Snapshot (Lessons in Love Book 2)

Present Day

Miami

Memories of Grandma flash through my mind as the plane touches down on the tarmac. She was always alone. Even before Grandpa’s health declined, every memory I have of her is by herself. There was always a business trip or a pressing matter. He was skilled at finding an excuse to avoid spending time with his wife and family. I think he regretted it after Mom passed away, but there was no time to rectify anything. By then, Grandma had found comfort in self-sufficiency. She stopped wanting his attention. Grandma didn’t check on Grandpa’s schedule when she arranged trips, parties, or events. She just lived her life regardless of whether Grandpa wanted to be a part of it or not.

I never really pictured getting married, but I know I wouldn’t want my wife to have the small touch of sadness in her eyes that Grandma did. Except it seems I’m following in my grandpa’s exact footsteps.

Lennox has spent an entire week in Miami by herself. My very first big act as her husband was asking her to meet me at our new home and then basically abandoning her to navigate on her own. Crisis after crisis came up. Every time I made arrangements to get me back to Miami, something else popped up.

First, it was flying to L.A. to loop Emmett into my new business idea. Luxe Adventure took a major hit this quarter. We’re going to have to retire a ship if it doesn’t start turning a profit soon. That also would entail letting go of about ten percent of our workforce. Not ideal. So, that agenda was necessary. Next, after three cancellations back-to-back of one of our most prominent port of calls, I had to fly out to the Caribbean to untangle egregiously rising port fees. Further investment can only buy me so much time. Now, we have at least thirty itineraries to rearrange, and I need marketing to package this as an upgrade versus a change in schedule to avoid losing even more revenue.

It’s always fires. Sometimes I envy the publicly owned companies who have a team of shareholders and stakeholders to make these decisions together. Privately owned status gives me all the control…and all the burden.

“Thank you, Rhodes. See you next time,” I say to my pilot, Art Jones, as I descend from the jet.

“Good evening, Sir. Looking forward to meeting the missus next trip.”

I nod, remembering the plans I mentioned to Jones on our way to Los Angeles to meet Emmett. I have every intention of taking a week off before the end of the year and treating Lennox to an actual honeymoon.

I hustle to my transportation. Joe stands dutifully next to the passenger door. “Welcome home, Mr. Hessler.”

I smirk at him. “Really? We’re back to this ‘Mr. Hessler’ bullshit?”

He laughs. “Force of habit. Welcome home, Dex.”

“That’s better.”

He glances over my shoulder at the stairs where the pilot set my luggage. “Is that your only bag?”

“Yes. A lot of last-minute trips. I’ve been washing and wearing the same outfit for a week. God, it’s good to be home.”

Joe hustles to the stairs to grab my luggage. Once he pops it into the trunk, he asks, ‘What time should I retrieve you for the office tomorrow?”

“No need. I’m going to take tomorrow off. Spend a long weekend with my wife.”

“Good idea,” Joe says as I climb into the back seat. “She’s having a rough day. I think she’ll be happy to see you.”

He shuts the car door behind me before I can ask him what he means. And as soon as I pull out my phone, I don’t need to. An email from my PR team with the subject line: Crisis Management Action Plan, clarifies why Lennox is having a bad day.

The email contains a link to a BuzzLit article that I know I don’t want to read. It’s the trashiest, sleaziest bullshit gossip publication in the market today. Usually, their interest is in major celebrity scandals. Cheaters are their bread and butter. But I’ve been on flights and in meetings with men in suits for four days straight. Even if news of my recent marriage is circulating, no way they have ammo already to accuse me of infidelity.

I click on the link and nearly choke when I see the article title.

HESSLER GROUP: FROM LEGACY TO LAUGHABLE.

How one Las Vegas hussy swindled American royalty into handing over his billion-dollar fortune and his huge, magic schlong.

Hilarity brought to you by Kat Tearney

Fucking Kat.

I don’t even need to read the article to guess how baseless and cruel her feature is. This woman’s job is humiliating every poor, unsuspecting sap she can get her hands on. She seems to think roasting people and spreading toxicity is a talent.

Her latest victim is apparently my wife, but how the hell did she get her hands on Lennox? Denny told me she arranged a cookie-cutter business interview for Lennox to be released after we announced her as CEO. She didn’t mention BuzzLit, and she most certainly didn’t mention Kat Tearney. I would’ve nipped that shit in the bud.

I click out of the article without reading it and open my contacts. Denny answers on the third ring.

“Dex. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day. It hasn’t been going through.”

Why do I highly doubt that? “Denny…start talking. Fast,” I bite out. “What the fuck happened? I take it you saw the article?”

