Snapshot (Lessons in Love Book 2)

Present Day

Miami

Iforce myself to inhale for four seconds, then exhale for six. I don’t allow myself to breathe in short heaves. My panic attacks always start with hyperventilating. Once I lose my breath, I lose control.

I count the small marble tiles beneath my feet. Cool tile. Good idea. I step out of my black dress loafers and yank off my socks, pressing my bare feet against the cold floor. Glancing down, I roll my eyes when I see the brand name imprinted in gold scrawl on the heel of my shoe soles. Christian Louboutin gracing us with his designer presence at my grandmother’s funeral.

I didn’t pick my outfit today. I never do when I’m back home. My clothes, shoes, and matching watch are always conveniently messengered over to wherever I’m getting dressed.

Believe it or not, some reporter or another will likely comment on my shoes. These are too fancy. Louboutin loafers retail for well over a grand. No doubt someone will accuse me of squandering away Grandma’s fortune on frivolous things before she’s even cold in her grave. Then again, had I shown up in Magnannis, they wouldn’t be fancy enough. The flip side of the coin is that I’m a disrespectful slob of an heir and just glad to be rid of Grandma so I can piss away her wealth.

Basically, damned if I do, damned if I don’t. And this is why when I’m home in Miami, amongst the judgmental social elitists, I let other people dress me.

Fuck, do I hate it here.

I hear Grandma’s voice in my head. Just breathe, baby. Your feet have to stay here, but your mind can go wherever you want. Where do you want to go, sweet boy?

My answer was always the same… The ocean. My other home. Far, far away from all the things I despise about being Dex Malcolm Hessler.

But I don’t want to think about the ocean right now. I’m still clouded with guilt. When Grandma died, I was on a liveaboard at Socorro Island in Mexico without any cell service. November is prime season for whale sharks. All I could focus on was my dive students getting their money’s worth out of their trip. The travel, equipment, and accommodations were so expensive, and I knew it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience for most of my students. They waited so long for a spotting. I gave myself a headache obsessing, trying to will it into existence. Just one whale shark.

We didn’t see a damn one.

When we got back to San Jose Del Cabo, I learned my grandma had died alone in her sleep.

She called me the night she passed and left a bizarre message that will live in my head for the rest of my life. Her words were slurred, and she spoke like a broken record. Over and over, she kept telling me that there’s a reason she did what she did. That she trusts me, and I need to make the choice with my heart, not my head. Grandma kept saying not to make the mistake she did, because if she could just go back, she would’ve chosen daisies.

But what choice? And what does she mean by choosing daisies?

I have so many questions, and there’s still a lot to sort out with the lawyers.

Fuck.

My heart starts to race as I picture a bunch of suits, foaming at the mouth, wondering to whom Grandma left what. Of course, it’s assumed everything will go to me—her wealth, her company. I’m her only living relative. But there’s always the chance of some sort of legal foul play. A loophole. Any excuse for the board to rip my family’s hard-earned legacy to shreds and sell it off in pieces.

Goddammit. I should’ve been there at the meetings. I should’ve been there every time she signed a piece of paper. To protect her. She was tired. It was my job to help bear the load. But all I could think about was my freedom while I had it. Before I had to put the monkey suit on permanently and accept my fate.

The guilt washes over me like an insurmountable wave, and I forget to breathe slowly. I’m sucking in short heaves now, and the room starts spinning. The bathroom goes from too hot to too cold, back and forth, making me nauseous. I can’t see the ocean… I can’t see anything.

And now my panic attack is full-blown.

I clutch my chest as the sweat beads on my forehead. I’ve never had a heart attack, but this has to be what it feels like. My heart toggles from rapid pounding to stunned into stillness. Unable to find a set rhythm no matter how much I try to focus. I can’t…

I can’t…

I can’t fucking breathe.

By the time the door opens, I’m slumped on the ground, my hot cheek resting against the cool tile as I feebly gasp for air.

“Jesus, Dex,” Denny squalls. “Oh my God. I’m here. I have them.” She rattles a bottle of prescription pills before slamming them on the granite countertop. Hiking up her skirt so she has room to maneuver, she falls to her knees next to me. She grabs my cheeks in both of her soft hands, which feel like relief against my burning skin. “Look at me. You’re fine. I’m right here. Just breathe. You are in control.”

“Count,” I muster out. “Count for me.”

“One…two…three…four.” Her voice sounds distant, but I hold my breath until I hear her next instructions. “That’s good, Dex. Now, let it out. Six…five…four…three…two…one.”

Denny counts up to four, then down from six at least ten more times until she’s sure I can sit upright.

“Oh, honey. This is why you can’t travel without your medication,” Denny lectures. She swipes a hand towel from a woven basket and wets it under the faucet. Then, she proceeds to dab along my hairline. Sweet relief. It’s a very soft towel. Actually, now that I’m calm enough to notice, this bathroom is oddly lavish for a funeral home.

