Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Autumn
I was curled up on the couch with my throw blanket over me. My Friday nights since Gideon had left consisted of my cat and a crime show. I’d started with a rom-com and had immediately backed out at the first smitten smile from the hero to the heroine. I couldn’t do it. Give me a stern British detective and a murder.
If the setting was overseas, I wouldn’t have to risk characters visiting Las Vegas.
I stuffed my spoon into my ice cream. I was hitting the hard stuff tonight. I doubt I’d be able to touch a Bloody Mary or eat an olive for weeks. Months probably.
Years?
Nah, that was too pathetic.
Yet, if I never drank another Bloody Mary or had one more blue-cheese-stuffed olive, I’d be fine.
My doorbell rang. I frowned at the picture window. Dangerous hope rose in my chest. Had Gideon returned? Had he bought a car and made the drive to Bourbon Canyon to declare his love for me?
Right.
“Quit crying in your drink and open up!” a woman shouted from the other side.
Junie?
I nudged Sprinkles off my lap. She grunted and stretched. I rose and went to peer out the spy hole.
My sister was on the other side, her face tucked into her collar. She was shifting her feet back and forth to stay warm.
I swung the door open. “Have you lost your cold blood?”
She rolled her eyes and pushed past me on a wave of peony-smelling lotion. “I put on a sweater when I played in Phoenix last week.” She toed her fluffy boots off. They’d get wrecked in five seconds on the ranch. “It was almost seventy degrees. I was so ashamed.”
“You’ve been away from home too long.”
Regret flashed in her eyes, but I pulled her in for a hug. She tossed her arms around me and fiercely returned the embrace.
“I didn’t mean anything by that,” I explained into her cloud of dirty-blond hair with purple stripes. “I’m happy for you.”
She pulled back and flashed me her camera-ready smile. “Aww, thank you.”
I kept my hold on her shoulders. I was her sister. She never gave her family that smile. That smile was fake. “What’s wrong?”
She sagged in my hold. “I’m not here about me.”
“If you’re here about me, there’s nothing to tell.”
Her gaze landed on the half-eaten tub of ice cream. I had skipped the pints and gone for the half-gallon container of cookies and cream. The last two weeks of setting the stage at work had been exhausting. Yeah, Gideon went back to work. Silver could only do without him for so long. But, you know, it’s fine. I love teaching, and maybe he can work out a remote-work arrangement.
Each word had widened the crater his absence made in my heart.
“It’s treat night.”
She stepped far enough into the living room to look at the TV and winced. “It’s British-crime-drama bad?”
“I love British crime dramas.”
“When you’ve been through a breakup.”
I choked on a sob. “We didn’t break up.” Tears welled in my eyes. The last two weeks had felt very much like a breakup. “We had a deal. He was always going to leave. I just...”
Her mouth dropped open and she blinked. It wasn’t often Junie was struck silent. “Oh no. The marriage was fake?”
I nodded. A tear rolled down my cheek.
“And you fell for him anyway.”
“So hard.”
She hooked my elbow and dragged me to the couch. I took the corner I’d vacated when she’d arrived. My spot was still warm. She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a spoon and a carton of mint chip.
“I thought you were dairy-free and didn’t eat after nine at night?” I’d read the article on her in a magazine. Then I’d laughed with Summer because she used to catch Junie in the closet with crackers and cheese at midnight when she was stressed—like during finals, before prom, and in the months before she’d decided to pursue her singing career.
She plopped on the other end of the couch and tucked her feet under the blanket. As if sensing there were two warm bodies available, Sprinkles strutted back into the room.
“That was for the magazine. And for the record, I said milk made my eczema worse. I never said anything about ice cream or cheese. Besides, ice cream is better than the wine Wynter and I had when she was mopey over Myles.”
None of us drank when we were sad. Mama and Daddy had made us associate spirits with good times and family. Thus, the ice cream. “No eating after nine?”
“It’s five o’clock somewhere.” She took the lid off her carton. “Your heart is broken and the others are worried about you.”
“They are?” Scarlett had hovered at school, but I could’ve rivaled that camera-ready smile of Junie’s. I’d worked Wednesday night and both Summer and Wynter had fluttered around me. I’d put on a good show. There was no reason not to. I didn’t need to see anyone’s pity to know I’d made a mistake when I had thought I could leave the marriage unscathed.
But then, I was still married. Gideon’s lawyer hadn’t sent the divorce papers yet. I still wore my ring. Had he taken his off? Of course he had. He had no reason to inform anyone about me.
More tears popped into my eyes. I stabbed my spoon in my ice cream.
“Scarlett said you talk like you’re reciting lines in a play.”
I wrinkled my nose. The only actors Scarlett saw in plays were the kids during the performances. I did not put on that stilted of a show.
“Wynter said she had to fix five orders behind your back at the bar on Wednesday night.”
“She did not.” At Junie’s direct gaze, I tried to recall the evening. Wynter had been bustling around me and talking to the customers more than usual. I thought it was because I’d told her what the deal between me and Gideon had been and she was avoiding me.
“Summer said you snapped at Tenor.”
I couldn’t deny that one. Tenor was the most sensitive brother and I still felt bad about biting his head off.
He had actually approached me about a new inventory system that would work for the entire distillery. He’d wanted my input from the bar’s standpoint. In my awful mood, I had assumed he’d made his decision already and was placating me.
