Chapter 35
Angus
I’m having breakfast with Uncle Alex—I don’t know if I can adjust to calling him Dad, not yet anyway—when his butler brings in the morning paper. And a copy of Rock Harder Magazine , which I asked him to get last night. I’m staying at Uncle Alex’s since there’s no point in opening up my house for a day when I have to turn around and leave again.
“I think, sir, you may want to brace yourself,” Rupert, Alex’s longtime butler and friend, says as he lays two copies of Rock Harder down, one for each of us.
“Brace myself?” Alex asks, looking up. “For what?”
“You’ll need to read it, sir.” He gives me a weird look before refilling my cup and leaving the room.
“What’s with him?” I ask in confusion.
“I have no idea. I’ve never seen him act this way.” Alex puts on his reading glasses, picks up the magazine, and smiles. “Look, there’s Ryleigh’s name right on the cover. Though I can’t say I’m fond of the article’s title.”
I look down and frown. “That’s not what she titled it—I read it before she sent it off.”
“Oh, fuck.” Alex is reading and his face pales a little. “Angus, what did she do?”
“Who?” I ask.
“Is this the kind of journalism she writes?” he demands. “Jesus fucking Christ.” He tosses down the magazine, grabs his phone, and makes a call. “Vi—you need to come over right now—right fucking now, Vi. I’m not kidding. Get in your car and drive to my house. Immediately. Your future depends on it.” He disconnects and makes another call.
“Who are you calling?” I demand. “Was that my mother? What’s going on?”
“Read the fucking story, Angus.”
I start reading, and my heart sinks.
What did you do, Ryleigh?
I’m planning to take care of her.
Alex gave me his mother’s ring—the one she gave him to give to the woman he eventually proposed to—so I can propose to Ryleigh.
She didn’t have to do this.
Why would she do this?
When her text appears on the screen of my phone, I ignore it, continuing to read.
My heart breaking a little with each word.
Including, “…this reporter’s nights in his bed, feeling wild and wanton and completely uninhibited. Even if I didn’t know exactly who the man in bed with me really was.”
Fury overrides the heartbreak as I stare at the words before me.
This can’t be happening.
She didn’t just betray me, she betrayed the band, her friends… There’s even a snarky comment about Sam robbing the cradle with his “virginal eighteen-year-old companion, who’s more innocent sex kitten than pop star.”
Sam is going to lose his shit.
Jonny is never going to forgive me for bringing more drama to the band, even though it’s not like I’m the one who invited Ryleigh to go on tour with us.
Sasha’s name flashes on the screen of my phone but I’m not ready to talk to her yet.
“Angus, you look a little pale, son.” Alex comes back in the room, his face an inscrutable mask.
“I don’t understand.” I shake my head. “I was ready to give her the world...”
He puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Believe me, I understand. I’ve been there.”
“If you and Mom were already dating, why would she marry your brother?” I ask in frustration.
“Because I always knew August was going to be the family patriarch someday, and I was born to be his wife.” My mother walks in looking as polished and perfectly put together as ever. “Now, what is it that has you so riled up at…” She pauses to look at her watch. “…ten fifteen in the morning.”
Alex holds out the magazine and she looks at it distastefully.
“Do I have to touch it? For heaven’s sake, what’s wrong with the two of you? Can someone please just give me Cliff’s Notes?” She looks from me to Alex and back again.
He sighs and then begins to read. “Angus Jeffries isn’t Angus Jeffries. In fact, Angus Jeffries isn’t even August Michael Hollingsworth, III. Well ? —
She snatches the magazine out of his hands to read it herself.
“This!” she cries when she’s finished. “ This is why we don’t date beneath us. This is what happens when you date greedy little strumpets with no breeding!”
I can’t even argue with her.
I don’t like her calling Ryleigh names but I also don’t understand how this happened. Ryleigh is literally the only other person who knew. Other than my parents, of course.
“Your father is going to be extremely frustrated,” she continues, making a face. “I guess you got your wish, Alex. But understand, this changes nothing. August and I already had a plan in place, just in case something like this happened.”
“A plan?” I stare at her.
“Yes. A plan. That’s what smart people do to stay ahead of things. You don’t allow the press to find things out all…willy-nilly.”
Willy-nilly?
She’s never used that phrase in her life.
Am I living in an alternate reality or something?
“Mom, what are you talking about?” I ask. “Could someone please be honest with me for once in your goddamn lives?”
She tsks at me. “Language, dear. Rupert, could you get me some coffee, please?” She sits down at the table where not ten minutes ago I’d been about to have a relaxing breakfast with…my father. A man I actually like. Someone I want to spend time with.