I point to the transparent orange bottle at the edge of the counter. “Apparently, I didn’t leave them. You found them.”

“No,” she says, rising to her feet. “These are backups from your last visit home.”

I shouldn’t be surprised she’s prepared. Denny, my nickname for Denise, has been with our family since before I was born. She was a childhood friend of Mom’s. Even when Mom left home for a while, Denny lived at the Hessler estate. I never knew what kind of family Denny came from, I just know she preferred to be part of ours.

And when Mom passed away, she and Grandma grew very close. They bonded over the grief of losing Mom and the agitation with Grandpa’s absence. He chose to cope with Mom’s death by doubling down on the whiskey while leaving Grandma to run the Hessler empire. I was only seven. There wasn’t anything I could do to help. Denny became a sounding board, the one to hold Grandma’s hand on the bad days. Eventually, she took over as Grandma’s personal assistant and our household manager—there isn’t much she doesn’t do for us, including event planning, managing the staff, and making travel arrangements. But more realistically, I think Grandma always saw her as more of a second daughter of sorts.

Not me. I love Denny as a friend. But I only have one mother. She’s gone. Grandpa’s gone. Grandma’s gone. Now, everyone I belong to…is gone.

“Backup?” I finally ask. “Which medication?” I’ve switched a few times over the past few years. They all eventually lose their efficacy.

“The same you’re taking now, but only ten milligrams. What’s your current dosage?”

I close my eyes and breathe out with a heavy sigh. “Sixty.”

“Jesus,” she mutters. “I didn’t know they could prescribe that high of a dosage.” She shakes the pills into her palm then deposits them into my outstretched hand. “Do you have water here? There are cold bottles in the lounge area. I can grab one.”

“No need,” I say before swallowing the pills dry. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t know it was still getting worse. When was the last time you had a panic attack?”

“Not since the Hessler executive holiday party last year, when I had to give the welcome speech.”

“They’re only happening when you’re here in Miami?”

It’s not that surprising. Miami used to feel like home. Once I got a taste of freedom and happiness in Las Vegas, home started feeling like a cage. Every time I came back, it was an unpleasant reminder of where my destiny would take me. And what do you expect right before you cage a bird? It panics.

“I guess.”

She holds out her hands for mine to help me get up. When I notice her bright red polish, I smile at her. “You hate red nail polish. Almost as much as you hate animal print shoes.”

Denny’s blond hair is twisted neatly at the nape of her neck. Her earrings are modest—pearl studs. The black dress she’s wearing is sleek and flattering but not promiscuous. Just classy. Her shoes are the perfect height. An elegant three inches. Everything about her ensemble is strategically subtle…except her bright nails.

She shrugs one shoulder. “She loved red.”

“I know,” I say.

Denny examines her nails, her eyes drooping with sadness. “She bought me a huge gift card at our favorite spa for my birthday. I never got a chance to use it because we always had a once-a-month ‘official business meeting,’ which was actually just her treating me to a massage, mani, pedi, and body wrap.” She inhales deeply and releases a heavy breath. “I went early this week. When they told me to pick a color for my nails, I asked for the Dottie special.”

“I get it. You wanted to feel close to her.”

She nods emphatically. “Exactly. I don’t know what I’m going to do without her. Dottie was my whole life.” She touches my cheek. “It’s just us now.”

After everything she’s done for us, it’s selfish, but looking into her light eyes right now, I know I’d trade her in a heartbeat for Mom or Grandma.

It’s just not the same…

She’s not my family.

But maybe I should pull my head out of my ass because she’s all I have left.

“Thank you, Denny. I’m glad you’re here.” I force a genuine smile.

We’re both lost in our thoughts for a moment until Denny lets out a sharp exhale and clasps her hands together, signaling “Let’s go.” She straightens her already pristine dress then rubs her hands together like she’s warming them. She’s fidgety and anxious today. I know she’s hurting, too.

“Are you ready?” she asks.

I take in a testing deep breath, ensuring my lungs are fully functioning again. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“I have your speech.” Denny brushes off my shoulders before fetching my suit jacket, hanging behind the bathroom door. After helping me slip on the stiff jacket, she pulls out a folded piece of paper from the hidden pockets in her dress. Wiggling it between two fingers, she says, “Just in case.” Then she slips my printed-out eulogy into the inside pocket of my coat.

We rehearsed the speech a dozen times. I can easily recite it by memory. My issue isn’t public speaking or making the tough decisions as a boss. My MBA taught me how to understand corporate finances, evaluate the efficacy of partnerships, and know the difference between the incubation, growth, and eventual decline of initiatives. I know numbers. In that aspect, I’m fully prepared to become the CEO of the Hessler Group. It’s people that are a struggle. I’m not always good at reading people.

