Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
RORY
I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to being alone. After ten years of near-constant pleas from my daughters for my attention, suddenly having it gone— poof —was jarring, to say the least.
It’d been four months since I’d moved out of the house I’d shared with Sean, but the days and nights Ava and Ella were with their father hadn’t gotten any easier. To go from being with them every day…tucking them in every night…to only seeing them Wednesdays, Thursdays, and every other weekend was upsetting. And painful.
Thank heaven for my sisters.
Just a year ago, I’d never dreamed of uttering those words. Me and my sisters had never been particularly close or seen eye to eye. Will and Mac had always been tight, their small age gap ensuring that, whereas Nat and I had been the outliers. Nat with her wild ways, and me with my…perfection.
Perfection didn’t afford me a lot of friends.
Turned out I had exceptionally high standards and expected a lot out of people. Probably more than I should. It was something I was working on. Along with a laundry list of items I needed to forget about, which was where the margarita in my hand came into play.
Will, Mac, and I were settled in Mac’s living room, the only safe space between the three of us. If we went to Will’s place, we’d have to deal with Finn buzzing around like a fly, constantly attempting to steal kisses and make sex eyes at Will. And my house? It was still a work in progress—one I desperately needed to get away from once in a while just to save my sanity. And despite having my sisters there to fill up the void left by my daughters being gone, it still didn’t feel like a home when they were away.
“What are we drinkin’ to forget tonight, bitches?” Mac asked, settling in an overstuffed chair.
Will raised her glass between us. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m drinkin’ to forget the usual. Another meeting with Daddy.” She shook her head, eyes rolling to the ceiling as if to ask God to give her strength. “Just when I think he’s gettin’ better, he goes and does something completely asinine, makin’ me contemplate slippin’ prune juice into his coffee.”
Mac snorted as I shifted in my seat. I was getting used to the trash talk—though I certainly wasn’t going to partake. Openly, anyway.
Growing up under the same roof, we’d all been taught never to question or disobey our daddy’s directives. While, sure, I had done so in my head a million times, I’d never dreamed of speaking them aloud. It was all part of that perfection I strived toward, no matter that my daddy never seemed to notice it.
“What’d he do now?” Mac asked.
“Oh, the usual.” Will blew a breath to the ceiling. “He had a meeting with one of the town councilpeople, and he kept buzzin’ my intercom, demanding I bring ’em coffee, then donuts, then he ordered me to take notes when he knew damn well I had a full schedule today. Never mind that he has not one but two assistants now.” She lifted her chin in my direction. “Daddy doesn’t care. Swear he does it just to rile me up. He knows as soon as the Fourth is over, I dive right into plannin’ the Fall Festival, and it takes up all my time. He just set out to be a royal pain in my ass because I pushed back on his suggestion to restore Great-Grandpappy’s statue outside the courthouse.”
Mac furrowed her brow. “Why would he want to do that? It looks brand-new.”
“Exactly!” Will threw her hand up in a clear display of exasperation. “It’s still pristine, and we could use the money he wants to allocate for that to restore the crumbling gazebo in the Square, or replace the cracked marble in the entrance to town hall, or repave Main Street. There are a dozen other things I could think of to spend that money on instead of making Great-Grandpappy look exactly the same.”
“He’s an overgrown toddler, I swear.” Mac shook her head and sipped her margarita. “I honestly don’t know how you put up with him day in and day out. I’d lose my damn mind.”
She slid her eyes to me then away. Even though I worked with our daddy too, apparently Mac didn’t have a hard time understanding how I was able to put up with his nonsense. Probably being as Mac saw us as two peas in a pod.
Which…hurt.
I hated—absolutely hated —working for my daddy. Will’s recollections over the years of what it was like to work for the man were mild in comparison to reality. Not a day spent at town hall went by without me screaming into my pillow at night. I’d even gone as far as ordering stress balls with the town’s emblem on them just so I could stuff a few in my desk to squeeze, all to keep from wrapping my fingers around Daddy’s neck instead.