“I scheduled an interview with Business Elite. Not BuzzLit. I have no clue why Kat Tearney was sent. I would’ve never agreed to that. This is what I’ve been telling you, Dex. Sharks in the water. You can’t trust anybody.”

“Why didn’t you run it by PR?”

“I was trying to handle it. What else am I good for?”

I sigh, hating the pleading tone in her voice. “I take it you read it in its entirety?”

“Burned right through my eyeballs. I hate a lot of reporters but Tearney takes the cake, you know? I don’t know how she has such a huge fan base. She’s the kind of woman that you just know has a coat made of real Dalmatian fur.”

“How bad is it?” I ask, my eyes fixed out the window, watching traffic pass by. “I couldn’t bring myself to read it.” Roasting me is one thing. Going after my wife makes me feel a little murderous.

“The stuff they said about her is absolutely ridiculous. Just Kat up to her usual graceless bullshit. She toes that ‘off-the-record’ line like the fucking Riddler. People in the comments are already calling Kat out for her bitchy behavior.”

“Okay. Then it’ll blow over. I’ll just have to do some damage control with the executive team. This isn’t exactly the way I wanted them to find out about their new CEO.”

“Do you want me to call a meeting?”

“No, I’ll handle it. But anyway, where were you? You were supposed to be there with Lennox. Had you seen Kat walk through that door, you would’ve had the good sense to send her right out. You left my wife high and dry when she needed you most. Help me make sense of that.”

“I know…” She takes a few deep, steadying breaths as I wait for her excuse. “My mom passed the night before the interview. I, um…had some things to take care of.”

That effectively shuts me up. The shock paralyzes me for a moment before I force myself to speak. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Denny. I had no idea. Why didn’t you call me?”

“You know my mother and I were estranged. She had health issues, and her husband handled most of the arrangements; I needed some time to process because…” She sniffles heavily into the phone. “I didn’t expect it to hit me so hard.”

“Well, you just lost both of your moms in the span of a month.”

“My family is gone.” She cries silently into the phone, and there’s nothing I can do. “I tried to call Jeff, but he didn’t answer.”

Jeff and Denny have been divorced for almost two decades. That’s a long time, but I’d like to think he’d have at least some sort of empathy to comfort a friend in a time of need. Their divorce wasn’t messy, to the best of my knowledge. She was also under the Hessler curse as a workaholic, and he grew sick of it. He made her choose…us or him. In hindsight, I wonder if she’s happy with her choice.

“That’s shitty of him.”

“No, he’s remarried. It was probably inappropriate for me to call.”

“Denny…” I don’t know what to say. I try to think of how she comforted me at Grandma’s funeral. “Your family isn’t gone. I’m here.”

“Thank you,” she breathes out, then clears her throat. “Anyway, back to the interview. I can call the PR team to do some damage control. Josie Rivers or Jay Prudence would love to do a rebuttal on anything Tearney writes. I’m still in New York City, going through some of my mother’s things, but I can come back in the morning⁠—”Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

“Denny. Stop. Don’t worry about any of that right now. Lennox and I will figure it out.”

“Okay, that sounds good. By the way, while most of that bullshit in the article was fictitious and exaggerated, there was one thing…”

“What?”

“How much do you know about your new father-in-law, Sam Mitchell?”

I met Mr. Mitchell a time or two in passing. Mostly just a wave when he stopped by Finn’s house. Once, he came into the dive shop with Lennox. I know his sordid secret about trying to take his own life, not that I’d ever speak about it. “Not too much, yet. He’s a nice guy.”

“Did you know he’s a white-collar felon? Unfortunately, of all Kat’s allegations, that one has merit. Do you remember that huge embezzlement scandal with Seaguard Investments about ten years ago? They stole from their employee’s pensions to pad some up-and-coming Silicon Valley investments, and it all tanked? They lost hundreds of millions.”

“What does that have to do with Lennox’s dad?”

“He signed the transfers, Dex. He did it. It’s a miracle he’s not in prison. It just doesn’t look good that his daughter is now the CEO of Hessler Group. Kat made some snarly statements about the apple not falling far from the tree.”

“Fuck her,” I mutter into the phone. Feeling nauseous, I roll down the window, letting some air into the vehicle.

“It’s obviously a stretch, but there are some comments… Um, how close is Lennox to her dad?”

“Very,” I answer.

“Then tread with caution. If she read the article or anything online pertaining to that article…she’s having a bad day.”

I sigh, feeling my heart twist in my chest. Lennox has been alone all day. Plenty of time to cry in private. I bet I’ll get home, and she’ll pretend like she’s perfectly okay, making a mental note to never rely on me. Had I come home when I said I was going to, none of this would’ve happened. “Denny, I’m going to take the weekend off, but if you need anything, call me. Take care and take as much time as you need. We’ll be okay.”