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Now she had to face Mama. She was going to be in big trouble. And now her birthday party was ruined.
She let out a howl as Mama’s nails dug into her skin. “Stop that crying and fussing, Fancy. You are not going to make a spectacle of yourself. Not when we have guests here celebrating you.”
“But you’re hurting my arm. And those girls were saying bad things about me and Mrs. Lucas.” Her lips began to quiver. “And Daddy too.”
Her mother’s jaw dropped for a moment. She shook her head, a look of disgust stamped on her face. “Don’t listen to a word they say. Mrs. Lucas is an angel from heaven. Those girls are jealous of you. Always have been. Always will be.”
“Why are they picking on me? I didn’t do anything to them.” She knew she was whining, but she was upset. It was her birthday and they had ruined her special day. Why couldn’t they just be nice on this one day?
Her mother bent over so that her face was on level with Fancy. She was gazing directly into her eyes. Fancy looked into the ice blue eyes that were almost identical to her own. “Those girls know already that you’re beautiful, Fancy, in a way that they’ll never be. They’re ordinary. You are extraordinary, my dear.”
Fancy could feel the hot sting of tears as they ran down her face. Her birthday had been trashed by mean girls. She didn’t care about being beautiful. It was her special day and now it was tarnished.
“Remember, Fancy, your looks are your best attribute. You’re not very smart. You’re not funny. It’s not like you’re going to be a brain surgeon.” Her mother narrowed her gaze as she studied her features. “You have a beautiful face, Fancy. It’s going to get you far in life. You have the kind of beauty that men buzz around like bees to honey. So, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll
put a big smile on your face and come back to the party and act like you have some sense in that head of yours. This too shall pass.”
“But those girls were saying terrible things about me!” she sobbed. “And my dress is all wrinkled now. I probably look terrible.”
Mama reached out and smoothed down her hair. She tugged at her hair bow and adjusted it. “Let this be a lesson to you, missy. People are going to be mean. They’re going to talk about you. Do you think I don’t get talked about?” Her mother let out a hoot of bitter laughter.“Everyone has something that sets them apart from everyone else. Those girls who were making fun of you are ordinary. Plain as pudding. And sadly, that is making them spiteful toward you. I’m sure of it. So you can sit in here and wallow in it or you can get yourself together, put your best foot forward and come back to the party. Don’t worry about those girls. If they’re still here I’ll run ‘em out on a rail. And your father is out there looking for you, so come quickly.”
Mama turned on her heels and began walking toward the sliding glass doors, her shoes making a clicking sound on the tiles as she sashayed. Daddy was here! He’d come to the party after all. Daddy being here would make everything so much better.
With trembling fingers, Fancy wiped away all of her tears. She peeked in the mirror. Her eyes were red and her skin looked a little blotchy. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down. There was no way she could go back to the party looking like a crybaby. She began to breathe in and out as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror.
“No one will like you if you’re not pretty. Because you’re not smart. You’re not funny. You’ll never be a brain surgeon. You’re pretty.” She said the words aloud as she gazed into the mirror. “So I’m going to be the best pretty that I can be. Because then everyone will love me. Mama. Daddy. And maybe someday my very own Prince Charming.”
Fancy adjusted the sash around her middle and smoothed back her hair. She looked nice. Nobody would suspect a thing. Maybe Morgan would. She always seemed to see straight through to her soul.
Fancy would remember this birthday for many years to come. She’d learned something valuable today. Being pretty was her worth. Everything revolved around it. From this point forward she would make sure that she didn’t forget it. Not ever.
“Hold your head up high and don’t ever let anyone see the tears or the sweat or the fear. If you do…you’ve lost!” June Tolliver
Chapter One
Fancy Tolliver bit her lip hard as she stood outside Savannah House and gazed lovingly at the huge structure. It was all coming together so beautifully. So many renovations had been done on this lovely place. It had been stunning before, but now it was simply incredible. They had updated it without losing an ounce of its historic charm. A feeling of pride washed over her as she imagined guests arriving to stay at the historic resort. Savannah House in all its glory! And she felt so fortunate to be associated with this wonderful, historic place. She was one of the co-owners! That knowledge made her feel as if she could soar like a high-flying kite.
She turned her head toward the majestic view of the ocean. Fancy closed her eyes and breathed in the tangy scent of the sea. As always, the ocean calmed and centered her. In warmer months, guests would be flocking toward the sandy beach and the cool comfort of the water. Savannah House sat perched on one of the loveliest properties on Tybee Island. On some days it truly did seem as if you could see forever as you gazed across the miles and miles of ocean.
“Thank you, Miss Hattie. For giving me something that I can feel proud of. For believing that I was worthy of this amazing place.” She uttered the words in remembrance of Hattie Alexander, the woman who had bequeathed Savannah House to Fancy and her five closest friends—Olivia Renault Rawlings, Callie Duvall Holden, Morgan Lucas, Charlotte Duvall and Hope Matthews.
The historic inn had been built by Miss Hattie’s father, Tuck Alexander, back in 1915. Tuck had risen from poverty to millionaire status. He’d reached the highest echelons of the business world through pure grit and determination. Tuck had fallen in love with Miss Hattie’s mother, Patricia Smith, at first sight. Since Patricia hailed from Savannah, it didn’t take Tuck long to move to her hometown, court the woman of his dreams, then marry her. As a tribute to the love of his life, Tuck built Savannah House—a magnificent symbol of his achievements. Wanting others to experience life on Tybee Island and all of its splendor, Patricia and Tuck turned their estate into a luxurious bed and breakfast. Savannah House became a top resort, with people traveling from all over the country to experience the lush life.
At present, months and months of hard work was coming to a close. The resort would be opening in little more than a month, and they already had a full house of guests booked for the launch.
Fancy almost felt like doing cartwheels. But there was one huge thing that was holding her back. Her joy felt contained because of it. It was causing her legs to tremble underneath her.
Case was inside. With every step she took toward the house, her heart seemed to thunder louder and louder inside her chest. Case Duvall. Her ex-fiancé. The man who had ripped her heart out of her chest and eaten it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The girls—Callie, Morgan, Olivia, Hope and Charlotte—had asked her prior to involving him on the project if she had any objections.
YES! Of course I do. She’d wanted desperately to scream those words at her friends. But she had remained stoic. As cool as a cucumber. She’d put her bravest mask on and pretended that it wouldn’t rip her apart to work with Case on Savannah House business. He was one of the best attorneys in Savannah, after all. And due to his being Charlotte’s big brother and Callie’s cousin, it made all the sense in the world to retain his services.
Tell that to your aching heart, a little voice buzzed in her ear.
This would be the first time she would be in a confined area with him. She’d had a few near brushes over the past few months. At Callie’s wedding Case had been one of the groomsmen, but things had been so carefully orchestrated that they hadn’t even uttered more than pleasantries to one another. That single fact had nearly killed her. If she hadn’t made such a colossal mess of things, Case Duvall would be her husband at this very moment. And her heart wouldn’t be beating like a drum right now.
Lord, please let me get through this moment with grace and courage. Don’t let me falter. Give me the strength that I sorely lack. Don’t let me make a fool of myself in front of Case. I still care so deeply about what he thinks of me.
At least she looked attractive. Beautiful, most would say. But lately—and for the first time in her life—she didn’t feel attractive. She felt ugly. For a woman who had always been gushed over for her beauty, it was an unfamiliar feeling.
