of behavior for how well we should have fit together.

“I just want my stuff. Let’s not do this today.”

His smile lit up at my rude behavior. “Come on, pageant queen. Give me a smile.”

I couldn’t manage it. I just crossed my arms. “Mark.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled. “Jesus, never could take a joke.”

A joke. Right.

He kicked a box across the threshold. Actually kicked it.

I reached down and looked through the contents. Of course, my cardigan wasn’t in there. “Where’s my cardigan? The Taylor Swift one.”

“f**k if I know.”

The same old panic took over me at the anger in his voice. Who knew how close he was to letting out that anger on me? I could never quite tell. Still, I refused to back down.

“You know that’s my favorite. I came, just like you wanted me to, so I could get it back.”

“It’s not my fault that you leave your s**t everywhere.”

“Fine. I’ll look for it myself.” I took a half-step toward the house, ready to barrel him down and find that damn cardigan when he burst into laughter.

“Oh, your face. Man, Amelia, you should see yourself. Here’s your f*****g cardigan.”

He reached into the room and tossed it at me. It hit me in the face, and I caught it, trying to suppress my revulsion that I’d ever dated someone this mercilessly cruel. It had taken me a long time to see this in him. Everyone who knew him liked him. No one suspected that how he was in public wasn’t who he was in private. And I’d finally gotten tired of it all. Tired of no one believing me and everyone thinking I was crazy for leaving him. At least I knew well enough not to provoke him any further.

“Thanks, Mark,” I said, dropping the cardi into the box and hefting it into my arms.

“You sure you don’t want to come in?” He shot me a licentious smile.

“I’m quite sure,” I forced out, taking a step back.

His smile fell, and irritation flared in his eyes. “I’m over here, doing you a huge favor. I got all of your stuff together. I made myself available for you. And you can’t even do me the decency of coming inside?”

I was never going into that house again if I could help it.

“What? Too good for me now? Who else are you going to find that’s going to want you?”

I said nothing. Nothing that I wanted to say would be productive. I’d heard that from him before. I’d heard it enough to not know up from down. But even if no one else ever wanted me again, I didn’t want him.

Better yet, I was getting the hell out of Savannah soon enough if all went to plan.

“Unless you’re just running back to Ash,” Mark said.

I winced.

I shouldn’t have, but I did.

When we’d first gotten together, I’d confessed everything to him. How I’d loved Ash Talmadge my entire life while he loved someone else. And how when I finally—finally—had my chance, we’d f****d it all up.

Mark knew enough to be dangerous. Enough to make it so that I’d barely seen Ash for the seven months Mark and I had dated. And when we had run into Ash, Mark’s jealousy had run so hot that I knew better than to ever bring him up.

“Thanks for my stuff,” I said calmly, knowing if I rose to the bait that it was his way of holding me hostage. Then, I turned on my heel and all but ran away from his house.

I slammed the box into the passenger seat of my car. I’d go through it when I got into work. I still had some time before my meeting. I was ninety percent sure that he’d purposely kept something else to lure me back to his doorstep. Certainly wouldn’t put it past him.

I ripped the ticket off of my front window with an irritated growl and dropped into the front seat. Great. Just great.

This was just icing on the cake of a terrible day. I revved the engine and shot out onto the Savannah streets. At least I had a reserved parking spot for my business, and I pulled into it with relief. I pocketed the ticket, hefted the box into my arms again, and crossed Broughton Street to Ballentine—the fashion boutique that was my entire life.

I’d graduated from Parsons with a degree in fashion design, and after spending a couple of years in high-end clothing in Manhattan, I’d left that world behind to open my own business. A business that was currently thriving. Doing so well in fact that I had a meeting that afternoon about opening another location. I was excited and terrified, but anything was better than thinking about Mark.

The bell chimed softly overhead as I toed open the door to the store. My assistant was at the register, and half a dozen women were browsing the selections. Normally, I’d have a smile and kind word for every one of them, but I couldn’t manage it. No amount of debutante and pageant work could force a smile out of me today.

“Rough day?” Sasha asked.

“Cancel everything I have this afternoon, except the Charleston meeting.”

My assistant winced. “Mark?” she guessed.

“The devil,” I growled.

Sasha shot me a sympathetic look, but I couldn’t handle sympathy today. I wanted to hold on to my anger. That fire was necessary to survive. I had a pageant dress to finish, a business plan to hone, and a life-or-death meeting for the success of my boutique.

