A Long Way to Fall, page 17
What she was walking into was all her dad’s fault, and she found herself wanting to hate him for everything he’d done on Elk Mountain. Unfortunately, Michael didn’t agree that it was time to let it all go, which made him just as bad as her father. Kennedy was about to lose him too. Because if he did what he planned to do, she’d never speak to him again. Or his child. He’d be dead to her.
The only person she’d have left was her mother, but she wouldn’t really have her since she’d abandoned the family when Kennedy was in grade school. It had been ten years since she’d even seen her, and now she had to consider what her dad’s role had been in that.
All Kennedy wanted was the chance at a future with Bridget. Sure, they’d only kissed twice, but sometimes, that was all a person needed. How many of history’s greatest love stories started before the first kiss? Maybe with just a look or a touch? Kennedy didn’t know, but she was sure there had to be some. Unfortunately, with all the Fleming-Berg baggage, she already knew this was one case where love would not conquer all.
The poor kid at the T-Mobile store got to witness a total meltdown when Michael had told her what she was about to walk into. Leases and property line disputes and slope access. Just great. Michael claimed he’d never misled her about meeting with a real estate agent. Sure. He just said he’d set up a meeting about the “disposition of dad’s property.” Gee, why wouldn’t she think that meant she was about to get thrown into some shootout between the Hatfields and McCoys? She wished they were more like the Montagues and Capulets, but she was pretty sure that in about two minutes, Bridget wasn’t going to see Kennedy as her Romeo.
Apparently, under Utah law, when acting on behalf of a family member using a Power of Attorney, some member of the family must be physically present, even if it wasn’t the person who had actual authority. In this case, that person was Michael. Kennedy was there simply to be the family representative. She was only following through on her agreement to go to this meeting in the hope that she could persuade Michael to let it go.
She opened the door and had three sets of eyes on her, but she could only focus on Bridget. And she looked confused. Kennedy imagined Bridget wanted to know why and how and when. All she could do was whisper, “I didn’t know.”
She felt like all of the blood had left her body, so she gripped the back of a chair. A woman stood and said, “You must be Kennedy. I’m Catherine Holmes, representing your father’s interests.”
The lawyer whose office it was also stood. “Ms. Fleming, I’m Peter Strand. I represent Ms. Berg. Now, enough with the suspense. Why are we here?”
Catherine interceded. “Kennedy, please have a seat, and we’ll get your brother on speakerphone.”
She pulled out the chair next to her, which put Kennedy sitting across the table from Bridget, who had a look of concern on her face. That seemed better than expected.
Bridget took a water glass from a tray and poured it half-full, then offered it to Kennedy. “You don’t look so good. Drink this.” Clearly, she didn’t know how bad it was, or she’d have thrown the water in her face.
Michael’s voice came through the speakerphone in the middle of the table. “Is everyone there?” he asked. “Ken?”
The words got stuck in her throat. “I’m…I’m here.”
Bridget furrowed her brow again, but Kennedy couldn’t hold her gaze. How could she when her family was about to tear Bridget’s world apart?
“Go ahead, Catherine,” Michael said.
“Okay, then. The contract between Jerry Fleming and Boden Berg, signed on December 1st, 1981, expired on December 1st, 2021. Therefore, any current use of said property is illegal and shall be terminated immediately.”
Bridget leaned forward. “I’m sorry. What property are we talking about?”
Kennedy’s lawyer pushed a piece of paper across the table with what looked like a surveyor’s drawing on it. “It’s the strip of land you and your guests use to access the ski trails.”
Peter Strand piped up. “I had no idea this contract even existed, or I would’ve done something about it sooner.”
“Nor did I,” Kennedy said. “Bridget, look at me.” But she wouldn’t. She kept her eyes on the map. “May I see this contract?”
