Page 2 of (Un)Planned

ONE

TWELVE YEARS LATER

The sound of a blaring car horn ripped me out of my dream. My eyes barely had time to open before I slammed into the dashboard of the moving truck, my hands hitting the hard plastic right before the rest of me.

“Oww…” I groaned as I pushed back into my seat, rubbing my probably-bruised skin.

“What the fuck?” Cole screamed from the driver’s side, rolling down the window to continue screaming at the passing cabs.

As my eyes adjusted to the brightness, it took me a minute to get my bearings. Just a moment ago, I was on the pier with my Poppy, replaying a forgotten memory. The next, I was in the middle of downtown Manhattan, the cacophony of traffic and congestion filling the world around me. I might have spent most of my childhood in New York, but after years upstate, the abrupt shift was jarring, to say the least.

“Are you okay?” Alex, my best friend, asked from the middle seat, as she checked me over.

I waved her off. “All good. Just trying to wake myself up.”

“I bet,” she chuckled. “You’ve been snoring since we hit the Thruway.”

That wasn’t surprising. Cole insisted we leave Saint Stephen’s Lake at a ridiculously early hour to get on the road before rush hour began. For the past four hours, the three of us had packed into the cab of a moving truck heading toward my new apartment in the city.

All my belongings were piled into boxes in the back, far fewer than I thought I’d have. Then again, most of my clothes were still hanging in my closet back at the Isadora, my family’s hotel in Saint Stephen’s Lake—the same hotel my mother had kicked me out of almost two months ago because I refused to go along with her plan for my life.

A decision I second-guessed more and more each day.

“This must be it.” Cole shifted the truck into park, and we stared through the windshield, taking in the large building in front of us. For a moment, I thought about telling him to turn around, to take me back to Saint Stephen’s Lake, that this city, no matter how wondrous it could be, would never be my home.

But as my hand reached toward the handle, I knew that wasn’t an option. Even if I wanted to go back, there was nothing waiting for me at the lake but now-painful memories. If I genuinely wanted a fresh start, it needed to be somewhere new, somewhere I wouldn’t always be Diane Winters’ daughter.

Alex nudged my side. “Are you ready?”

I nodded, forcing myself to exhale. “Yup, I think I am.”

As Alex and I climbed out with a couple of bags from the front seat, Cole called out from the driver’s side window. “I’m going to circle the block and findsomewhere to park. Let me know if there’s a back alley or something we can use.”

We nodded before walking inside the lobby bathed in white marble, leather couches lining the floor-to-ceiling, tinted windows. A large chandelier adorned the center of the ceiling, making it appear as if a thousand crystals rained down from the sky. It was gorgeous, a far cry from the rustic charm I was used to.

“Can I help you?” a voice called out from the other side of the lobby. I turned to find an older gentleman smiling softly at me, his brown skin lined with age, but there was still a youthful humor in his expression.

“Oh, sorry!” I moved over to shake his hand. “I’m Calla Winters. I’m staying with my sister, Devyn, in apartment 8B. She was supposed to leave a key for me at the front desk?”

“Ahh,” he sighed, opening a drawer. “The younger Miss Winters. Your sister warned me you were trouble.”

I rolled my eyes. “Devyn’s one to talk.”

“That girl needs to experience some trouble. Works harder than anyone else I know.” He passed me the key across the counter. “Name’s Harold. If you need anything, I’m your man.” He winked at me. “Just don’t tell my wife I said that.”

I chuckled as Alex talked to Harold, asking about a place to park the moving van so Cole wouldn’t be driving around in circles for hours. He offered to lead her to the service entrance as I grabbed the bags and walked toward the elevators.

My fingers shook as I pressed the button for the eighth floor, and the metal doors reflected my uneasy expression.This is a good thing—it’s the fresh start you so desperately needed.

But now that I was here, it felt like the walls were closing in on me. This building reminded me too much of the apartment I’d escaped as soon as I could. All the cold, modern elements made me ache for the familiarity of the Isadora. Most people didn’t understand the appeal of living in a hotel, but to me, it would always be home. My favorite memories took place on the grounds of the resort. While we’d always listed Manhattan as our official address, the moment school let out, my sister and I were bound for my grandfather’s resort, spending every day at his side.

It was where I learned to swim and sail, spending as much time as possible in the water. It was where I had my first kiss and my only true heartbreak. It was where my family, the ones I’d chosen instead of the ones who shared my last name, resided.

Home would always be the Lake.

Maybe New York could be too. The city reminded me of bitter memories, of forced smiles and failed expectations. It might have been where I was born, where I’d grown up, but I’d left the moment I could. Perhaps now was my chance to experience the city on my own terms, to see if this place could help me carve out a future for myself. My best friends were all starting new chapters of their lives. Alex and Cole were getting serious, and Javi and his husband were trying to have a baby. Everyone was moving on, and yet, for the past four years, I’d been stuck. The lake was a haven, a place to hide away from pushing myself to try new things, to break out of my stagnant existence, but here? There was no safety net, no familial business to fall back on. I’d have to carve my own path. And even though it terrified me, it was also sort of exciting.

The elevator dinged, pulling me out of my haze. The doors opened, revealing a pristine, white marble hallway.Doors lined the halls, looking completely ordinary among the luxury of the building—like they knew what was hiding behind them.

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