Denny still looks at me skeptically. Her gaze darts from the pills on the counter back to my eyes. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“Even if I wasn’t, who else could speak today?” Everyone’s gone. It’s all on me now.

“I’m just asking, Dex.” She twists her lips, and her big blue eyes shift down. “The last thing I want is for you to collapse in front of all those people.”

I exhale. “I’ll be fine. But I don’t think I want to read the speech.”

It’s a fine eulogy. We covered Grandma’s most prominent accomplishments, making sure to mention how she was a pioneer in an industry dominated by men. We go into great detail about her accolades as a CEO, commanding a billion-dollar company yet still finding a way to raise her orphaned grandson. I think the exact words are: Dottie Hessler was both a widower and a mother who lost her only child. But grief didn’t deter her, and she miraculously found a way to raise her grandson while securing her spot amongst Forbes top 100 richest people in the world. She was a pioneer for women in business.

It’s not that it isn’t true. It’s just shallow.

“What do you want to say?”

“I know most of the company is out there today, but it just seems like such a shame to talk about work. Grandma was so much more than that. I remember this one time when I was eight; I called her and told her the nanny was hurting me. She was on a phone conference with the CEO of Royal Bahamas, Hessler’s biggest competitor at the time. They were discussing a huge merger, but right in the middle, she put his ass on hold for twenty-two minutes. She came home, fired the nanny on the spot, then brought me back to the office with her.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Dottie,” she says with a half-hearted chuckle.

“Grandma kicked off her shoes and sat on the ground with me. She handed me crayons one by one and doodled with me while she finished her meeting on speaker. She ended up acquiring two Royal Bahamas ships that day.”

I didn’t understand the logistics until much later, but Royal Bahamas thought they got away with a slimy business deal. Of course, Grandma was two steps ahead. She stripped both ships to the studs, rebuilt and rebranded. Today, they are two of the most lucrative ships in the Hessler fleet. In fact, the revenue from those two ships is what knocked Royal Bahamas down a few pegs. We no longer consider them competition.

“Dottie was such a badass,” Denny says. “She could do it all. I will forever be in awe of that woman.”

I nod along. “Same.”

“What did your nanny do to you, by the way?”

“Oh, right. See, that’s the funny part. When Grandma finally got off the call and asked me what the nanny did to hurt me, I told her the truth.”

“Which was?”

A chuckle breaks through my lips. “She wouldn’t let me win during a game of Candy Land. The nanny wouldn’t let me lie or cheat. She was trying to instill some morals into an eight-year-old, I think. Anyway, I meant she hurt my feelings. Grandma had to call the nanny back, apologize, rehire her, and then triple her salary.”

“Oh, I bet she wanted to tear your little butt up,” Denny says.

I shrug. “I’m sure, but she didn’t. In fact, I distinctly remember going for ice cream that day. A sundae as big as my head with extra whipped cream.”

“That’s a sweet story.” But I see the look in her eyes, like she’s confused as to why I’m telling her this today.

I continue to clarify. “Grandma could’ve had the backup nanny pick me up so she could stay focused on her call. We had cameras all around the estate. She could’ve asked her security team to look into what was going on. There were always options, but she dropped what she was doing every time I needed her. I was the most important person in the world to her.”

Denny’s eyes drop to her shoes as she presses her lips together. “You really were,” she mutters.

My voice breaks as I continue, “Do you know how hard it is to be that disgustingly rich and powerful, with so much responsibility on your shoulders, and still make time to bake chocolate chip cookies with your grandson every other day? I was raised amongst rich, arrogant, asshole elitists who think money makes them superior to everyone. They are so out of touch with what matters. Grandma had more than all of them combined, yet her soul was still pure. She started good, and she stayed good. Money never turned her into something else. That’s what I’m in awe of.”

Denny smiles at me and straightens my tie before smoothing it down over my chest. “Take out the arrogant, asshole elitist part, and then tell that story. That’s a good speech.” She reaches into my inside coat pocket and pulls out the folded speech. “She started good and stayed good. I think that’s all people need to know about Dottie Hessler. She was a good one.”

“Yeah, she was.”

She ducks her head and finds my gaze before showing me a small, hesitant smile. “Are you ready now? Where’s Leah?” Denny asks, looking around the bathroom as if I was hiding my ex-girlfriend the entire time.

“We broke up.”

Denny’s eyes grow into saucers. “Who broke up with whom?” she asks slowly. Her eyelids are twitching, like she’s trying to resist the urge to roll them.

“You’re going to question me about this the day of my grandmother’s funeral?”

