Chapter 4
4
Tracey sat with her hands clenched in her lap as she waited for the judge to decide how difficult or easy her life was going to become. Her divorce from Bernard should have been easy. The asshole had cheated and gotten another woman pregnant. A classic open-and-shut case of why they no longer needed to be married. Except he’d doubled down on being not just a bad husband but also a bad person. Not only did he want to keep their house so he could have a place to raise his kid—the jerk—but he also claimed that he had a right to claim earnings from The Fresh Place Inn. That’s what made her want to pull a Bernadine from the classic movie Waiting to Exhale and set his car on fire.
Bernard had nothing to do with helping her business. If anything, he’d been a hindrance. First claiming that she didn’t have the time or ability to open a bed and breakfast, and then when she’d figured things out and made it work, claiming her work at the bed and breakfast was part of the reason why he’d cheated in the first place. For him to dare try and say he had any part in it meant the man she’d been married to and loved for eleven years was a stranger. The Bernard she’d fallen in love with wouldn’t do her like this.
Jasmine Evans, her lawyer, reached over and placed a hand on Tracey’s knee. Tracey stopped bouncing her leg. Jasmine gave her a soft pat before balling her fist and giving Tracey a we-got-this fist bump.
Tracey tried to smile, but the churning in her stomach made her grimace. Every time her life seemed to be going well, something happened to set her back.
“After reviewing the information submitted by both parties,” Judge Feaster said, “I’ve decided that the house located at 234 Emory Lane is dual property. It is to be sold and the proceeds split between both parties.”
Tracey sat forward. “What?” She didn’t care about losing the house. She’d moved out and into her bed and breakfast not long after finding out about Bernard’s affair, but if this was how things were starting, did it mean they would have to split everything?
Jasmine placed a hand on her arm. “Wait,” she said in a Please be patient tone.
Tracey swallowed hard and sat back. She glared over at Bernard, but he wasn’t looking her way. Instead, he grinned at the judge as if he’d just granted the first of his three wishes.
“This is some bullshit,” Tracey mumbled under her breath. Jasmine cut her eyes, and Tracey tried to look apologetic.
Ignoring her outburst, the judge continued talking. “As for Mr. Thompson’s claim that he has stake in the bed and breakfast known as The Fresh Place Inn, I see no evidence supporting that claim. The home was sold to Ms. Thompson by Mr. Leon Sullivan. He clearly stated prior to his death that the home was for her use, and her use alone, as long as she saw fit. Ms. Thompson also received the bank loan to start the business on her own, and there is no evidence supporting Mr. Thompson’s claim that he assisted in any way with starting the business.”
“Your honor,” Bernard’s slimy lawyer spoke up. She was sleek and was known as one of the best divorce attorneys in the area. “By virtue of being her husband he supported the business.”
The judge shot her a look over his glasses. “Being married to a person does not automatically mean they support the other’s endeavors. You and I both see that every day in this courtroom. Either way, his claim is denied. Ms. Thompson keeps all interest and money from the running of the inn. All other assets will be split as follows.”
Tracey didn’t even pay attention as the judge went through the remaining division of items she and Bernard had owned together. So what if she got the car and he kept the rental property they’d purchased at a tax sale together? She had her inn! It was hers, free and clear, and Bernard wouldn’t get to lay a single finger on any of the earnings. It was the only good news out of this entire divorce.
After the hearing, Tracey held out her hand to shake Jasmine’s. “Thank you so much. I don’t think I could have gotten through this without you.”
“You would have, but my job is to make it easier. Tracey, I know he hurt you, but don’t let him break you. You’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for. That and half of the people in town are rooting for you. Never forget that he did you wrong.”
Tracey smiled. Damn her eyes for burning. She was not a crier. Crying got you nowhere, but ever since Bernard had busted up her life and proven that she was never going to have the kind of supportive, loving relationship that she’d dreamed of, she understood that people supported her in this messy breakup. The good folks of Peachtree Cove had to take a side. But support didn’t change the fact that most people hadn’t be lieved it when Tracey, daughter of the town whore and drunk, had married Bernard, beloved straight-A student and all-around good guy. They’d always assumed she and Bernard wouldn’t make it, and they’d been right. They just hadn’t bet that Bernard would be the reason and not Tracey.
“Thank you, Jasmine. I appreciate that. And that you fought like hell for me to keep the business. I don’t even care about the house as long as I keep The Fresh Place Inn.”
“You deserve to keep it. All the work you put in. Not only that but being named the best place to stay in Peachtree Cove after we won Best Small Town…that’s the only reason he wanted any part of it, and I wasn’t going to let him take that, too.”
