CHAPTER 19
JAMIE
R uth and Nolan had become attached at the hip.
After she’d walked him out of the studio, he’d asked for her number and then called before he even left the parking lot.
Their dates took them to movies, restaurants, and bowling alleys, each one deepening their connection.
It was adorable—the kind of adorable that made you believe in love and also the kind that made you want to gag a little.
Nolan was good for her—gentle and kind in a way Ruth needed.
Every time he dropped her off at Shorty’s penthouse he made a point to check on Poppy.
The worst of her morning sickness had passed, but exhaustion kept her asleep most of the time.
Jamie noticed the way Ruth softened just a little when Nolan did that, like she wasn’t used to men being so lovely.
The mixing and mastering were done on Jamie’s record, so she stayed home with Poppy and binged Love Is Blind .
The dog could go into labor at any minute, plus she loved watching reality dating shows, her not-so-secret obsession.
She’d often comment on her socials about who the contestants might choose, and more often than not she was right .
Jamie’s phone pinged and she read her message.
The album artwork was finally ready, so she turned on her computer and downloaded the files.
She hated what her record company had chosen for her previous albums, but this cover was different.
At her insistence they’d used an artist instead of a photographer, and it was better than she’d ever expected.
The artist had illustrated her facing away, reminiscent of Taylor Swift’s cover for Evermore , but instead of being in nature she was on a stage, ready to rock.
She clicked on the PDF of the back cover, which featured a similar drawing, but this time it showed her facing the audience.
The track listings were numbered in the order she wanted—the album sequence was her decision—with the last song being “When We Two Parted.” Shorty loved the song and fought for its inclusion on the record.
Doofus, of course, hated it, which made her insanely happy.
A noise came from Poppy’s bed so she got up and checked on her. The dog was panting heavily, but it wasn’t warm inside. She checked the thermostat: it was 68 degrees, on the cooler side of room temperature. Then she remembered Nolan saying it was a sign of labor.
She dialed the vet’s number but it went straight to voicemail. Frustrated, she called her assistant, knowing they were together.
“Hi, James!” Ruth answered on the first ring. “Everything okay?”
“I think Poppy’s going into labor!”
“Oh my God!” She repeated the news to Nolan. “We’ll be right there.”
Ten agonizing minutes later Ruth and Nolan burst through the door, his doctor’s bag clutched tightly in his hand.
“How long has this been going on?” Nolan asked, snapping on latex gloves as he pressed on Poppy’s stomach.
“I called as soon as I noticed.” Jamie knelt beside Poppy and could feel her pain. “She won’t settle. She’s been pacing around the room since I called you. Just circles and circles. ”
“That’s normal,” Nolan said. “It could happen tonight.”
“This is so exciting!” Ruth clapped her hands, bouncing. “Reba’s on her way out!”
Poppy whimpered, her body trembling as a small puddle formed beneath her on the floor. Her big brown eyes darted toward Jamie, a mix of confusion and instinctive urgency shining in them. She panted heavily, her sides heaving with each breath, and let out another soft whine.
“Did she just pee?” Jamie asked. “She’s never had an accident in the house.”
“No.” Nolan scooped her up, cradling her gently as he stepped into the whelping box. He’d built it himself in his workshop, every wooden panel sanded smooth, and lined it with soft blankets. “Her water broke.”
“Jesus,” Jamie said, grabbing paper towels to clean up the mess.
“It won’t be long, now.” Nolan checked his watch. “A couple of hours tops.”
“Should I be boiling water or something?”
The vet looked at her and smiled. “That won’t be necessary.”
“What should I do?” Jamie’s voice wavered as she paced the room, retracing the frantic path Poppy had taken minutes earlier. Her hands fisted at their sides, useless. Helpless. She wanted to help but didn’t know how.
“Staying calm is the best thing for her,” Nolan replied.
Jamie sat beside Ruth on the couch, watching as Nolan tended to her. He’d make a good dad, of that she was sure. And judging by the way her assistant’s eyes softened, Ruth had noticed too.
Ruth’s phone rang twice like someone was buzzing at the entrance.
“Who’s that?” Jamie asked, not expecting an audience.
“Probably Clayton.” Ruth picked up the phone, pressed a button, and said, “Come on up. ”
“Why is Clayton here?” Jamie’s breath hitched, her pulse kicking up a notch. She hadn’t seen him since that night at the recording studio—since he’d told her about his ex-wife with raw honesty.