But I had to work there. I didn’t have a choice. Bills were piling up more and more every day. I’d already given up my house to my ex—the one I’d designed every nook and cranny of, had poured my heart and soul into for the past eleven years. The one in which both of my girls had lived every single day of their lives. That hurt the most. But it turned out being an attorney paid a hell of a lot more than being a stay-at-home mom. Who knew?
My college degree served me as nothing more than a nice wall decoration. Just a fancy piece of paper encased in a pretty frame.
I’d played the part of the stereotypical sweet Southern wife like I was “supposed” to, popping out babies and then staying at home to take care of them. And though I knew my sisters didn’t understand it, I’d loved doing it. Loved being home with them, watching them grow, and being present for all their firsts.
At least, I had in the beginning.
But for the past couple years, ever since Ella had started kindergarten—which had left my days open and empty—I’d craved something more.
Trouble was, I hadn’t had a fallout plan.
So I was stuck taking the pity job Daddy had given me, never mind the fact that I didn’t have an ounce of work experience. His assistant, Gloria, had drastically cut her hours since giving birth last year, so she and I job-shared. Though, Gloria’s hours seemed to be getting fewer and fewer each month, and mine seemed to grow.
If I wasn’t careful, I’d blink, and it’d be five years in the future and I’d still be stuck at town hall, working for my overbearing ass of a father and letting my dreams of design wilt in the back corners of my mind. Again.
Will hummed, pulling me out of my thoughts. “I’ve gotten used to his shit. Plus, ever since I stood up to him at last year’s baseball game, he doesn’t push me around anymore. Much.”
All three of us snorted at that. Our daddy was about as delicate as a bull in a china shop. The man didn’t know the meaning of the word subtle. He bulldozed anyone and anything that got in his way.
One of the less-appealing characteristics I shared with him.
“Enough about Work Daddy.” Mac leaned forward, her eyes positively gleaming as she addressed Will. “I wanna know what he said when y’all went over there for supper.”
While the Havens had a long-standing tradition of gathering together on Sunday evenings with all of us—me and my girls when I had them, Will, Mac, our parents, and Gran—Momma and Daddy had asked me, the girls, and Mac to skip this week, instead preferring to speak to Willow and Finn. Alone.
Given Finn’s proposal only days before, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what they’d wanted to discuss.
Will’s lips pursed to the side. “It was…cordial.” She shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “Y’all know Momma and Gran have been on my side since everything that came out last year.”
That was a delicate way of referencing the web of lies our daddy had concocted about Finn in an effort to keep him away from Will. But all that’d managed to do was damage our father’s relationship with the women in his life.
“Course, it helped that Finn laid the charm on heavy. Momma and Gran didn’t know what to do with themselves, swoonin’ all over him. Daddy grumbled a whole lot and shot daggers at Finn, but I think he realized, no matter what he did, there wasn’t anything he could do to stop us from gettin’ married.” A giggle burst from her lips—a sure sign she was already a little tipsy. “ Married .”
Yeah, married. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that. I was happy for my sister, of course. I’d be an evil witch if I weren’t, considering the road Will and Finn had traversed just to get to their happily ever after. They’d been through a hell of a lot, and they deserved every ounce of happiness they could capture. I wasn’t so bitter and cynical that I’d deny them that.
But, well…my thoughts on marriage had soured. Just a tad.
“Rory?” Will asked, her voice tentative. “You’re okay with all of this, aren’t you? You’ll be in the wedding and help me plan it all?”
I snapped my attention up to my sister, then glanced over at Mac, who was staring at me with a tiny bit of pity and a whole lot of do not fuck this up for Will thrown in.
I pasted on my practiced smile. “What? Of course! Why wouldn’t I?”
Will shot Mac a look, then settled her eyes back on me. “Just…you know.” She shrugged. “With everything that’s goin’ on between you and Sean.”
I waved my hand as if to dismiss the words in the air before they could land like daggers in my heart. “Don’t you worry about that. It’s completely behind me. Water under the bridge.”
“That so?” Mac studied me, eyes scrutinizing. Will might buy my lies, but Mac wasn’t so easily fooled. A skeptic down to her very bones. “Then there must be some other reason you’re gulpin’ down margaritas like they’re sweet tea.”
