The Inheritance (Happy Endings Resort Book 1)

  The Inheritance

  The Happy Endings Resort

  Series

  Book One

  by Jennifer Benson

  Copyright

  Happy Endings Resort Series © 2015 by Jennifer Benson

  ISBN-

  ISBN-

  Cover design by Kari March at

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  Interior Design by Abby Isabella Bearden at

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  and

  Ada Frost

  https://www.facebook.com/Adafrostauthor

  Edited by Jen at Beyond The Cover Editing

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  All rights reserved.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the authors. Characters and names of real persons who appear in the book are used fictitiously.

  Dedicated to

  My hubby and kiddos - I just can’t thank you enough to putting up with the time I spend writing. Thank you all for the love and support you give me every day!

  Love you so much!

  Chapter One

  “SERIOUSLY?” I SCOOTED further forward to the edge of the hard chair pressing into the backs of my thighs. “You are serious? A trailer park?”

  “Yes, Ms. London, a trailer park. Happy Endings Resort. The resort is also a campground which is open to the public and trailer park with full-time residence, as well as trailer and cabin rentals with a lake. It’s located here right here in Endings, South Carolina. It’s within a mile of the beach and boardwalk. There is even a drive-in movie theater a mile or so in the other direction.” The attorney, Mr. Duke, who called me two weeks ago to tell me that an Aunt Betty, whom I had never met and didn’t even know I had, had passed away at the ripe old age of seventy of natural causes leaving her only living relative everything left in her estate. That would be me. Rory London.

  “I didn’t even know this woman, why . . .”

  “She was your grandmother Goldie’s sister.” He must have seen the confusion in my face. “They had lost touch many, many years ago.”

  I flipped through the pages Mr. Duke had placed in front of me. He had slipped the file across his large oak desk when I first took my seat across from him. I had to admit, the pictures of the place were pretty cool. Kind of like one of those place you’d like to visit, but weren’t sure you would want to live there. The pictures were pretty and all, but . . .

  “As you can see by the photographs in the file, there are over 500 acres. They include thirty trailers, over a hundred campsites, ten cabins, a pool, game room, laundry room, common room, office space and outer buildings used for storage and outside activities. The staff also has separate recreational facilities. There is also the lake for swimming as well as kayaking and paddle boating.” He pointed down at the map. It almost sounded like he was a trying to sell me the place instead of just informing me that I might already own it. I was starting to tune him out. “And of course you would move into the private home that your aunt and uncle lived in, which would be this one here.” He pointed to the top right outer edge of the map.

  “What? House? First you make it sound like you are selling me the place and now you are giving me a house?” I laughed nervously, I thought this is insane.

  “You do understand your aunt’s wishes were that you would live on the property” He looked at me, making sure I was understanding him. “Essentially taking over her house there, as well as ownership of the entire property of the resort. You will need to live on the property to maintain it.” He looked at me over the thick black retro framed glasses.

  “Own? Maintain it? What? I’m not . . .”

  “Ms. London, the requirements of your Aunt Betty’s

  will . . . you do understand them?” he asked, looking up at me and then taking his seat behind his desk and collecting the papers he had spread out before him.

  “I . . . well . . . I . . .”

  “You did read the letter that we sent you?”

  “Yes, I did, but it was just informing me to come to your office today and I would be provided with the . . .”

  “You didn’t get the second letter,” he shook his head and flipped through the file folder. “You drove here?”

  “Yes. I left four days ago.”

  “The letter must have been mailed to you and you missed it.” He moved to his computer, clicked a couple of keys and then handed me a piece of paper.

  “Holy sh . . .”

  “As you can see, you are required to live on the property for a minimum of one year. You must know the property to be able to take full possession of it and maintain it.”

  “Again, with the owning, maintaining the property.”

  “Yes, the campground, trailer park, etc.”

  “I don’t know anything about running a . . .”

  “There is a staff and maintenance crew there who have agreed to stay on as long as you continue to pay them.”He held up his hand as I opened my mouth to object. “If you choose not to accept the property, it will promptly be sold off to the highest bidder, and everyone who lives there will have to move. Everyone who is employed there will be let go.” He rubbed the guilt in very nicely. If I turn down this inheritance, it affects— “You will employ six office staff members, a bookkeeper, an activities director, a boat rental manager and at least a dozen maintenance workers,” he continues, as if reading my thoughts. Again, some live on the property, some don’t, but all would be out of jobs and some out of their homes. Your aunt and uncle have worked hard to keep this land out of developers’ hands for years. They have offered millions upon millions of dollars and they had turned them all down. There is a community there. The developers want to tear it down and build strip malls or condominiums.”

  “Mr. Duke, I have a life. I have a job. I have a home. I have . . .”

  “Ms. London, your Aunt Betty knew about your life, job and home. She had been watching you for quite some time before she made her decision to leave you her entire estate. She . . .”

