Chapter 12 Presley #2
Actually, that’s not true. But not for paternity reasons.
Making our way back to the table, I launch into the story, keeping it high level enough to not make it seem like daytime TV should be my next phone call.
To my surprise—and my absolute relief—Margeaux isn’t judgmental at all.
At least not toward me. She has plenty of questions about how the lawyers handled things.
“Christ on a bike. That’s…that’s special.” Exasperation flows out of her like a waterfall, her whole body slouching as she pops a French fry into her mouth.
I shrug. “You’re telling me. I guess Cody thought that if he just fought me enough, I’d eventually give up.
Proves how well he didn’t know me. To be fair, my own ignorance really thought that putting his name on the birth certificate would be enough.
But nope. So I spent more than a year fighting with him until I finally broke and told him we’d settle it with lawyers.
Another six months to get everything going, and a year of trial dates, etc. ”
“Meanwhile, you’re a single mom and trying to have a career.”
“Yup.” I nod, taking a big bite of salad.
I’m hungrier than I realized, my salad already more than half gone, Margeaux’s dressing recommendation squarely on point.
“We missed our first trial date because Cody claimed he had duty, so he couldn’t show.
Never mind that I had taken the day off work.
Thankfully, the judge wasn’t having it. Scheduled it for the next week and told him on duty or off, she expected Cody to be there.
Cody also tried to delay taking the actual paternity test itself, but our judge gave zero shits and told Cody she would send someone to the precinct to swab his cheek if that’s what it was going to take. ”
“Good for her.”
“Thankfully my bosses were understanding. Still, I couldn’t have done it without my parents.
They were an incredible support, one or both of them flying up to Raleigh for every trial date, or if Otis was sick, or I just needed to be able to catch up on some sleep.
Leaving Conety PR was tough, because I was on track to take over my department in the next few years, but after all that, we needed a fresh start.
To be some place that Cody wasn’t tainting everything.
Plus, my Dad is Otis’s favorite human on this planet, so… ”
I trail off, knowing that while my statement is one hundred percent true, there is now an asterisk on it. Like the sports records where the player was juicing.
Jace might be a close second…if not about to pass him…
I keep that part to myself though. Partially because it has no place in this conversation. Partially because I do not want to admit it out loud. I hate admitting it in my head as it is.
“Awww, I love that. My grandfather is also my favorite person—other than my husband—so I fully support that. And I know how excited your dad is to have you two here. He talked about it nonstop this summer. Even had a little countdown going on his phone.”
Wait, what?! That part I didn’t know. Doesn’t surprise me though.
Laughing, I sit back, my insides easing. The noticeable difference in my muscles makes me suddenly very aware that I was holding on to more tension than I realized, waiting on the other shoe to drop somehow. Like Margeaux was here with some secret mission. A spy for the family.
Nope. She’s just that nice.
“Dads…” I lift my shoulder, trying to be nonchalant when really I don’t know how else to respond.
“We are really excited that you joined the team though. And not just because of your dad. Bronwyn showed us some of the companies you worked with while you were at Conety, and seriously, I love some of the stuff you came up with.”
“Thank you. Some of it is luck—having a trend that fits your brand really well or even simply timing in getting a post to go viral. Some of it though is really taking time to make sure you understand your audience and what you’re trying to communicate.”
“I need to introduce you to the girls.”
Errr, come again?
I furrow my brow, not following how my last comment got Margeaux there. Or who the girls are.
“One, I think you’d fit in perfectly, but also, the boys are not always the best at knowing things. I kid you not, Ewan didn’t realize people would buy store-branded merch if it had a dirty, double entendre on it.”
I laugh, having already discovered this. “I love a big mouth on the end of my rod.”
An impish grin appears on Margeaux’s lips, her green eyes turning mischievous. “We keep joking about making a version for us Hayes women that says I like my mouth on a big rod.”
“Do it.”
“We just might.” She chuckles. “But that one was all Maisey. Between her and Brenna, I bet they’ve got all sorts of stuff up their sleeves.”
“Brenna Rawlins? The pharmacist?”
Margeaux nods. “Yup. One doesn’t marry Milo Hayes and not have a witty, sassy sense of humor. She finds him the funniest shirts. She’d be a big help with coming up with stuff for Southern Brothers.”
That’s good to know. Same with Maisey Phillips, Ewan’s girlfriend. I’m going to have to pick their brains.
“Plus, if for some reason one of them isn’t doing what they should, we’re here to help.”
Ha. Too bad the only one who needs wrangling doesn’t have a partner to enlist.
“Southern Brothers should be pretty easy. Both Milo and Brandt were both really into upping their social media presence. Milo seemed ready to do whatever I needed him to. Brandt a little less so, but I don’t think I’ll be igniting World War Three by asking them to do a dance.”
“Probably not.”
Our conversation lulls as both of us take a bite of our food. I spear my fork through the last bite of eggs, silently wishing I’d gone with a heavier option. Now that I have food in me, my body is all in.
I wonder if there is a way to get Greek yogurt and hot Cheetos…
“Can you get a babysitter for Thursday?”
I blink, letting the question register.
“This Thursday?”
“I know it’s kinda last minute, but I really want to introduce you to the rest of the girls. And not because I think you need their help to do your job. But because you deserve a night out with friends.”
Friends. The magic word.
I don’t know if Margeaux can see the desperation dripping off me, she has a sixth sense, or what, but this feels like she is handing me a golden ticket. The one thing I want the most. Something I’ve never had a lot of and certainly didn’t have the last time I lived in Hickory Hills.
“I can ask my parents.”
“Please. And if I need to also pester Otis senior into it, let me know and I’m on it.”
Okay then.
“What’s so special about Thursday?” I ask, curiosity taking over.
“Drafts and Dig In. And Cheese is the food truck of the week and they make the best pimento grilled cheese. It’s to die for. Gus prefers the jalapeno popper one, but he’s wrong. The pimento is better. They also make a killer buffalo chicken mac and cheese if that’s more your speed.”
My mouth waters, right in time with my tummy gurgling, everything she just listed off sounding heavenly. I love a good grilled cheese—basic or otherwise—and already know this menu is going to be impossible to resist.
“Sounds dangerous. Count me in.”