3. Chapter 3
Chapter 3
Anson
N ina laughed out loud when I told her about Nova.
"What's so funny?" I asked, appalled at her reaction.
"You think I didn't know about what happened in Sentinel?" Nina smiled. "I know. I was friends with Emmett."
I quirked an eyebrow. "Emmett Bodine?"
That was the man who had interfered on behalf of Nova, and had her released from jail by calling the Governor, his fucking cousin. My friend Pete, then Deputy Sheriff and now Sheriff, hadn't had a choice but to let her go. In fact, the county Assistant District Attorney had come down with Nova's lawyer to have her released.
"I didn't know yours was the family that accused her." Nina's eyes were not smiling but had become firm. "I think considering this conflict of interest—"
"What conflict?" I leaned back. Like hell, was I going to let Nova play Nina. I loved Valen like a brother. I'd take care of his sister as if she were my own.
"You think she's a thief and want her fired. I believe Nova is one of the most honest people I know."
Nina was a handsome, beautiful woman. I knew she was in her late forties, though she could pass for someone in their thirties with ease. She had the same gray eyes as Valen, and her hair was brown, tied in a ponytail. Her reputation was one of being pragmatic. Savannah Lace was a successful boutique architecture and design firm that preferred to hire women. Nina hadn't gotten this far by being hoodwinked by con artists, but then Nova was better than most.
"What if I got you evidence?" I challenged her.
"You get me evidence that's irrefutable, sure. But I've known Nova for longer than you knew her, Anson, and I can tell you that there isn't a deceitful bone in that girl's body."
I scoffed. "If I'd known you hired her, I'd have been here earlier."
"And I still wouldn't have listened to you. I like to make my own decisions," Nina countered. "Now, you want to talk Larue Homes, or should we agree to disagree, and you find another architecture and design firm to take care of your Sentinel Heights project?"
Larue Homes had had an exclusive contract with an Atlanta architecture firm for years, but once that exclusivity expired, I'd started to look around. Savannah Lace had been popping up as a boutique firm that was on the up and up. After discussing Nina's projects with my team at Larue Homes, I decided to approach Savannah Lace about building a high-end luxury home enclave in Sentinel.
This project was close to my heart—a way to boost the local economy and showcase the beauty of Sentinel, nestled at the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains near the Chattahoochee National Forest.
I had always believed that Sentinel, with its stunning natural landscapes, opportunities for outdoor activities, and serene environment, was suited to be a resort town. We were going to market the enclave as a peaceful retreat from the hustle and bustle of Atlanta (which was 90 minutes away) for those who could afford it.
"Who will run the project from Savannah Lace?" I asked.
Nina arched an eyebrow. "Let's discuss your needs, and then Luna Steele will decide who runs the project. Our lead architects usually act as project managers."
I thought about that for a long moment. "I met Luna. I don't think she likes me much."
"You shouldn't have called Nova a bitch in front of her then," Nina surprised me by saying. She waved her phone at me. "My EA, who is also our receptionist, informed me about your little verbal scuffle with Luna."
I was impressed. Nina obviously generated loyalty, and this was a close-knit company. "Luna said that if I have a problem with Nova, Savannah Lace won't work with me."
"Luna is right."
"I thought you were a businesswoman, Nina," I bit out. How could she not see that Nova was dangerous to her business?
"I am. And I'm also a good judge of character. If we're going to discuss Nova at Savannah Lace each time we meet, as much as it will pain me from a business perspective, we will back away from the Sentinel Heights project."
Nina was no-nonsense. Valen had warned me about that, and the occasions I'd met with her socially had made that clear to me as well.
She'd need evidence against Nova. I'd get her that.
"I want Nova to run the project."
Nina raised her eyebrows. "Nova is an office manager, not an architect." She tapped her fingers on her table and watched me carefully. "But she is a certified project manager and has been picking up project management jobs for us when the architects are busy. But you know what? Sentinel Heights might be just the thing to catapult her career in the right direction."
Or get her behind bars, which was where she deserved to be.
"Will she agree?"
Nina laughed softly. "Whatever torch you've been carrying for Nova, trust me, she's left what your family did to her behind her. She has a full life in Savannah with people who love her."
"I'm not carrying a torch for her," I ground out.
"Really?" Nina quipped. "You see her one time in what…seven-eight years, and you're trying to get her fired. She, on the other hand, probably treated you politely like she would any client. What does that tell you?"
"It tells me that she's a damn good actor."
"Maybe so, but what it tells me is that you still have feelings for Nova, positive or negative," Nina pointed out, and then added, just to piss me off, "She doesn't seem to have given you much thought."
"I was a mark for her, Nina. Women like her don't think about their marks."
"You're wrong about Nova," Nina said confidently. "And I hope that working with her will teach you that. In case you're thinking you'll be alone with her, there will be an architect working with her."
"Not Luna Steele."
"Luna is busy with some other massive jobs. She and I will identify the right architect for your project once we do a debrief." Nina picked up her landline phone and spoke into it. "Rachel, hon, can you ask Nova to come to my office right away? Thanks."
A part of me was excited to see Nova again. I couldn't wait to show all her colleagues, who were fighting for her honor, how lacking she was. Another part of me, my dick, still responded to her like it always had. My Sugar was pin-up-model gorgeous. Not stick thin, but with curves that made you want to run your hands all over them.
Even that first time—hers, not mine—she'd been all that. Fucking sensual, generous, the kind of lover I'd never had before. She'd been a virgin. I didn't doubt that. I knew that for Nova sex wasn't casual, probably because her mother had been a prostitute.
