Chapter 43
FORTY-THREE
HARRIET
Warren dropped me off at the distillery as promised. He insisted on returning to Iris Meadows to drive me home after my shift, and it took some convincing until he accepted I’d catch a ride with Parker.
Even with the not-so-delightful run in with Peter, my mood soars all evening, and from the standing ovation the crowd gives me at the end of my set, it reflected in my performance.
“Killing it, Harry.” Parker grins and hands me an iced water before turning to her clipboard as she takes stock of the bar. “That last song”—she smacks her lips to the tips of her fingers—“chef’s kiss.”
“Why thank you.” I perch on a stool to catch my breath.
“It’s nice to see you playing original songs again. What’s brought this on?”
“Oh, nothing. Thought I’d mix it up.”
It certainly has nothing to do with the man who vowed to help me reach my dreams or the fact he ravished me boneless hours ago.
Giddy bubbles explode in my stomach. Warren and I didn’t discuss logistics, and I’m more than okay with his request to be patient with him.
Dating for the first time after a failed marriage must be tough. Talia is proof of that.
“Your parents divorced when you were young,” I say to Parker. “How long until they dated again?”
After her dad started experiencing some health issues last year, she moved back into her childhood home. She sees her mom occasionally, but they’re not as close as she and her dad, who are two peas in a pod, with their matching dark humor and lack of filters.
Parker thinks. “Mom, not very long. Their marriage was over long before the divorce. My dad took longer. Maybe a year or two. Why’d you ask?”
I blow out a breath and rest my chin on my fist. “I know you didn’t like Warren at first.”
“You could say he’s grown on me.”
“Which means a lot. You’re one of the most important people in my life.” Nothing gets past Parker, so buttering her up is futile, and her sharp edges soften under my flattery. “Somewhere along the way, Warren has also become important to me.”
She narrows her eyes. “You’ve asked him to cater to your horny pregnant lady needs again, haven’t you?”
I dip my fingers in my water and flick it in her face. “You’re incorrigible.”
“And you’re a Randy Sandy. What does this have to do with divorce?”
There’s a reason Parker is set to take over from Jimmy when he retires. She’s direct and takes no prisoners. I love her for it, truly, though the heat from being under her spotlight makes my boobs sweat.
“Obviously, we’ve spent a lot of time together since December and attraction was never an issue.” I tap nervously on the side of my glass. “It’s not serious. Or I hope it will be. Um, we’re—”
A tattooed hand halts my fidgeting. “Does he treat you like the queen you are?”
I swallow. “Always.”
“And you’re confident he’s here to stay?”
“Yes.”
The corner of her mouth tilts up. “And you’re disgustingly happy when you’re around him?”
My response is immediate. “Even when we’re apart.
There’s something there. Obviously, the baby plays a large part in this, but it’s also him.
Us. It feels…right. It’s the exact opposite of what I wanted originally, and if it goes belly up, I’ll only have myself to blame.
” I sigh and stop my waffling. “Basically, what I’m trying to say is we’re giving this a shot. At being a couple.”
“Harry, out of the four of us, you’re the least complicated and therefore most likely to get their happy ending.
What matters is you’re happy and Warren makes you happy.
Screw what we think.” Parker leans closer and squeezes my hand.
“If someone were to look at me like I’d hung their entire universe, I sure as heck wouldn’t remain friends with them. ”
My shoulders slump in relief. “I really like him.”
She smirks knowingly. “I can tell. You’re all doe-eyed and rosy-cheeked. But again, what does this have to do with divorce and dating?”
I blow out a breath. “This is his first relationship since his wife left him.”
“She left him? That’s news. Anything weird?”
“No. I mean, I didn’t ask. I doubt I’ll ever meet her, not unless we run into each other like we keep doing with Peter.”
Parker snarls.
“I guess I’m searching for advice.”
Parker exhales, blowing a few lavender strands off her brow. “This is a big step for him. I wonder why he’s put it off.”
I shrug. “I’m not eager to question the why. All that matters is that he’s open to it now. He’s asked for things to go slow, and I’m finding it difficult to see, considering we’ve slept with each other and are expecting a baby.”
“There’s no blueprint to your situation.
You have to do what works best for the two of you.
If you asked Margot, she’d whip out her cards and tell you ‘great change is on the horizon.’” We both laugh at the sweet voice she uses to imitate our friend.
“For once, I agree with her clairvoyant-ness. Warren is saying and doing all the right things. Keep the communication open and honest, but don’t compromise your own needs.
This is a delicate time for you, and if you need to pump the brakes at any point, do so. ”
It’s solid advice. Warren is constantly reminding me we’re a team, and I need to make sure it sticks as we enter this new phase.
The bell for last orders rings through the room, and customers gradually flow toward the exit.
“Whew. Listen to me being all wise and shit.” Parker straightens, tucking her clipboard under her arm. “Let me finish here, and I’ll meet you out front in fifteen.”
“You gotcha. And thanks.”
We share a smile as she wanders toward the offices.
Jimmy told everyone I was under no obligation to lift anything bigger than a thimble, so one of the bartenders is packing my equipment away for me. I spin on the stool, smiling at the last few customers, when a group of young women skips over.
“Hi, ladies,” I greet. “Having a good night?”
“Yes!” the one wearing a Bride To Be sash squeals. “This place is the cutest, and you were amazing up there.”
“Thanks. You’ll have to visit us after your wedding.”
Her friends shift excitedly behind her, and her friends nudges her in the arm, whispering, “Ask her.”
“Um, so, we were wondering if Tate Brooks still performs here?”
Oh, jeez. I’m quick to school my features.
Tate Brooks is well-known in Iris Meadows and beyond.
Like way beyond. He’s one of Nashville’s biggest rising stars, and it’s common knowledge this is where it all began.
Don’t get me wrong, Tate worked his ass off to get where he is, but it came at a cost.
“Sadly, no. We’re small fry compared to the venues he performs at now.” They all slump in disappointment. One girl looks close to crying. “We have a few of his signed records hanging in the foyer, if you want to—”
They all scamper away before I finish.
It’s a good thing Parker isn’t here. Or Talia.
Waving goodbye to Jimmy, who chats to a couple across the room, I collect my purse and go to find my chauffeur.
She’s already parked outside the main entrance, and to my embarrassment, she’s blasting one of my songs through her speakers.
I knew I’d regret sending her those recordings, because now, I’m forced to listen to myself duet with my best friend.
She’s gorgeous, confident, but good god, she cannot hold a tune to save her life.
According to my baby app, they can hear noises outside of the womb now, so I cover my bump with my hands.
I will not survive the short ride back to town if this carries on. After the third ear-drum-damaging chorus, I slap the volume button and tune into a local radio station.
“Hey!”
“That’s enough from you, Dolly Parton.”
She pouts behind the wheel. “I saw you talking to those girls.”
I grimace. “Tate fans.”
A sudden drumming on the roof of the truck makes us jump. The wipers work overtime to clear the heavy downpour, and Parker slows as we trundle along the pitch black back road. The rain has been on and off all evening, leaving the tarmac slick.
“I’ve begged Jimmy to remove Tate’s bio from our website.” She tsks.
“It’s good for business. I’m just worried one day, Talia is going to overhear one of them. Do you know she refuses to listen to the radio?”
Parker gasps, but not from my question. A flash of brown darts in front of the truck, lit up by the headlights.
It happens in less than two seconds.