Well, hell. Nothing much slipped past Mac, and I was so off my game, I hadn’t expected her astuteness.
Instead of backing down, I offered my pot-stirrer of a sister a smile, then said the first thing that came to mind. “Actually, there is.” I downed the last of my margarita before setting the glass on the coffee table with a loud clink. “Nash came by the house to see me.”
“Oh, really .” Will’s eyes brightened as she leaned forward in her seat, nearly spilling over the cushions in an effort to get closer to the gossip. “What on earth had him traipsin’ all the way over there?”
“He had a proposition for me.”
Mac snorted. “I just bet he did.”
I shot her a glare. “Get your mind outta the gutter. Everything in your world might revolve around clandestine affairs?—”
“‘ Clandestine affairs’ ? What are we, eighty?”
“—but there’s nothing scandalous about his offer.”
“Which is…?” Mac pressed.
I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, even though his suggestion had sat like a boulder in my gut ever since he’d mentioned it. A boulder that had managed to sprout butterflies. “A partnership. My design expertise on his clients’ homes in exchange for him helpin’ me get the house remodeled.”
“Really?” Willow perked up, her eyes going wide and a smile sweeping over her mouth. “Rory, that’s great! I know you’ve been tryin’ to do more designing, and Nash does such amazing work. Between the two of you, your house is gonna be gorgeous when y’all’re?—”
“I haven’t said yes.”
Will and Mac jerked in stunned silence, a little bit of margarita spilling over the side of Will’s glass at her jolt.
“Why the hell not?” Mac was never one to pull punches.
I smoothed back my hair, ensuring it was still perfectly in place, ignoring the ache that had started at the base of my skull from it being up for so long. “Well, I’m just so busy. With the girls not back in school yet and workin’ more hours at town hall, all the while tryin’ to get the house into some semblance of decency.”
“Mhmm.” Mac leaned back in her chair and lifted the margarita to her lips. “Sounds like a whole lotta excuses to me.”
I shot her a blank stare. “They’re not excuses if they’re true.”
Will glanced at Mac, who just shrugged before turning her gaze back to me. “But the time you save at the house by utilizing Nash will free up whatever you need in order to do the design work.”
I blew out a sigh. If I thought my sisters were going to be my voices of reason, I was dead wrong. But I couldn’t very well tell them why going into this partnership with Nash was a bad idea.
It had nothing to do with time and everything to do with me losing my damn mind whenever I was around him. My skin felt too tight when he was in my vicinity, and I had the urge to rip off his shirt and stuff it between his teeth, just so I could look at his glorious chest without the irritation of him running his mouth.
He was too young, too brash, too loud, too easygoing. Too everything .
“I don’t see what the problem is,” Mac said, her tone deceptively bland. “It’s just a business partnership. A damn good one, if you ask me. Not only will you get help with your house, which means it’ll be done faster—by a trained contractor, no less—but you can also add to your design portfolio. Seems like a win-win.” She shrugged as if she didn’t care one way or another what my answer was, but her eyes were sharp and assessing. A challenge. Daring me to spill the real reason I didn’t want to partner with Nash. Mac might not have a clue as to what it was, but she was astute enough to know a bullshitter when she came across one.
But I wasn’t an amateur, and I’d been harboring my secrets for a long damn time. What was one more? “You’re probably right.”
“Yeah?” Mac said. “Why don’t you go on and let him know you accept his offer, then.” She smiled like the cat who ate the canary, so sure I wouldn’t go through with it when pushed.
But I wasn’t going to back down. I never backed down.
My life had already fallen apart. I’d lost my perfect home, my perfect family, my perfect life. I’d be damned if I allowed my sisters to think I’d lost my self-control as well.
I plucked my phone from my purse and typed out a quick text to Nash.
Rory:
Your offer still stand?
Before I could even drop it back into its pocket, it buzzed in my hand.
Nash:
Be there tomorrow morning at 8, princess.
Heaven help me, but this was going to be nothing but trouble.