  “Hold on,” I held up my hand and jumped out of my chair. “Are you telling me that my only living relative knew about me? Investigated me and basically stalked me, but never bothered to contact me directly?” I blew out an exasperated breath. “I’ve been on my own since I was barely eighteen. Constantly struggling to make ends meet. She had all of this land, all of these employment opportunities for others, but not me. She offered no help or assistance to me! Hell, she didn’t even let me know of her existence!” I realized I was shouting as I paced the small office space. “Who does that?”

  “Do you know anything about your father’s family, Ms. London?” Mr. Duke gestured to the chair I had just sprung out of. We eyed each other for a moment before I returned to the hard wooden chair. “Your Aunt Betty and your Grandmother, Goldie, were sisters, but they hated each other with a passion.” He stopped to take a sip of what I could only assume was coffee from the mug to his left. His secretary had offered me coffee when I arrived, but I didn’t drink the stuff.

  “Hated each other with a passion? That’s awful. I would have loved to have had a sister or a brother.”

  “Well, your non-existent sister didn’t steal everything from you. She didn’t try to steal your boyfriend.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that my grandmother and her sister hated each other over a boyfriend?” Memories started flashing through my mind. The flashes went from vague to the normal childhood memories to being moved around a lot. I spent most of my childhood
with my mother. I didn’t know my father. My grandmother would visit every once in a while, but we were never really in one place long enough for me to meet any other family, if there was any. I decided early on that making friends was pointless.

  At some point, I remembered over hearing my grandmother tell my mother that my father had gone away and would not be ever be coming back. Probably died of an overdose with one of his whores. Grandma’s visits became fewer and fewer after that. When I was about twelve, mom said grandma did what all grandparents do—she moved to Florida. She did us a kindness by letting us move into her house so we would have more permanency. She even let me decorate my own room with whatever I wanted. We had been there for about five or six years when mom got sick. We didn’t have much money, so mom hadn’t gone to the doctor until it was too late. Stage four cancer of the lungs. She lasted until I had just turned eighteen.

  Eighteen and completely alone. Grandma sent money for a while, but not much. Most of the money went to my mother’s medical expenses. I thought about college, but had no money. By twenty-two, I had to sell grandma’s house. When I was finally able to, I moved into a small, one-room loft and still continued to work at dead-end jobs. I had no real direction and no real idea of what I wanted to do. As for the life I mentioned earlier, that was nothing to brag about either. I had just recently broken up with another going-nowhere boyfriend.

  “Your grandmother and your Aunt Betty were raised in the same home until your grandmother was sent away to live with a well-off relative after she got pregnant at a young age. Your Aunt Betty was left to care for their parents. Parents who were verbally and mentally abusive to her. While your grandmother thrived, your Aunt Betty struggled. Your grandmother never returned home. All contact was stopped. They never called or wrote or contacted each other. Their parents even tried to reach out to your grandmother, but all mail was returned and all calls went unanswered. I don’t know if you are aware that your grandmother never actually married your grandfather.” He paused, waiting for me to respond at first, but I couldn’t. I knew none of this.

  “I was simply told he had died before I born.” I looked at him, unsure.

  “He hadn’t died until two years ago. He never married your grandmother because he was duped into impregnating her. When he realized he had gotten Goldie pregnant, he regretted it and hightailed it back to his girlfriend, begging her forgiveness.” He looked me straight in the eyes. “Your Aunt Betty was his girlfriend.”

  “He was dating my aunt and got my grandmother pregnant? What the hell kind of family is this?”

  “The sisters were twins.” He continued as if I had said nothing at all. “There was, of course, one good twin and one bad. The good twin stayed home and was abused by their parents and the bad twin seduced her sister’s boyfriend, Bruce, and got pregnant, hoping to convince him she was the good twin and to run away with her. He didn’t leave with her. Once he realized he had been seduced by Goldie, he told her he was never going to be with her. He swore to stay with the woman he loved, Betty. Your Aunt Betty finally forgave him and they moved out here, married, and purchased the land to start their new life together. They were married and lived in the resort until he died of a heart attack eight months ago.” He closed the file folder in front of him and slid it across the desk to me. “They never had any children of their own.”

  “She didn’t even last eight months without him.” I said more in thought then to him.

  “They loved each other very much. She died of heart attack as well. Those who knew her said it was broken heart.”

  “But my father was . . .” Remembering what he had said about my aunt and uncle not having their own children.

  “Your father was never acknowledged by Betty or her husband and barely even your grandmother. Bruce made a child with a woman his wife hated. Goldie never asked for support and honestly didn’t need any. She was quite well off thanks to the relatives she had stayed with. She engaged in many relationships with well-off men and . . .”

  “I’m sorry, well-off men? Are you calling my grandmother a whore? And to my face?” I shot up again.

  “I certainly didn’t use those exact . . .”

  “Oh my God, you are totally calling my grandmother a whore!”

  “Not at all, at least not as far as we could tell.”

  “We?”