“The best way to get out of a scandal is⁠—”

“To get ahead of it,” I grumble. “I know, Denny. I know. But this isn’t a scandal. Just two people who are no longer dating. Our breakup was amicable. Nothing dramatic.”

She lifts one eyebrow as she presses her lips into a flat line. “I wonder if she’d say the same. We need to reach out to PR to make a statement.”

“No, we don’t.”

In Vegas, I’m a normal guy. I don’t spend a lot of money there. My house is nice, but it definitely doesn’t say billionaire. I don’t buy flashy things. My dive shop was almost bankrupt until my consultant, Avery, swooped in and saved us with proper marketing. Overall, things have been calm, and I’ve been flying under the radar easily.

Leah is still unaware of who I really am. None of my friends in Vegas know I’m the sole heir of one of the wealthiest families in the world. Hessler Group owns three major cruise companies. Luxe Adventure, Serenity, and Victorian. While the cruise names may be common knowledge, people rarely look up the owners behind them.

“I hate to say this, but your relationships affect everybody. Over a hundred thousand jobs are now dependent on you. We have to be wary of any women who might have a vendetta against you. What happened with you and Leah? Please tell me she broke up with you.”

I grumble. “She stole something. It bothered me.”

“She stole something?”

“A Birkin bag.”

Denny’s jaw drops. “A Birkin bag? The cheapest one they make is ten grand. That’s a felony, Dex. How in the world did she get away with that?”

I hold up my hand. “Let me clarify. She stole the bag from her dad.”Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

She squints one eye. “Leah’s dad had a Birkin bag?” Denny jostles her head like she’s trying to shake her thoughts into a reasonable explanation. “How come the more you clarify, the more confused I get?”

I really don’t want to talk about this today, but it’s unwise to keep secrets from Denny. She can’t protect me if she doesn’t know what’s going on. So, I let out an exasperated sigh and explain. “Leah’s dad is a veteran. He has a TBI from a deployment that’s caused a lot of suffering. He’s a very kind man, but I can tell his mind isn’t all there. Therefore, Leah handles her parents’ finances. Between VA pay, social security, and money he saved up during his career, he had a nice chunk of change in the bank. That money was supposed to pay off their house and vehicles and take care of bills. Leah’s been slowly draining that account to buy stuff without them knowing. She was eyeing that Birkin bag for months. No way she could afford it on her own.”

I actually bought it for her. The dive shop isn’t particularly lucrative, and I’d been hiding my true wealth. I was going to make up some excuse about my long-term savings to explain why I could so easily buy a fifteen-thousand-dollar purse. But the day I intended to give it to her, she showed up at my place with the exact same bag. When I asked her where she got the money, she simply said her parents weren’t using it.

I tried, but I couldn’t look past it. It reminded me of the friends I grew up around and what I was trying to escape. Name brand this, name brand that. What you’re wearing or driving defines your worth.

Leah’s dad could’ve used a new sitting chair. Their house needed repairs. Leah’s mom had a bad back and weak knees, and it was hard for her to keep up with the house. I suggested a cleaning service once a week so she didn’t have to bear the burden alone. But instead, Leah drained their account for a purse.

I returned the bag I bought for her and ordered a cleaning service for her parents for an entire year. I had the vendor tell them they won a sweepstakes. Then, I ended things with Leah. She wasn’t happy, but I’d hardly call her the vengeful type. It’s been six months. I’m sure she doesn’t even think of me anymore.

“Did you tell Dottie?”

“Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “I told Grandma everything.”

“Funny, you’d think she would’ve mentioned it to me,” Denny mutters. “Okay, well…” She holds out her left hand, her large diamond catching a glint of the overhead lighting. She’s been divorced for nearly two decades. Her ex is remarried, yet she still wears it. “I’ll be right in the front row. If you start feeling any type of way, just give the signal and I will take over, okay?”

I nod. “Okay.”

“Dex?” Denny rakes over my hair, making a makeshift comb with her fingers. It’s the same way she’s been fussing over me since I was a little boy. “I’m glad you’re home. It’s time to take your throne, and I’ll be right here beside you. If no one else, you have me. You’re not alone. You can trust me.”

Throne? So dramatic. But she’s not wrong. There’s a lot of responsibility on a man whose total net worth is now a little north of eighteen billion dollars. It’s not just my duty to my company but to the economy. Every decision I make from here on out isn’t simply about business. It has to be strategic. A declaration of who I am and what I align with. When it comes to money like this, life is a giant game of chess. One you’ll never win. Grandma bore the burden for far too long, and now it’s my turn. I have a game to play, even if all I want is to disappear into the ocean.

I grab Denny’s free hand, squeezing the tip of her fingertips and rubbing my thumb over the bright red polish. The same shade Grandma would always wear. “Thank God you’re here, Denny.”

She smiles. “Come on,” she says, nodding to the door. “Let’s go say goodbye.”