Catherine took two copies out of a manila folder. One for Bridget and one for her lawyer. Kennedy gestured for a copy of her own. It was a simple contract. One that allowed Boden Berg access to that tiny strip of land for forty years, and it appeared that Boden had paid Bridget’s dad a lump sum of one hundred thousand dollars.
Underneath his signature, her dad had written, We’ll be old and gray when this expires, but I hope to God we’ll still be best friends.
Kennedy raised her head to find Bridget staring at her. “They were friends?” Bridget asked.
Kennedy shook her head; she was just as confused about the whole thing, and then Michael’s voice came booming through the speaker. “Now that everyone’s up to speed, here’s our offer. Ms. Berg, can you hear me?”
Bridget turned toward the speaker. “Yes.”
“Good. We’ll sell the only access that the Boden Berg Lodge has to the ski resort for one million dollars, payable by January 1st, 2022, and we’ll need a signed agreement to that affect, or we’ll terminate your access starting tomorrow.” He sounded so stern and businesslike, Kennedy hardly recognized him as her brother.
Bridget turned to her, then back to the speaker. “Are you serious? You want me to come up with a million dollars for a tiny strip of land in two weeks, or you’ll cut me off tomorrow?”
“It may be a tiny strip of land, but I think you can see how valuable it is. If your guests can’t access the slopes—”
“Michael, shut up,” Kennedy said. “Bridget is well aware of how important that strip of land is to her business. Don’t be so condescending.”
Silence filled the room for a moment before Bridget said, “Where is Jerry, and why am I not dealing with him? If he and my dad were friends at one time, then I’m sure he’d be willing to work with me on this.” She turned to Kennedy. “Where’s your dad?”
“I…we…haven’t had the chance to really—”
“Our father is in a home,” Michael said. “I have full authority to represent his interests in this matter.”
Bridget hadn’t taken her eyes off Kennedy. “And who do you represent in this matter?”
Kennedy wanted to scream that she represented no one but herself and that she had nothing to do with this last-minute bombshell. “I honestly thought—”
“Ken, let Catherine handle this,” Michael said.
“You have our terms,” Catherine said. “Speak with your lawyer and get back to us.”
Bridget turned to Peter. “Can they really do this?”
“Unfortunately, they can,” he said.
“And we will,” Catherine added. “You’ve been trespassing since December first.”
“I didn’t know that,” Bridget said. “We’re always careful about not trespassing on Jerry’s property, but I thought that the trail to the slopes was ours.”
“That’s on you, not us,” Catherine said. “And we have the right to secure that property immediately.”
“Christmas is coming up. I’m fully booked. And I don’t even know if that contract is real.”
Peter opened a folder. “I’ve compared Boden’s signatures. They match, Bridget. And the contract was notarized.”
Bridget clasped her hands and lowered her gaze. Kennedy could only imagine the panic she was feeling. The fear that she was about to lose everything her dad had built. She needed to talk some sense into her brother. “Michael, this is ridiculous. I’m calling you, and you better pick up.” She pushed back from the table and rushed out of the room. Luckily, she knew right where the bathroom was.
She locked herself in a stall and called him. “What the fuck, Michael?”
“Ken, calm down.”
“Michael, I’m begging you, please don’t do this. We can work this out with her. They were friends once, Dad and Boden. Why can’t we honor that friendship and let Bridget pay monthly or something?”
“From what I’ve found in Dad’s paperwork, Boden has tried for years to get Dad to sell it to him, but he never would. That’s the decision we should honor. And besides, you stand to gain as much from this as I do. We both inherit equally under Dad’s will.”
Kennedy closed her eyes. “You don’t understand, Michael. I…love her.”
Michael laughed. “Yeah. You always fall for the unavailable girls, which is why you’re still single.”
“Bridget is available. Very available. And I think she feels the same way. But if you do this to her, you’ll break both our hearts.”
“Listen to me, Ken. She’s not available to you, okay? I know what Dad’s plan was, and I’m following through on it.”