Tracey’s cell phone chimed. She lifted the device and smiled at the text on the screen. It was a group chat with her two best friends, Halle and Imani.
How did it go? Did you get it all?!? Imani asked.
“It’s good to see you smile,” Jasmine said.
“It’s my friends. They’re texting me about how the hearing went.”
Jasmine nodded. “Talk with them. And be sure to celebrate. I’ll give you a call later.”
“I will. Thanks, Jasmine.” She looked back at her phone and texted back.
I got the inn. That’s all that matters.
Hell yes! with a fist emoji came from Halle.
We gotta celebrate! came from Imani.
Tracey’s hand hovered over the screen. She should celebrate. She was happy to be done with Bernard. She did not want him back, but she wasn’t in a celebratory mood. The ending of the marriage she’d shared with her dream man left her feeling a little sad.
Another text popped up before she could reply to her friends.
I’ll do the wedding Saturday.
From Brian along with a picture of the perfect plant to match her color scheme. Tracey grinned, and tears threatened her eyes again. There was at least one man in the world outside of her brother that she could depend on.
“Brian, you always come through,” she said on a shaky laugh.
“Texting your boy again.”
Tracey’s shoulders stiffened. She straightened and turned to face Bernard. “In case you didn’t realize it, the judge literally just broke us up. Why the hell are you over here bothering me?”
She wasn’t even going to address his your boy comment. Bernard had hated on her working with Brian from the start. He’d never liked Brian. He either called him a washed-up pretty boy or accused him of working with Tracey because he was interested in her. Tracey hadn’t believed either accusation. Brian was, and would continue to be, a good-looking man, but he wasn’t interested in Tracey. But knowing working with him irritated Bernard, she’d kept their business arrangement. That, and he was damn good at his job.
Bernard gave her the look of irritation that had been a permanent fixture on his face in the last year of their marriage. He still was handsome, the bastard. Polished and refined, with his wire-framed glasses, golden-brown skin and gym-toned body. She’d once believed she was the luckiest woman to have him not only notice her but want to marry her. She’d known for a while they were ending, but her refusal to be a failure at marriage like her parents had kept her holding on. The look hurt now just like it had every other time, but she would never let him see how much he’d broken her.
“I came to wish you well. Despite everything, I don’t hate you, Tracey.” He held out his hand as if she should shake it. She didn’t take his hand. Hell, he was lucky she didn’t slap it away.
“Funny, I’m not sure I can say the same thing about my feelings toward you.”
He cocked his head to the side. “You don’t hate me.”
She sucked in a breath. He’d given her the look . The look that used to always make her stomach clench and her heart flip. The look he’d given her when she couldn’t believe a guy like him would ever want a loud-mouth, ready-to-fight, wrong-side-of-the-tracks girl like her. The look had won her over then and hundreds of times since. But the look no longer had the same effect. Her heart was encased in steel, surrounded by barbed wire and protected by a moat of molten lava. He’d never get close to it again.
“I don’t love you anymore, Bernard. Go be with your new family.” Her voice hitched on the word family . The thing he’d denied them for so long. Always saying the time wasn’t right to have kids. That they weren’t financially ready or they wouldn’t be able to spend as much time together. Problems he didn’t have when he’d knocked up her former employee.
The smug look on his face melted into one of disappointment. “Hard core to the end, huh.”
“Always,” she replied, lifting her chin.
He scoffed, scratched his chin then nodded. “See you around, Tracey.” He turned, and then she called his name. It was pointless and foolish, but before she could stop herself, the one question she’d never asked bubbled up.
“Why, Bernard? Why did you do this to us?”
He shrugged before pointing to the chamber they’d just left. “In case you forgot, you filed for divorce.”
Tracey rolled her eyes. Yes, she’d filed for divorce, but he’d ruined their marriage. For him to act as if their break was ultimately her fault was the most absurd thing she’d ever heard. “I did file for divorce, but you gave me no choice. Why did you do this to me?”
He hesitated for a second, a hint of the old affection he once felt flashed in his eyes, then they focused on her face and it went away. “You stopped being fun, Tracey.”
She frowned. “What?”
“When we first met, you were fun. You were different. Then we got married, and you wanted to be like some fake married couple on TV.” He shook his head. “That’s not who I married.”
“I’m fun.” But even she didn’t sound convinced. The things that had made her so-called fun back then had been her protection methods. The quick attitude, being ready to defend herself or her family if needed, the I-don’t-care persona so people wouldn’t get close enough to hurt her. Except he’d gotten close. He’d made her think she could feel safe, protected. She’d been neither.
