Forever Yours, Almost. Whitmere Family Legacy Book 1

SLOANE

“Ms. Hart” the front desk attendant starts shouting loudly towards me the moment I step from the elevator- I try to picture anyone else in this building as Ms. Hart and not me, not the full fledged professional that was reduced to dust up there. “Ms. Hart” she continues, following me and making a scene- restaurant goers stop consuming their salads and drinks like I’m a criminal at this point- watching and waiting.

I spin on my heels and turn and face the young girl- looking at her she’s maybe sixteen. Blonde, young, the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen in real life- and she looks scared “Yes?” I say to her breathlessly trying to make it look like I just didn’t see or hear a hotel employee. “Ms. Hart,” she says again, so worried “I didn’t want to upset you But Mr. Whitmere wanted me to remind you that you are a special VIP guest and your quarters are located on floor eleven with the rest of the special guests and family.” As she relays the end of her message she tugs at her blonde braid hanging over one shoulder “I’m really sorry about this ma’am” she stumbles- “I know you seem really ready to leave- but I really need this job. My family depends on it. Please don’t let Mr. Whitmere or his colleagues find out I sleep on the job” she said with her eyes downcast, still fidgeting with her hair. “Fine.” I say briskly but not without the fakest elegant smile I can obtain- I read her nametag briefly. “Maya” I say sweetly- “I forgot in the haste of wrapping up my meeting, that I was not to stay in the rental I was provided by my company for the next foreseeable future. Please forgive me” I concluded with a smile. What a nightmare. Maya breathed out a sigh of relief and took me by the arm- “of course Ms. Hart, business meetings are tough- let me whisk you up to your room and then I’ll arrange for that forgotten luggage that must be at that location” she said with the largest smile I’ve ever seen as she trugs me back to that damned elevator.

“Ma’am thank you so much” Maya says as the elevator closes- “you don’t know how much I need this job, thank you again” she says with a genuine smile. Not surprised I think in my head. This family loves power. They crave owning people smaller than them. As the elevator opens back to the floor I just left- I really take it in this time without Rhett clouding my brain. It’s much different than the lobby. The colors are rich and warm. They feel like home. Not stark, contrasting colors dripped in elegance, like the lobby that conveys status and wealth and all things perfect and powerful- here it’s like an actual home. Rich wood and jewel tones surround me. Curated arts- for pleasure, not status. Maya says “all the paintings in this wing were custom painted for Mr Whitmere by his late sister in law, Candice Whitmere. Unfortunately she passed away, but all of these beautiful paintings exist because of her.” Wow. I think to myself. I know family means more to the Whitmeres than anything, so did she. Green plants in various pots, small trinkets on shelves and tables that resemble real life. Maya's voice plays in my head but all I hear are snippets as I take in the beauty around me “special guests, important guests, friends of the family” I’m definitely none of these I smirk. Then she continues “to the west are all the family offices and suites. To the east is Mr. Whitmere's office and his private rooms. Mr. Whitmere’s rooms all use one key card. He requested you have one upon check-in to your room.” She states as I follow her- “ah, ha we have arrived at your room Ms Hart.” She says with a smile. I’m wary looking at the door. A placard to the right of the door reads The Magnolia Room. It has a fully adorned magnolia carved door, covered with raindrops as far as I can see- and conveniently located right across from Rhett’s office I was in earlier. I smile- “Thank you Maya for your hospitality” as I reluctantly take the key card to my room. And his.

I swipe my card, throw my briefcase and purse into the room without even glancing around or turning on the lights and head straight back towards the elevator. The lobby bar is easy to find. It’s located straight across from the lobby bar. It doesn’t mirror the marble front desk- instead it’s dark walnut like the trim in the lobby. Crystal lighted shelves line the wall behind it displaying every kind of liquor you could imagine. The bar is lined with green velvet stools, that are littered with people.

I slide into a stool and give the bartender a nod. Then I hear it sliding through the air, soft but it feels like it’s stabbing me with a knife.

“That’s her.”

“Rhett’s girl.”

“After what her father did…”

“Bold coming back.”

“Guess she thinks money erases everything.”

I don’t order anything. I slide from the velvet seat. Headed to the elevator and me are my thoughts.

I have to go find him, even if it is a mistake.

RHETT

The hotel is quiet in the way only expensive places get after midnight. It’s often my solitude. Nothing but me, my thoughts and my whiskey.

There’s no noise. No chaos. Just soft lighting, polished floors, and the hum of something always running beneath the surface- love, loss, money, power, and expectation.