“Why? It’s not as if he’s going to pat you on the back for ruining Bridget’s life. He can’t even…” She choked back her emotions. “Michael, he doesn’t even know who we are anymore. We’ve lost him.”
“That’s not true. When I told Dad that I’d found the old contract, you know what he did? He smiled at me. He actually smiled. And then he said, ‘bury that bastard.’ So don’t tell me he doesn’t know what he wants.”
“Oh, great. So you’re telling me that the only thing Dad remembers about his life is his hatred for Boden Berg? Well, guess what, Michael, Boden is dead, and his daughter is an amazing person, and I will not let you hurt her because of some feud between two old men.”
“You need to see the bigger picture, Ken. And it’s a huge picture. Imagine how cheap that lodge will be when it has zero access to the slopes. Then imagine combining Dad’s property with it, including all the land around the cabin. They’d have not a tiny strip of land with access but over a hundred feet of slope-side land. A developer would pay millions for that property. They could put a big hotel on it or condos or whatever.”
His voice was filled with so much excitement, it sickened Kennedy. How could he find so much joy in ruining a person’s life? Taking away their inheritance? Their home? Was this really who her family was, and somehow, she hadn’t gotten the memo?
“I’m going to say it again, Michael. I love her. Does that mean nothing to you?”
“You’ve been there since Friday. It’s Tuesday, Ken. Don’t be such a teenager.”
Her phone went dead. She dropped it into her purse and slumped against the wall. She gave herself a few minutes to pull herself together enough to go back out there, and just as she opened the door, she saw Bridget. And Bridget saw her, but she kept walking toward the exit. Kennedy caught up with her outside. “Bridget! Give me two minutes to explain. Please?”
Bridget turned around. “Are you serious? What could you possibly say that would make this okay? And why the hell didn’t you tell me Jerry was in a home?”
“Because I tend to get a little upset when I have to tell people that my own father doesn’t even recognize me anymore.” Kennedy dared to step a little closer. “I swear, I knew nothing about this.”
Bridget took on a defiant stance by folding her arms. “Why are you here, then?”
“My brother is about to have a baby, so he sent me here in his place. He was really vague about the details.”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
“It’s the truth, Bridget. I swear, I knew nothing about this meeting. I assumed I was here to meet with a real estate agent or something since…” Kennedy put a hand over her mouth to stop her lip from quivering.
“Since what?” Bridget snapped back.
“Since my dad can’t come up here anymore. He has dementia. It’s gotten bad enough that we had to put him in a home that has twenty-four-hour care.”
“A fact which I totally would have sympathized with had you bothered to tell me. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s been trying to destroy our business for years, and now, even if he doesn’t know it, he finally succeeded, didn’t he?”
Kennedy couldn’t dispute her assertion. Even though she didn’t know all the details, there was certainly enough evidence of her father’s, and now Michael’s, callousness. “I’m going to call my brother,” she said. “I’ll convince him that there are other options. In the meantime, please don’t shut me out.”
“I have to,” Bridget said. “It was a mistake to ever let you in.”
It was all back. The angry indignant expression. The hostile tone in her voice. The fast clip to get as far away from Kennedy as she possibly could. Bridget, Jerry’s Version, was back. Only it was worse this time around because Kennedy had gotten a glimpse of the real Bridget Berg. She’d experienced that version with all her senses on full tilt and her heart wide open to the possibility of having something real. Not temporary. Not a fling on Elk Mountain, only to go back home and forget it ever happened.
Life would never be the same now that she’d met Bridget. There would always be the “before time” when life was good and prosperous due to a lot of hard work. But now, there would be the “after time” when life would still be prosperous due to a lot of hard work but also lacking in something. There would also be that question that would nag at her while she drank her morning cup of coffee—could it have worked? Could they have made something real and lasting together?
Of course, every time she drank a cup of coffee, it would remind her of how she had to bribe Seth, and then there would be a snowball of memories that would roll through her mind that she’d probably try to snuff out by having shallow sex. Not just shallow but also very unfulfilling because even though she hadn’t yet had sex with Bridget, she was sure no woman would be good enough to make her forget what might have been.