  “As I said, your aunt checked you out quite thoroughly before making her decision. Your grandmother never married and did, in fact, surround herself with wealthy gentlemen. Gentlemen who seemed to enjoy giving and purchasing lavishly expensive gifts for Goldie.”

  “My grandmother didn’t have any money when she died.”

  “No, no she didn’t. By the time you went to live in her house, the gentlemen had stopped. One can only have such a lifestyle for so long.”

  “Lifestyle?”

  “I’m sorry I have to be the one to tell you all of this. I had hoped to avoid even telling you, but your grandmother was a very high-end, well-paid madam. The woman you knew as your mother was not your actual mother. Caroline London was a woman who worked for your grandmother who took a liking to you and you to her.”

  “I feel like I’m going to pass out.” He pressed a button on his phone and spoke to someone on the other end, but I couldn’t hear a thing. My head was spinning. The next thing I knew, I was laying on my back looking up at the ceiling of Mr. Duke’s office.

  Chapter Two

  “MS. LONDON?” MR. Duke’s voice called me back from the fog that was now lifting.

  “I’m okay.” I tried to sit up from what I guessed was the small sofa I had noticed earlier. I wondered why an attorney needed a sofa in their office. Now I knew it was for reasons like this when the attorney tells you that your grandmother was a madam and your mother wasn’t your actual mother. Mr. Duke offered me his hand and helped me to a seated position.

  “I’m sorry that I threw all of that at you at once like that. I shouldn’t have.” His voice was apologetic as he took off his thick framed glasses and looked into my eyes, patting my cold cheek with the back of his warm hand.

  When I first entered Mr. Duke’s office, I noticed he appeared somewhat young, no more than thirtyish. He was an attractive man. He had jet black hair and the greenest eyes I’d ever seen. They were like emeralds that someone had just polished to a sparkling shine. Those eyes were now keeping me captive as he placed a small glass in my right hand.

  “I’m sorry that all I can offer you is a bit of rum. I don’t have anything stronger.”

  “Rum will do just fine, thank you,” I chuckled and lifted the glass to my lips.

  “Maybe you should go home and think about all of this. Take a few days.”

  “I lied earlier. I wasn’t really planning on going back. I figured as long as I was out this way, I might as well see what was around.”

  “But you said you didn’t know the details of your heritance.” He scrunched his brows.

  “I didn’t, but I don’t ever go back to the scene of the crime. The life I had back there is back there and I’m here, so even if I was just left a brochette or something, I still wouldn’t be going back. You said it yourself, Aunt Betty had me investigated and I didn’t have much of a life before. Here seems as good as any to start a new one.”

  “That is a good way to look at it.” He smiled when I handed him back the glass. “Another?”

  “No, thank you. I’m good for now. Could you finish telling me the horrors of my family so I can go somewhere and get really drunk, then think about actually being insane enough to think this is all really happening?” I leaned my elbows on my thighs, covered my face with my hands and prepared to hear more terrible things. I started to stand when I felt his hand on my shoulder holding me in place.

  “You wait here. I’ll get you another shot of rum. Or would you prefer a bit of Coke in it?”

  “Oh, a bit of Coke in it would be great. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure. You wait right here.” I watched him move to th
e cabinet across the room to what looked like a cabinet, but was actually a small refrigerator. When he turned around he must have seen the question on my face. “I work a lot of late nights and sometimes I’m not always giving clients the greatest news. Like today. Again, I’m sorry I dumped all of that on you.”

  “Are you related to Betty?” I asked as I accepted the glass from him.

  “No, I’m not related to her,” he chuckled and shook his head, like the idea was crazy. “I got to know her and Bruce pretty well. My father was the attorney for the resort and he drew up their wills. The firm still represents the resort.”

  “You live there?” I thought maybe if he lived there then he would push for me to take it over as soon as possible so he wouldn’t lose his home.

  “I did. I grew up there. It was just my dad and I for a long time. My mother passed away when I was ten, so it was just the two of us. My dad had a cabin there. It’s still there. I pay rent on it like I would a trailer. I usually head out there on the weekends. I spend my summers there.” He shook his head at me, as if to know what I was going to say. “Yeah, I know, I have a perfectly good home now and I still spend my summers there.”

  “You keep answering questions I haven’t asked.” I was thinking maybe I should be nervous about that.

  “You’re kind of easy to read. That and everyone pretty much says the same thing. I get it. It’s just that it was my father’s cabin and we lived there, so it is kind of my home.”

  “I’m sorry about your mother, but at least she was your mother and you had your father. I guess since I was investigated you know that my father . . . was he even my father? Well, he ditched us for who I always assumed was his mistress, but now I don’t know anything.”

  “Like I said, your mother . . .” I whipped my head around to look at him. “Caroline was one of Goldie’s women. She just loved you from the start. She sort of adopted you as her own. Your father, Logan, wasn’t really a good guy.”My head was spinning trying to follow the family tree lines to the center, which was where I was. Feeling completely lost and confused, right there in the center by myself where I had been for so long. “So, was Logan really even my father?”