I pour two fingers of my most expensive whiskey and lean against the bar in my office, staring out at the dark stretch of countryside beyond the windows. To some this would be the most beautiful place on earth. Stars as far as the eyes can see- green grass and landscape even further. But to me it’s a prison. A place I’ve made for two people but only one of us is here. Until tonight.

I know she’s still here. I feel it. I had tried to make sure of it. I even convinced the poor blonde girl at the front desk to make sure she remained- no matter what. A handsome bonus included. She seemed frightened- but determined at that challenge and wanted to make me happy. Who wouldn’t want to? I own the place.

I’ve known since Sloane walked out of my office earlier- well when I dismissed her; and my chest didn’t stop tightening like I’d done something wrong just by letting her leave again. I should have forced her to stay. I should have begged if that’s what it took. I should have made the meeting last- for God's sakes. I’m paying her firm over seven figures at minimum for this remodel. Im lost in my thoughts about her- swirling my whiskey in the thick crystal Glass, when The knock comes soft. I almost think I imagined it- but here it comes again

Soft. Measured. Like she’s giving me a chance to say no. “Come in Sloane ,” I said huskily.

Sloane steps inside cautiously, she’s barefoot now. Her hair is looser, makeup gone, she looks like she stepped out of the shower then just dressed ready to see me- her silk dress traded for something softer- a cashmere sweater, black leggings better than any designer dress could look on her body. She looks less armored like this. More dangerous. More calculating.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she says timidly, looking at me through her lashes. I nod once. Understanding. “Whiskey?” She hesitates, a look on her face of turmoil “Neat.” She replies.

I turn to my bar and grab another crystal glass before filling it. When exactly did Sloane move from fuzzy navel wine coolers? When did she become a woman, who asks for whiskey? When the drink is acceptable I turn and head towards her and clear the space between us to hand her the glass. Our fingers brush. Our touch is Electric. Immediate. Unforgiving. She takes a sip and winces. I smile despite myself. “You never liked it,” I say. She hesitates for a momenta “I liked the idea of liking it. It’s for people like us - it’s status. You don’t see billionaires like you drinking vodka sodas- it’s all things powerful. Expensive whisky and scotch. Brandy too. And of course every fine wine.” She says quickly. Nervously. I then watch her swallow, her throat moving slowly, deliberately, and have to look away before memory knocks me flat. I retreat to the bar- my safe place.

She moves closer, leaning against the bar straight across from me. “This beautiful place,” she says quietly. “You built all of this. It’s marvelous- I’m speechless.” She says as she sips her whiskey.

“Yeah.” I affirm.

“I always knew you would.” She sighs, holding the cup to her perfect lips. There’s something fragile in that- admiration edged with regret. “I built it because I didn’t know what else to do with the anger,” I say. Her gaze lifts to mine. I feel like she really sees me in this moment. Her Green eyes soften and glisten in the shadows “I never meant to hurt you, Rhett.”

“I know,” I say, even though that truth took years to settle. A decade even- and is it settled? Because it feels fresh. “It doesn’t mean it didn’t.” I reply.

Silence stretches between us, thick and charged. The room feels like it will implode at any second. Sloane sets her glass down on the marble bar top, hands folding together like she’s steadying herself.

“Why does it still feel like this?” she asks, looking straight through me . “Like no time passed at all Rhett?” I step closer before I can stop myself. Close enough that her breath warms my chest and my neck. “Because some things don’t fade,” I growl. “They wait.” Her eyes flick to my mouth.

Then back to my eyes. “If we cross this line,” she whispers, “there’s no pretending afterward.” “I’m done pretending,” I say.

Her breath stutters. Mine does too. For a moment- just one singular moment I think she’s going to close the distance. She’s going to give us both our last ten years back.

Instead, she presses her palm flat against my chest. Right over my heart. Her hand is firm; pushing ever so slightly. The contact is simple.

It’s devastating.

“I came here for a business deal, Rhett.” She says softly, “but aside from that, if.. even if I stay this time… even if I’m a crazy person and want to come back, I need to know I’m not doing it alone.” I cover her hand with mine, holding it there, feeling the truth in my bones. “You never were.” I replied more sure than anything I’ve ever felt. She exhales, long and shaky, and steps back; breaking the moment, but not the connection.

“Goodnight, Rhett.”

“Goodnight, Sloane.”

She turns and leaves my office, and the room feels emptier than it did before she walked in. But for the first time in ten years.. I don’t feel hopeless.

I feel like something has finally started.