The look he gave her was pitiful. “Sure, Tracey.” He turned and walked away. This time, she didn’t call him back.
***
Although Tracey appreciated her friends’ willingness to celebrate her divorce, she opted to tell them there was an emergency at the inn that she needed to handle, and they’d celebrate that weekend. But there was no emergency. Jessica would have to figure out how to handle the couple of guests they had for a Wednesday night. That, and she’d also scheduled her other desk attendant to work. Dinner was going to be covered by Shirley, and she hadn’t planned any activities or entertainment for the guests because she’d known that on the day of her divorce settlement she’d either be too upset or too busy celebrating to focus on the needs of any guests.
So instead of hanging out with her friends or going to work, Tracey drove to Augusta and checked out a bar that she’d come across on social media. An influencer she liked recommended their drinks, low-key atmosphere and reasonable prices. It was a place she’d longed to visit for over a year. A place she’d once asked Bernard to visit with her, but he’d refused, saying that they didn’t have the time to go to Augusta and hang out at a bar. The words hadn’t made sense then, but now that she knew he was spending his time making a baby with a whole other woman, she understood what he’d really meant.
The bar was just as nice as described on social media. The crowd wasn’t too big, but not as thin as she’d expected on a Wednesday night. Instead of staying inside she opted to check out the rooftop portion. Up there a guy with a guitar crooned out hits from the nineties and two thousands. A few couples and girlfriends mingled either on the couches or at tables set up by the rectangular bar. Four people lined the bar.
She ordered a lemon drop martini and then snatched up an empty table in the back corner of the rooftop. Away from the soloist and other couples, slightly hidden in the shadows. The spot matched her mood. She was better off without Bernard. She wouldn’t take him back if he showed up at her house the next morning with two dozen roses, a hundred pieces of gold and an excuse for bad behavior signed by Jesus. He’d hurt her and done the one thing she’d always asked him not to do.
I’ll never blindside you or make a fool of you, Tracey. We won’t be like your parents.
Except he had blindsided her. Multiple times. He had turned them into a sequel of her parents’ relationship. Not just from the lies or the cheating but by making them a scandal. She’d never again wanted her name to be in the Peachtree Cove rumor mill. He knew how much she hadn’t wanted that, but there she was. Back in the rumor mill and because of him.
Sighing, she took a long sip of her drink. She should have ordered a second. This wasn’t going to be enough to douse the fire of her anger.
The door to the rooftop opened. Another couple came out. Tracey looked away. She wasn’t big on seeing happy couples. But her eyes jerked back then widened. “Brian?” she said. The musician had just stopped his song, and Tracey’s voice carried across the rooftop.
Brian looked up from the woman next to him. He had his arm hooked around her shoulders. He’d been smiling at her. The smile of a man who was confident that he knew where his night was going. His eyes met Tracey’s and widened then narrowed as his brows drew together. He spoke a few words to the woman. She gave Tracey a curious look, but whatever she saw must not have concerned her because she gave Tracey a whatever smile before kissing Brian and going to the bar.
Brian crossed the rooftop to her. “Tracey? What are you doing here?”
“There you go minding my business again,” she said, flipping her braids over her shoulder.
He cocked his head to the side. “You’re the one who called out my name like I’d done something wrong.”
“I did not. I was just surprised to see you.”
“This is my hangout spot. I’ve come here a few times, which is how I know that seeing you here is a surprise.”
She sighed. “I can’t leave Peachtree Cove and check out a place? I’m good. Go back to whatever you were doing.” She turned away and sipped her drink.
Brian sat in the chair opposite of her, concern and curiosity in his eyes as he watched her. She wanted to squirm but settled for shifting slightly in her seat. This man always had an up-close and personal view of her whenever she was at a low point in her life.
“For real, as a friend. You good?”
“We’re friends?” she tossed back.
“Quit playing, Tracey. I just changed my whole weekend around to accommodate your need for bushes at that wedding. I wouldn’t do that if we weren’t.”
“You’re a businessman. You’re doing this because it’s a good business move.”
“I’m doing this because you’re my friend. You were frazzled Monday about covering the wedding, and now you’re up here drinking alone in a dark corner. So I need to know if you’re good.”
“I’m good.”
His eyes narrowed. “Tell me the truth. Not that bravado you put up. Where are Imani and Halle? Why aren’t they here with you?”
“Damn, do I have to have chaperones when I hang out?”
“Tracey?” he said in a Quit playing voice. His patience was growing thin. She could keep pushing him, but she didn’t want to. He was being nice.
