Chapter Eighteen
The insurance paperwork was submitted, and the woman I spoke with on the phone said I should hear something within the week. Until then, it was rotating shifts between me and the vets to ensure someone was always with Ron. The medication he was on seemed to help. He didn’t space out as much, and he was able to answer basic questions. But because the medication was working, he was also getting more irritable with people constantly being in his house. The man was like me in the sense he liked his alone time.
It was hard to be near him. Jack and Fanny chasing each other and me constantly having to separate them helped distract me from conversation. It wasn’t exactly easy having small talk with a man whose words hurt me as much as his fists.
I was at the distillery now, soaking up the quiet. It had been a slow night, so I sent Meadow home. It was me and Jack, just like old times. Not even a minute after having that thought, the door opened. I was about to say we were closed when I realized it was Franc.
“Hey,” I said, grabbing a glass and placing it on the bar. He’d have a few sips and head home to his girl and his kid. Times sure had changed. Before he’d met Quinn, he’d come in here and get sloshed, unable to handle the stress of balancing a demanding job and being a single dad to a kid who set a record for how many nannies he ran off.
He sat down on a stool and accepted the glass. “So, you slept with Char.”
At this point, everyone knew. There was no denying it or hiding it, not that I wanted to. Chardonnay wasn’t some dirty little secret. She was the woman of my dreams.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He took a sip of whiskey and slowly placed his glass down. “I’d tell you don’t hurt her, but I’m more concerned she’ll hurt you.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Are you sure? It’s Char we’re talking about.”
“She stomped on my heart when I was seventeen. There’s not much more damage she can do.”
“Seventeen? What the hell happened then?”
All he knew was one day I went from joking around with Char to taking jabs at her. I was too ashamed to tell him the truth. I’d already felt like a loser for getting kicked out of the old man’s home and needing a place to crash while I figured my shit out. I didn’t need him to know his own sister thought his best friend was nothing more than trash. If he thought that, maybe he wouldn’t have let me stay in the same house as her.
Even now I knew that would never have happened. Franc knew me better than anyone. He still did. We had a mutual respect for each other, and he would have told Chardonnay to get over herself and that she was wrong in her assumption. But I didn’t need him defending me. Not when I had agreed with her.
The door opened, and Laurent, who was fresh from his honeymoon with a tan and a smile, stepped inside. He looked between us, and his eyebrows rose. “What’d I miss?” Jack greeted him, and Laurent bent to give him some ear scratches.
“Brady and Char are fucking.”
“What?” Laurent exclaimed. His eyes widened, lips parted, but he stood there, hand poised above Jack, who was eagerly waiting for him to continue his ear scratches. “Did I step into a portal when I came back into town?” he finally asked, scratching Jack a few more times before straightening. “You two hate each other.”
“We did,” I said.
Franc took a sip of his whiskey and motioned his glass toward me. “Brady was just about to tell us how the whole war with Char started.”
“Pour me a glass,” Laurent said, plopping his ass onto a stool. I grabbed a glass and poured him and myself. Jack joined me behind the bar and flopped at my feet. I grabbed a treat from the jar and tossed it to him.
“We’re ready,” Franc said.
“Turns out it was one fucking misunderstanding.”
“What?” Franc said. “All that animosity over a misunderstanding?” He didn’t sound convinced.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Laurent said.
So I told them about that day in the hallway, and as I told the story, I felt like a total jackass. If I would have confronted Char, asked her why the hell she said that, things could have been different. I couldn’t live in the past, though. It was over.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Laurent said.
“You are both fucking idiots.” Franc took a swig from his glass. “And this all happened the same day Ron kicked you out?”
“Seems fitting that now Ron’s back in my life Chardonnay is, too.”
“Weird how it worked out that way,” Laurent agreed.
Franc held up his glass. “Then I wish you two the best.”
Laurent raised his glass. “Me too.”
“That’s it?” I asked, wondering where the warnings were from Laurent. He was the protective older brother. I was sure he’d have something to say. A threat against my life. A swing at my face. Something. Anything.
Laurent laughed. “She’s your problem now.”