29. Emerson
EMERSON
By Tuesday, Jace’s nails still have the remnants of the polish Georgia and Poppy applied at the salon. They giggled and drank sparkling apple juice from plastic champagne flutes and otherwise just charmed the entire staff.
It was nice.
Fun.
And I had the weirdest flash of a future where I took my own daughter for manis, sitting in fluffy robes and indulging in a girls’ day.
I shook the thought away just as fast. I was caught up in the moment, and if I really wanted to have a girls’ day, I could just borrow Poppy and Georgia.
Or I could fly to Clementine Creek and go out with Isla and Nova. Hank’s genes didn’t even try with that one. She’s all her mother, and Hank is going to be in serious trouble when she’s older.
It’s going to be hilarious.
The boys, on the other hand, look exactly like Hank and they’ll break their fair share of hearts, I’m sure.
The thought has my mind drifting to Garrett with his dark hair, high cheekbones, and that panty-melting smirk I can’t get enough of.
What would a kid look like if we had one?
“Miss Andrews?” Des’s voice is like a bucket of cold water. There’s no chance that Garrett and I are having a kid—imaginary or not.
What the hell is wrong with me?
“What is it?” My voice is sharper than I intend, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he looks back down at the tablet in his hand.
He’s just doing his job.
Like I should be.
Softening my expression, I roll my shoulders back and wait.
“The acquisition in Tennessee has been approved,” he says, his eyes darting to me as I slap the polished wood.
“Yes!” Finally. The deal had been proposed to buy out a company with locations outside of Nashville—one we’d been working on for a while. I’d scouted the area myself, making sure it hit all the requirements for expanding the reach of Andrew International’s real estate holdings.
With the needs of our clients both here and abroad ever-changing, it’s crucial that we’re able to provide the experience they expect.
“We have a few months before we need to be out there but…”
“What? This is great news. We’ve worked tirelessly on this deal.”
“You’ll be gone a month or more. Don’t you want to check with Mr. North?” There’s an odd tone to his voice, one that has me swallowing down what I want to say in favor of something more professional.
“That time frame”—I click through the calendar on my computer, verifying the date of our divorce before meeting Des’s gaze—“puts us after things are finished.” I don’t elaborate and he dips his head. “Make the arrangements.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“What else?”
“There are three applications that I weeded out from the pile that came in for Quinn’s position.”
Relaxing back in the rich leather seat, I ask, “Do you have a favorite?”
“On paper, yes, but I’ll hold judgment till they interview,” he says and my lips twitch, remembering the last time we did interviews and Des’s pick had tanked within the first five minutes sitting across from me.
“Good.” I nod. “Set it up. I want to find someone and get them settled before I have to leave.”
“Of course.” I expect him to be nearly out of my office, but he’s still in the same spot when I glance up from the papers on my desk.
“Is there something else?”
“Mr. North—”
“Des, listen to me.” I draw the words out, for emphasis. “Things between Garrett and me do not concern you. This is the business. Whatever happens between you and Theo is your business. Am I nosey? Sure. But you don’t have to worry about any backlash on either side, all right?”
“Okay.” He doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t say anything else, this time turning and leaving my office, which is good because I have work to do.
GARRETT
GARRETT: I wrote a new song
MAVERICK: That’s awesome man when can we hear it?
LACHLAN: I’ll clear my schedule
MAVERICK: You don’t have a schedule
LACHLAN: I have a few prior engagements scheduled
MAVERICK: How many fuck buddies do you have?
LACHLAN: It’s called tact
GARRETT: Don’t be mad he’s getting laid
MAVERICK: Way to take his side
LACHLAN: I can get you a date
MAVERICK: Can we focus on the music?
LACHLAN: Getting laid might give you some inspiration
MAVERICK: My musical inspiration is just fine, fuck you very much
GARRETT: My house tomorrow at nine
LACHLAN: In the morning??
MAVERICK: FFS get your ass up like the rest of us
GARRETT: Can’t wait to see you guys
MAVERICK: Feels like finally
LACHLAN: Hell yes brother
Dropping my phone onto the table, I let my eyelids flutter closed, my fingers tapping out the cadence, the words smooth as fine whiskey playing in my mind. I wrote the whole song in an afternoon—something different from what I sat down to write.
I thought the page would be filled with angst and bitterness from the way Darren had forced my hand, but when I was finished, it was nothing like that.
Resilience.
Rebirth.
Rising from the ashes.
Descending North is more than just a band; it’s my life’s work—my passion and the beat of my soul.
And I’m done making myself feel less in order to hold space for Darren and his bullshit. Because at the end of the day, all I wanted was for him to care. I wanted him to apologize and show me that the guy that played in garages and rode in a cramped van with us is still in there.
Maybe I am too nice.
The sound of an incoming message pulls me back to the present. Sighing, I grab it and try to push the heaviness down.
ROAN: Darren’s lawyer is a slimy son of a bitch
GARRETT: Should we be worried?
ROAN: What? No. I’m the fucking best—I’m just telling you
ROAN: Just don’t say anything to Darren
ROAN: If he contacts you at all ignore it and send everything to me
GARRETT: I’ve been doing that
ROAN: I’m reminding you
ROAN: I don’t want him to take advantage of you
GARRETT: I’m fine
ROAN: This is me as your lawyer and not your friend. He will try and manipulate you if you give him even the slightest opening. They’ve filed three bullshit motions today—time wasters—but this is a marathon and they’re going to try and exhaust us
I want to be offended at the insinuation that I’m too weak and emotional to handle Darren, but that’s the only side I’ve shown him. Roan has had to deal with lots of different issues for me over the years but nothing like this.
Darren is personal.
So it makes sense that Roan is concerned about me fucking it up.
Still…
GARRETT: I won’t be a liability
ROAN: You’re never a liability—I just don’t want this to be any more painful for you than it already is. I need you to be aware of what’s going on so that if they come after you I can squash the little pissants
GARRETT: You must be a hell of a sight in the courtroom
ROAN: You have no idea
GARRETT: I just want it to be done
ROAN: Soon.
Not soon enough.