Last night’s conversation had been difficult, but we’d come out the other side in a good place, opting to keep his identity as my father a secret but to carry on our relationship in whatever way we choose. He was reluctant to out my mother to her husband, citing no desire to blow up the family, and at the end of the day—since I don’t really care about that whole dynamic, it makes no difference to me.
And yet somehow, I managed to blow up everyone’s lives.
Again.
“Does Dad know?” I ask. “August. Does August know?”
“Yes, of course. I haven’t shared a bed with him in…” She waves a hand. “Well, a long time.”
“Are all of us Alex’s children?” I ask incredulously.
“No, no. Abe was a drunk accident, but I don’t know where Annette came from. Some sort of stork wearing a pool boy costume, I presume.”
“Oh my god.” I stare at her. “You don’t know who her father is?”
“August Hollingsworth is her father,” she replies drolly. “But once I realized that sort of thing was dangerous, Alex and I agreed that if we wanted to grow the family we should at least try to let them have the same father. There was a miscarriage between Annette and Alden, and then I decided I was done.”
“So August…can’t have children?” I ask in confusion.
“He can, he just has no interest in vaginas,” Alex supplies. “We didn’t figure it out until later, though.”
“I can’t even…” I stop myself, trying to wrap my head around all of this information. Thank fuck that wasn’t in the article.
“So Alden and I are Alex’s, Annette has a bird for a biological father, and Abe is the only true Hollingsworth heir.”
My mother chuckles, as if this is somehow funny.
“You guys are something,” I mutter. “And Dad just turned the other way?”
That’s the hardest thing to understand.
Mom lifts one shoulder. “Like Alex said, other than our honeymoon and one drunken evening that produced Abe, his sexual proclivities do not include vaginas.”
Nope, I was wrong before.
This might be the hardest part to understand.
I don’t have a problem with him being gay but the lengths they all went to seems— “You didn’t tell me about August being gay,” I say accusingly, looking at Alex. “I thought we were opening up to each other?”
He sighs. “That wasn’t my story to tell.”
“Wait, is this because of Grandpa?” I ask suddenly. “You didn’t want him to know his first-born is gay?”
Mom wobbles her hand from side to side. “There was him, but it was more his mother. She was the ball buster. Plus the board wouldn’t have taken kindly to it.”
“But everyone thinks Alex is gay,” I protest.
“ Alex isn’t the firstborn son.”
“And now, neither am I.” I get up and pour myself another cup of coffee as my phone rings.
Ryleigh.
I don’t know what to say but I answer anyway, walking out toward the patio for a bit of privacy.
“What did you do?” I ask by way of greeting.
“I didn’t do anything,” she says quickly. “Angus, I swear. I don’t know how this happened.”
“You’re the only one who knew,” I say. “Other than the two people who were involved, only you and me.”
“I don’t know.” She starts to cry. “I’m so sorry. You saw what I sent him.”
“But you emailed him a bunch more times.”
“Only twice!” she sobs. “And I was asking him what was going on… I’ll show you?—”
“It’s incredibly easy to hide emails,” I say quietly. “Or create temporary accounts. You can delete records of emails like they never existed. Same with texts. And honestly, you’re the only one with something to gain. I’ve been trying to come up with a reason for anyone else to do it, but everything leads back to you.”
“To what end?” she cries out. “I have you! Technically, I don’t need a job or health insurance—a multi-millionaire told me he loved me and asked me to move in with him. Why would I give that up for a job working for a man I hate?”
“That’s what’s tripping me up too,” I say after a moment. “But this is too much. Too much embarrassment, too much lying… Maybe you told Taryn and she told Callum. I don’t think you did it maliciously, but I don’t see us getting past this. I can’t trust you… You’ve just thrown me, my family, and worst of all, the band, to the wolves. This article is everywhere. My phone has been blowing up the last fifteen minutes…”
“Look, I’m trying to find out what happened. Give me a few hours and I can?—”
“I gave you everything,” I interrupt quietly. “Access to my band, my friends, my family, and more than that—I gave you my heart. I don’t know what you thought, that maybe you could have it all, but you can’t. Not with me. I’m sorry, Ryleigh. Whatever this is, I want no part of it. Take care of yourself.”
I disconnect the call and then just stand there.
I don’t know what to do next.
I have the money and resources to fix my reputation and that of my band. My mother apparently already has a plan in place to minimize damage to the Hollingsworth reputation. I just have to figure out how to explain the whole sordid tale to the band.
They’re my priority even though very little of this has anything to do with them.
Besides, Casey has a wide reach—I know she can fix this.
Even if I have to pay for it out of my own pocket.
Ryleigh’s betrayal hits harder, though. She had to know this would end us. But she did it anyway. And I can’t fathom how I’m going to get past it.
I’ve never had a broken heart as an adult.
As far as I’m concerned, this is the first—and the last.