Then he’d shown me the demo program and the various options he’d researched. I hadn’t apologized yet, but I’d gone through the programs and given him my feedback in less than twenty-four hours.
“I haven’t been a nice person to be around.” Even my students had sensed my dark mood and constantly asked if I was okay. Stuffing my emotions down until the end of the day and pretending everything was all right was exhausting . I stuffed my spoon under a big chunk of cookie. I rolled my eyes to clear my tears away. Don’t cry—again .
“Oh, honey.”
I shook my head, but I couldn’t meet her gaze. “Tell me about that cutie you’re touring with. Is he as single as the tabloids say he is?” Please tell me everything . I couldn’t spend another night crying over a situation that wouldn’t be changing anytime soon.
She smacked her lips, not answering. I was desperate to talk about anything other than how I couldn’t look anywhere in the house and not think of Gideon. Of how I’d been almost late for work this morning because I’d had a crying fit in the garage. My car didn’t smell like Gideon anymore either. Two whole days was all I’d gotten with his scent before it had been gone.
“Well”—she gestured at me with her spoon—“you, of course, can’t tell anyone, but he’s seeing the other singer we’re on tour with, but they haven’t announced it yet.”
I exhaled my relief and sank farther into the cushions. I could get lost in other people’s drama and forget there was none of my own.
Gideon
A month after I’d returned to Las Vegas, I was a grumpy fuck and everyone in the office kept their distance. My assistant rarely messaged or called, and I canceled more meetings than I kept. That was what a month of shitty sleep did to me.
I’d had the meeting with Taya and Harold the day after I’d returned. He’d asked me a few times if everything was okay and referenced my mysterious family emergency, but I hadn’t answered him. Half the time he’d been telling me about his plans, I’d been focused on my left ring finger and how goddamn naked it felt without my ring .
I hadn’t given Harold a definitive answer. I had asked to have until the end of the year. Taya was already a yes.
I swiveled around and stared out the window. My office had almost as much square footage as Autumn’s house, only it was a completely open floor plan. I had all the light I wanted streaming in, but when the sun went down, the rays turned neon.
I’d done nothing but notice how different this city was. It was like when I’d first arrived for college, only the city didn’t seem like the reprieve it had been back then.
Had Dad moved to senior housing? Had he bought new furniture with all the money he’d gotten, or had he hauled the threadbare couch and recliner? Was he making friends instead of watching TV by himself after eating a sandwich?
Worrying about Dad took my mind off Autumn.
How was she doing? Did she miss me? Would she change her mind?
Judging by my quiet phone—no. She was sticking to her decision.
My chest ached. I rubbed the center. I should get some heartburn medicine. This acid would eat my esophagus away if this kept up.
It’s not reflux, jackass.
I scrubbed my hands down my face. No one else was talking to me, but I fought with myself all damn day. I needed to focus on work.
The renovations for the parking garage were a go and we were balls deep in logistics. I was overwhelmed and grateful for it. The work kept me rooted to my office. I didn’t need to see the sophisticated holiday decorations lining the halls and businesses in Silver.
No fucking thank you .
I loosened my tie—the damn thing was strangling me—and opened my email. A new message sat at the top. The sender: Canyon Legal.
My stomach bottomed out. What the fuck was this?
My mouth went dry as I read the email. Autumn had hired a company to track down a copy of the divorce papers I’d had drawn up. All they needed was a signature from each of us and for the court to sign off. Then I’d be single.
Fire flamed across my skin and burned under my collar. She’d told me to and I hadn’t. So she’d done it. She’d made the first move.
She was willing to move on from me. Like everyone else.
Except they didn’t, asshole. Dad tried calling and connecting for years.
And he’d done it before he’d sobered up.
Autumn hadn’t reached out.
You don’t want to be that guy, Gideon.
I’m no closer to knowing the real reason why you don’t want kids than when I first asked.
You only gave me a part of you, and that’s what I can’t stand for.
I hadn’t given her a reason to run after me. All she knew of me was that I lived for myself and no one else.
Percival’s your legacy, Gideon.
No, it wasn’t. I never should’ve had that pressure on my shoulders. The insidious thought had stolen my life. It’d built up my pride until it was my own worst enemy.
Fuck .
There was a knock on the door. Taya poked her head in. “Can I come in?”
“What do you need? ”
She stiffened. I had been keeping my distance because she hadn’t been trying to keep hers.
She snuck in and closed the office door behind her. Leaning against it, she crossed her bare legs in a way that might’ve been meant to entice me.
“This has got to stop, Gideon. You’ve been an ass since you got back.”
I had been. I glanced at the computer screen. The future wasn’t looking so hot either.
“Does this... does this have anything to do with that redhead?”
“My wife.”
“Excuse me?” She blinked her crystal-blue eyes.
“That redhead is my wife. And yes, it all has to do with her.”
Taya huffed. Hurt wiped out the astonishment on her face and an angry flush crawled up her skin. “Oh my god, Gideon. What were you thinking?”
“I’d be very careful how you continue.”
Tension radiated across her face. She shifted her weight from high heel to high heel. “Okay,” she said carefully. “I can read between the lines. You’re here and she doesn’t seem to be. So, I guess there must be trouble in paradise. Maybe you need to ask yourself what she can give you that you don’t already have?”
I didn’t have to ask myself. “Everything.”