“He’s the grandpa,” Ruth said, chomping on her gum. “It was only right to invite him.”
Jamie glanced at her outfit and frowned at her hoodie and sweatpants.
She’d worn the same thing for three days straight, every morning meaning to change after her shower but somehow never quite getting there.
The hoodie’s sleeves were stretched from where she kept tugging at them, the cuffs fraying at the edges.
A faint, familiar scent—her detergent mixed with something softer, maybe the ghost of her vanilla lotion—clung to the fabric.
The fleece inside was worn thin in places but it was comfortable, like a security blanket.
Ruth got up and let Clayton inside.
Jamie heard the steady rhythm of his cowboy boots on the hardwood floor before she saw him. When he finally stepped into view she had to remind herself to breathe.
He wore a suede jacket over a black button-down and dark jeans, sharp and well-fitted. But it was his boots that caught her attention. Holy shit! They were polished, new, and nothing like the tattered pair he used to wear.
Something about that change made her pulse skip. Clayton Langley, trading in his old boots? It shouldn’t have meant anything. And yet it did.
“Howdy, folks!” He nodded. “Today’s the big day, huh?” He passed Jamie a stack of books from under his arm. “Shoes on or off?”
“On is fine.” She took the books and flipped through them, HiSET Test Prep , HiSET Study Guide , and HiSET Exam Prep. “What are these? ”
“They’re books, darlin’.”
Ruth hovered above the books, reading them upside down. “James! Are you going back to school?”
“I’m not going back to school. I’m taking my high school equivalency test.”
“That’s amazing!”
“I’m going to be the oldest person taking the test, Ruth.”
“You’re going to do great.” Clayton seemed pretty sure of himself, but she had her doubts.
“Did you get new boots?” Jamie asked in disbelief.
He glanced at the floor. “Sure did.” He wiggled his foot. “And now I know why I’ve been dragging my heels. Feels like these boots are trying to choke the life out of my toes. They hurt like a son of a gun.”
Jamie shrugged. “Better than a son of a bitch.”
Ruth and Nolan laughed, and Clayton too. “I think my jokes are rubbing off on you.”
The thought made her regret ever saying a word.
“So what do we do now?” Jamie asked the vet.
“Sit here and wait,” Nolan answered.
An hour passed with no sign of puppies, and the tension in the room was thick.
Clayton reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a deck of cards, and set it on the coffee table.
Without a word he grabbed two chairs from the dining table, placing them across from the couch before taking a seat.
His brother followed, sitting beside him .
“Poker, anyone?” Clayton asked, riffling the corners together. He pinched the cards and squared the deck, then cut it in half. “Texas hold ’em? Two-five, no limit.”
“Do you always have a deck of cards?” Jamie asked but didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re like Ruth with Sharpies in her back pocket.”
“I’m not playing with her,” Ruth said, nodding toward her boss on the couch as she stretched her interlaced fingers.
“Let me guess.” Clayton cut the deck again. “She always wins.”
“Always.” Ruth crossed her arms against her chest. “No one stands a chance.”
“I’m lucky.” Jamie shrugged. “What can I say?”
“I’m pretty good at poker,” Nolan said. But Jamie doubted it. The doctor was too kind to screw someone over—and that was the whole point.
“That’s what he said.” Clayton turned to his brother and smirked.
“That’s not funny, Clay.” Nolan glanced at Ruth and she laughed, so he laughed too.
“Just a warning—I’m about to clean up,” Clayton said, eyeing the players. “Seven years running I’ve been champion on the tour bus.”
But musicians didn’t worry Jamie; they were more like fish than sharks.
“I don’t play for money.” Jamie lengthened her spin and sat up straight. “I play for bragging rights.” She stood from the couch and walked over to the wall cabinet. “I’ll see if Shorty has anything we can use for chips.” She pulled down the Monopoly box from the shelf. “Will this work?”
Clayton nodded. “It’s perfect.”
Jamie gathered the fake money from the box and doled it out to the brothers before sitting back on the couch .
“I’ll be the dealer,” Ruth said, washing the cards on the coffee table.
“I don’t mind being the small blind,” Jamie said, throwing a fake dollar on the table. The dealer’s left was the worst position in poker, but AJ had taught her how to use it to her advantage. Her dad was a mechanic—a cheater—but she always played it straight.
“I’m the big blind.” Clayton nodded, placing two dollars on the table.
Ruth picked up the deck and dealt two cards to everyone, starting on her left.