“There’s one more thing,” Sasha began.

“Save it for later.”

I pushed past Sasha and into the back room. The door to my office was propped open. I frowned in confusion. Sasha was always careful about leaving it closed. If I had been robbed on top of the rest of today, I was going to f*****g lose it.

But when I stepped into my office, there was already someone inside.

“Ash,” I whispered.

The man of my dreams turned slowly to face me. He was dressed in a tailored navy-blue suit that hugged his broad shoulders and tapered sharply to his trim waist. The white button-up underneath was crisp and paired with a charcoal tie. His dark hair had been cut short on the sides with just enough length on the top to gel it into an artful appearance. And those perfect crystal-clear blue eyes were looking straight into me.

My heart fluttered at the sight of him. The uninterrupted sight. When I’d been dating Mark, I couldn’t appreciate just how gorgeous he was. I wasn’t supposed to notice that he was the most attractive person I had ever laid eyes on. And in this moment, it was almost impossible to remember that I was furious with him.

“Hey, Mia,” he said with that heart-stopping smile.

“No,” was the only word that came out of my mouth.

His smile dimmed. “No?”

“I cannot do this today.” I dropped the box onto a chair and shook my arms out. “You should go.”

“What’s with the box?”

I glared at him. “I don’t owe you answers.”

“Mia …”

I closed my eyes against the pain of that nickname. Once upon a time, we’d been close enough that he could call me that. We’d been close enough that I thought we were finally going to get our happily ever after. But it wasn’t like that for us. It never had been, and it never would be.

“I’ve had a really shitty day already, and I can’t do whatever this is.”

“You don’t even know why I’m here.”

I met his gaze. “You found out about me and Mark.”

He shrugged. “I found out the day it happened.”

“Really?” I asked with an arched eyebrow. “That was weeks ago.”

“And I wanted to show up weeks ago.”

“And yet …”

“I would have,” he said quickly, “but Derek told me he’d kill me.”

I snorted. “That sounds like my brother.”

“He was right. He usually is.”

Derek had been right. I’d needed the time to decompress from the s**t with Mark. It was hard enough, seeing Ash now. I would have blown a gasket if he’d shown up right afterward.

“Why are you here?” I demanded.

“Go to lunch with me.”

Lunch. Ash and I had had a standing lunch date for years. Back when I’d been in love with him and he’d been my best friend. Back when things had been shockingly less complicated and so much sadder. Lunch was a death trap.

“No, thank you.”

“Then, dinner,” he pressed.

My heart flipped. Oh, how I would have died for him to ask me to dinner a year ago. I wished that it could have been enough. That any of it could have been enough.

I turned my back on that perfect smile and the little dimple that showed in his cheek. It was much harder to turn him down when I was looking at him. “I can’t. I have a meeting.”

“You have a meeting tonight?”

“I’m not going out with you, Ash.”

His hand came to my arm, and he turned me to face him. “Amelia, I know that we handled this all wrong in the past. That was my fault. Please let me try to make this right.”

I extracted my arm from his touch. The past had proven time and time again that this was never going to work the way I wanted it to. If I said yes today, then I’d never take that meeting. I’d never talk to a developer about opening another boutique in Charleston. I’d never leave my hometown and start over.

So, I shook my head. Ash Talmadge couldn’t derail my plans. Not again.

“I can’t,” I choked out. “Please … just go.”

Ash looked like he wanted to say more. His hand hovered toward me as if he was going to try to change my mind. He could. I was certain of it. Ash had a persuasive flare that was unparalleled. He was a businessman. He got what he was after. I was the current pursuit, and I wanted to give in. I wanted it so badly that it ached. Yet I stood my ground.

He must have seen the resolution harden in my face. Because he finally nodded.

“Good luck with your meeting. Maybe another time.” He straightened his suit and shot me one last searching look before stepping out of my office.

I sank into the chair behind my desk and buried my head in my hands. Today was a nightmare. And I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d f****d up horribly.

Ash Talmadge was the one person I’d always wanted. I’d wanted him for as long as I could remember. Seventeen-year-old me would have berated me endlessly for denying him a date. That innocent girl had wanted nothing more than for him to notice her. I remembered it like it was yesterday.

But I couldn’t go backward.

Even if I wanted to.