I'd overlooked all that because I'd fallen in love with Nova, bought her innocent act. She'd been all I thought about when I left for Yale, after spending an amazing Christmas break with her. I'd been desperate to have her when I came back. I was five years older than her when we met. She'd been seventeen, and I waited until her eighteenth birthday—made it fucking special for her. We made love, and I knew this was the woman I'd marry.
She went back to her hovel after. I had decided I'd pull her out of there, and take her with me to New Haven, but that's when all hell broke loose.
She'd stolen my grandmother's jewelry. It was my fault. I'd shown the baubles to her—I'd wanted her to see grandma's engagement ring, the one I'd intended to give her.
It was all gone, and it was never found again, except for a couple of pieces that Pete had found in Nova's apartment.
I hadn't wanted to believe it, but the security feed didn't lie. Nova had been in the library where the safe was that afternoon after she left my bed.
When Deputy Sheriff Pete Fontaine searched Nova's place, he found a brooch and a bracelet. Pete was a friend, and the Fontaines were an old Georgia family like the Larues. They'd lost their money, but they were still committed to the well-being of the people. Pete's Daddy was the Sheriff, and now so was Pete, after his father retired.
I hadn't planned to go see her after Pete arrested her. But I couldn't help myself. She'd been asking for me, begging. So, I went. Heartbroken, angry, and feeling like a fucking fool.
Alma, my sister, and Bailey, my ex, had both been compassionate when they didn't have to be. They'd both warned me about Nova, but I'd been so in love with her, so taken by her, that I'd not listened.
I stood outside the cold metal bars of Nova's jail cell, a storm of emotions churning inside me. The sight of her in that dismal place, her eyes wide with fear and defiance, was almost too much to bear. I had come to confront her, to get answers, but now that I was here, my heart ached with a pain I hadn't anticipated.
"Anson," she pleaded, gripping the bars with white-knuckled desperation. "You have to believe me. I didn't steal anything. I'd never do that. Please tell me you know that."
I wanted to believe her. I really did. But the evidence was damning. Pete had found my grandma's brooch and bracelet hidden in her rundown apartment on the wrong side of town—the part of Sentinel where people like Nova were supposed to live on nothing but broken dreams and shattered hopes. It had been my mistake to try to get her out of there, because maybe that's what she deserved.
"Stop lying, Nova," I snapped, my voice colder than I intended. "Do you think I'm a fool?"
Her eyes filled with tears. "How can you think that of me? After last night?"
"Is that what last night was about? You selling your virginity to me?" I demanded, pain roaring inside me. How could she have done this to me? I loved her. I'd have given her anything. She didn't have to steal from my family.
She took a step back, her hand on her heart.
She was in her diner uniform—Pete had arrested her at work. Even in that horrible gray shirt dress, she managed to look beautiful. Even with tears running down her cheeks, she was stunning.
"Did you think stealing that jewelry was payment for your virgin pussy?" I shouted.
She gasped and stared at me like she was seeing a stranger.
Yeah, Sugar, I'm not the man you know anymore. I'm Anson Fucking Larue, and no one fucks with me.
"I'd have given you money if you asked. You were worth it, babe." I knew she hated being called babe. "But stealing my grandma's jewelry? Where is the ring, Nova?"
She shook her head as if she couldn't believe what was happening. Well, she should.
"I never took anything," she whispered.
"You were in the library. I saw the security footage."
She frowned. "I…when?"
"When you left my bed, bitch."
She winced. "I…was lost. That's all. But I left right away."
She'd had to leave because she had a shift at the diner, and I'd let her go on her own. I should've walked her the fuck out. But I was sleepy after a night of fucking awesome sex and…I trusted her.
"The jewelry was found in your apartment. How else do you explain that?"
She held my gaze, unflinching. "I don't know. I swear to you, Anson, I didn't do this."
I clenched my fists, trying to steady the rage that was threatening to overwhelm me. "And why should I believe you? You're no better than your mother. She was a whore, and so are you."
The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. A flicker of hurt crossed Nova's face, and she took a step back, her hands falling away from the bars.
"How dare you," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"Why, Nova?" I asked, my voice breaking. "Why did you do it? If you needed something, anything, you could have just asked. I would've given you the world."
Tears streamed down her face now, but she stood tall, her chin lifted in defiance. "I didn't steal anything from you. I didn't take anything from you, ever. I don't know how to make you believe me, but that's the truth."
Her words hung heavy in the air, and for a moment, doubt crept into my mind. What if she was telling the truth? What if I had condemned the woman I loved without truly understanding the situation?
But the hurt and betrayal I felt were too raw, too immediate. I turned away from her, unable to look at her any longer.
"I hope for your sake, Nova, that you can find a way to prove your innocence to the law. Because as far as I'm concerned, you're fucking damaged goods."
"Anson, please."
"Please, what? Hey, your pussy was good, I'll give you that, but I like my women clean, and you're just a whore's daughter, who cleans toilets in a diner." It was unfair to mock her for honest work. But she wasn't an honest person, so what the fuck did I care!
She closed her eyes then, and I saw the fight leave her. Her shoulders slumped. She'd always been insecure about what she did—that I'd think her dirty, unclean, less.
When she opened her eyes, I felt everything inside me go cold. There was nothing there. She'd shut down. Completely.
"What happens to you from now on is on you. You asked for it. And I hope to hell you suffer."
I walked away, leaving her standing behind the bars, her silence echoing through the dimly lit corridor. My heart was shattered, torn between love and betrayal, and I didn't know if I would ever be able to piece it back together again.