Sighing, Tracey took another sip then answered. “My divorce was finalized today. I’m celebrating.” She lifted her glass.
He let out a breath and grinned. “Good.”
“Good?”
“You’re better off without him.”
“I am.” She couldn’t deny that, but that didn’t mean he had to sound satisfied. As if she’d done something great. She was curious to know what he thought, but Brian’s opinion on her relationships shouldn’t matter. Plus, she already knew Brian didn’t care for Bernard.
“Why aren’t you celebrating with Halle and Imani? I heard them planning your I’m Free party at Cyril’s bar, so I know they should be up here with you.”
Tracey shrugged. “They’re in new relationships and happy. I don’t begrudge my friends, but I’m not feeling overly confident in love right now. I just needed some time to process before we properly celebrate later.”
She waited to see if he’d judge her. If he’d say that she was being petty or jealous because she didn’t want to hang with her friends. She was happy for both Halle and Imani. Hell, Imani’s wedding was going to be at her bed and breakfast that fall, but while her friends were at the start of new love they weren’t the crowd she needed as she mourned the loss of her own love. She’d only bring them down.
“I can understand that.”
“You can?”
“Yeah. After my divorce, I didn’t want to hang with my boys who were still in relationships. I just wanted to let go and get back out there. They wanted that for me, too, but they were not the best wingmen.”
Tracey sat up straight and nodded. “Right! Like, I want to talk about how men suck. They can’t do that. They found good men. They’re happy. I’m not in a not-all-men-suck mood.”
The corner of his lips lifted in a small smile. “I wasn’t in a not-all-women-suck mood either.”
She was glad that he hadn’t taken offense to what she’d said. She understood all men weren’t horrible, but right now, she needed a ticket on the Men Suck train.
“What about now?” she asked.
“Now I can admit that not all women are like my ex-wife. But I’m still not ready to tie myself to one until death do us part. Not feeling marriage again.”
“Me either.”
Again, he smiled. Again, teenage Tracey popped up and reminded her about the crush she used to have on Brian. He looked good tonight. All moisturized and put-together in a tan shirt that clung to his broad shoulders and arms, and dark jeans. She’d heard he’d modeled when he was away from Peachtree Cove…well, heard and then looked him up online. He had modeled, and she had appreciated the way he looked in a pair of briefs.
“You’ll bounce back. You always do.” Brian reached over and gently nudged her hand.
Tracey blinked and blocked the mental images of Brian modeling underwear. “How do you know that?”
“I’ve known you most of my life. I’ve seen you bounce back from a lot of things.”
Tracey groaned and rubbed her temple. “I almost forgot, you’ve been there for all my humiliating moments.”
“I saw you go through some things that would bring other people down, but not you. That’s how I know you’ll get through this.”
“I’m tired of being strong,” she mumbled.
“Then, lean on your friends when you need to.”
She smirked. “Friends like you?” She took a sip of her drink.
His gaze never left hers. “You can lean on me if you need to.”
“Really? So if I asked you to dip out on your date and keep me company tonight, you would?” she teased.
“In a hot minute,” he said quickly.
Tracey laughed. Brian didn’t. He watched her seriously. Was he serious? She glanced at the bar. The woman he’d come in with darted glances their way. Brian hadn’t looked to check on her once. His focus remained solely on her. Tracey’s face heated. She was tempted. A big part of her wanted to ask him to do just that. Dump his date and be her wingman for the night. Show her that there was life after divorce. That she wasn’t boring and that she could find the spark that made her interesting again. The idea made her heart race. And deeper than that, it tapped into a hidden territorial part of her. A part that made her want to pretend she had a claim on Brian and that would stroke her ego to watch the woman at the bar who’d looked at her as if she were nothing realize she’d underestimated Tracey. That Tracey still had enough fire to pull a guy like Brian.
She blinked and shook her head. Those thoughts were dangerous. “Thanks, but I’m good. I’m going to have this drink, maybe another, and then I’m done.”
“You sure? You’re okay?”
She smiled and nodded. “I’m good. But thank you, friend.”
He grinned and sighed. “Alright. I’ll call you tomorrow about the wedding.”
“Until tomorrow.”
Brian watched her for another second then got up and went back to the bar. She ordered another drink and an order of potato skins. She sat in her corner, stared at the sky and finished her food. When she asked for her bill, the bartender told her it had already been handled. She glanced over at Brian, still cuddled up with the woman at the bar. He met her eyes and lifted his chin. Smiling, Tracey nodded and then left.