Damnit, why did it all have to end this way? And why did the woman of her dreams have to live on top of a mountain?
* * *
It wasn’t Bridget’s proudest moment when she texted Harriet to let her know she’d be in the storage closet on the top floor if anyone needed her. Like, hey, I own this place, but I’m gonna go hide out for a while the way I did when I was a sulky little kid. But that was exactly how she felt. Sulky, hurt, angry, humiliated. She’d been duped. Conned. Seduced. And God, did she feel foolish. She should’ve listened to Harriet, not to mention all the voices in her own head telling her to be careful, beware, don’t get too close, don’t believe a word that comes out of that beautiful mouth.
Kissing that beautiful mouth was as far as she’d gotten with Kennedy. On second thought, when they’d kissed on the snowmobile, she had slid her hands down Kennedy’s back and for the briefest of moments, had them on a very nice ass. If she was honest with herself, Bridget would admit that a part of her wished they’d had one night together in bed before finding out the truth. The attraction had seemed so strong between them that she was sure it would’ve been amazing.
At first, the way Kennedy had taken the time to appreciatively gaze over Bridget had pissed her off. So did the clever little comebacks and snarky sense of humor. Everything about Kennedy had pissed Bridget off at first, but that had changed after the snowplow incident. In Kennedy’s vulnerable, almost broken state, Bridget had been able to see the whole person, not just the last name, and all the things that had irritated her because of who Kennedy was became desirable. Especially, the way Kennedy had looked at her. She’d wanted those beautiful brown eyes to roam her body when she had nothing on, and that might’ve happened had Lola not insisted Kennedy stay at that bed and breakfast. Had Bridget brought her back up the mountain, she was sure they would’ve shared a bed.
Given Kennedy’s fractured toe, they might have only cuddled, but also given the strong attraction between them, cuddles might have turned into kisses, and with kisses, hands might have slipped under pajama tops. Bridget smiled because in reality, her speculations were all wrong. She had no doubt that Kennedy wouldn’t have let a sore toe keep her from having exactly what she wanted, which brought Bridget back to those roaming eyes. Kennedy wanted her, and it felt good to be wanted that way again. At least, it had before that goddamned meeting yesterday.
In her youth, Bridget had liked the storage closet because it had a small window with a great view. That meant she could hide but not feel shut off from the world. There used to be a stool that she had to stand on to see out the window. Now, it was the perfect height for her to put her elbows on the sill and rest her cheeks in her hands and wonder why the world was so cruel, just as she’d done years before.
A knock on the door caused her to whip around and lean against the wall all casual, as if hanging out in a storage closet was anything normal. “Come in, Harriet.”
Lola opened the door. “It’s me. She told me I might find you up here.”
“Of course she did. Wow, that woman is about to get on my last nerve.”
“Seems like you have a few women getting on your last nerve right now.”
“When I told her where I’d be, it didn’t mean I wanted her to send people up here. Close the door behind you.” She turned and leaned a shoulder against the wall with her arms folded.
Lola stood next to her and peered out the small window. “What are we looking at?”
Not wanting to fully admit that she was hiding from the world, Bridget said, “This room has the best view of both the Fleming cabin and the access trail.”
“You’re not planning to hire a sniper, are you?”
“If I was, I wouldn’t tell the local sheriff.”
Lola smiled. “I’ve taught you well.”
“It wasn’t you,” Bridget said. “I watch too many of those true crime shows. Rarely does murder-for-hire go unpunished.”
“That’s probably true. Also, you’d be suspect number one, and do you know what their first question would be?”
“Yep. And if this is your way of trying to find out where my relationship with the potential victim stands, then color me surprised that Harriet hasn’t already filled you in. Not that I told her, but somehow, she seems to know everything, and when it comes to my personal life, I find that incredibly intrusive.”
