CHAPTER 31
JAMIE
B y the time Jamie dragged herself into Shorty’s penthouse she was dead on her feet—physically, emotionally, spiritually.
All she wanted was to collapse into bed but Poppy had other plans.
Or rather, Poppy’s smell did. The little dog reeked like she’d rolled around in something questionable and maybe made some bad life choices.
With a defeated sigh Jamie hoisted her into the walk-in shower and scrubbed until every trace of Eau de Farm Dog disappeared.
She set her alarm for early the next morning, determined to study first thing. Typically sleep eluded her after a performance—the adrenaline still humming in her veins—but tonight exhaustion dragged at her limbs. She could have passed out on concrete.
She patted the bed and invited Poppy to jump up, but the dog remained seated, whimpering softly by the bed.
Poppy wasn’t signaling she needed to go outside, yet her gentle cries persisted.
Hoping the mattress would comfort her Jamie placed Poppy on the bed, but the dog continued circling and crying.
Jamie cradled her and scratched her chest until sleep took over .
Sometime later Jamie woke as Poppy leaped off the bed.
With only a few hours left before she had to get up she didn’t bother coaxing the dog back—if Poppy preferred another spot she’d let her be.
However, the relentless whimpering soon became too much.
Jamie pulled back the covers and sat at the edge of the bed.
“What’s wrong?” she asked softly. Poppy walked out of the room and Jamie followed. The dog sat by the front door and barked, prompting Jamie to shrug her robe over her pajamas and grab her leash. In the elevator she muttered curses as the floor numbers counted down to the lobby.
Outside Poppy took the smallest pee imaginable before stubbornly refusing to head back inside.
The dog straightened her paws and dug her nails into the pavement, forcing Jamie to lift her once more.
Back in the penthouse Jamie placed Poppy in her dog bed and shut the door to her bedroom.
Though she felt guilty for locking her out, she needed to sleep a little longer.
The phone alarm jolted her from a deep sleep, its sound abrupt in the quiet of the early morning. It felt as if only minutes had passed since she’d drifted off—she wanted to hit snooze or switch off the alarm, but with her exams looming every minute counted.
She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she stepped into the hall, expecting to find Poppy waiting.
But the hallway was empty. Worried, she moved into the living room to discover the dog wasn’t in her usual spot.
“Poppy!” she called out, her voice echoing through the penthouse.
When there was no response, panic set in—had something happened to her beloved dog?
Frantically Jamie searched every room until she finally found Poppy sitting at the front door, panting heavily. Dropping to the floor she scooped up her dog, an unsettling feeling tightening in her chest.
At that moment she remembered she had a vet on speed dial—she called Nolan.
“Good morning,” he answered calmly.
“Hi, Nolan,” she said, still breathless. “There’s something wrong with Poppy.”
“She was fine last night,” Nolan replied.
“I know, but she keeps whimpering and won’t settle down. She slept by the door and now she’s panting.”
Nolan’s tone turned thoughtful. “I don’t think she’s sick. I think she misses her puppies—she’s probably having separation anxiety.”
A wave of guilt washed over Jamie. How had she not considered that? Poppy had been with her puppies since birth, and her abrupt decision to separate them now seemed heartless.
“What should I do?” she asked, desperate for a solution.
“She’ll eventually calm down, but it might take a day or two,” Nolan advised. “For now the only immediate solution is to bring her back to the ranch.”
Jamie sighed, the urgency of her exams still pressing on her mind. “Okay, I’ll call Clayton to pick her up—I don’t have time to drive her back.”
“Ruth and I can come get her,” Nolan offered.
“Thanks, but I know you need to get back to work and Clayton has some time on his hands.”
Jamie set her jaw, resolving to do what was best for Poppy, even if it meant facing Clayton after last night.
The way he’d hugged her—really hugged her, like he wasn’t ready to let go—had sent a warmth running through her, one she wasn’t prepared for.
And then he’d said it. I’m going to miss you.
She’d frozen, her pulse stuttering, because it felt real .
And real scared her .
Jamie said goodbye to Nolan and called his brother.
“Miss me already?” Clayton answered, his voice laced with amusement.
“Hardly.” She rolled her eyes. “I just spoke to Nolan. Poppy barely slept last night—separation anxiety from her puppies, he’s guessing.”
Clayton’s tone shifted. “What do you need?”
“Can you take her? Just until tomorrow? I have to study and she needs to be with them.”
“Be there in a jiffy.”
As much as Jamie hated being apart from Poppy she knew this was the right call for both of them. She needed to focus and Poppy needed her puppies. But once this was all over, then what?
Thirty minutes later Clayton buzzed up to the penthouse. When Jamie opened the door she found him standing in the hallway with the twins, all three grinning. Her heart did that annoying little skip it had started doing whenever Clayton was around—not that she would acknowledge it.
“Girls!” she said, sweeping the twins into a hug before stepping back to let them in. Poppy went bananas, running in circles around them.
“They insisted on coming,” Clayton said, leaning against the doorframe like he had all the time in the world. His eyes flicked over her, lingering for half a second too long. “And who am I to say no to my girls?”
Jamie rolled her eyes, ignoring the way his deep drawl sent a ripple of warmth through her. “Oh, sure. Like you put up a real fight.”
He smirked. “Maybe I just wanted to see you.”
But before she could come up with a witty comeback Charlotte let out an impressed “Wow!” as she took in the penthouse. “Your house is so nice! ”
“It’s Shorty’s,” Jamie replied. “I’m staying here until my exams are over.”
“Then what?” Emily asked, ever the direct one.
Jamie shrugged. “Then I’ll have to find my own place.”
Charlotte turned to her father, bright-eyed. “We have room at our house, don’t we, Daddy?”
Clayton’s smirk deepened. “We sure do, honey.” He shot Jamie a slow, knowing look. “Big ol’ ranch, lots of space. You’d fit right in.”
Jamie scoffed. “I’m a city girl, remember?”
Clayton stepped a little closer, his voice dropping just for her. “I don’t know. Think you’d look real good on the back of a horse.”
Jamie’s pulse spiked. He was teasing her. Flirting.
She crossed her arms, cocking a hip. “I’d rather ride in a sports car with the top down, thanks.”
Clayton tilted his head, studying her like she was a puzzle he was dying to figure out. “Is that so?”
Jamie held his gaze, refusing to let him see the way he was getting to her. “That’s so.”
Charlotte and Emily, oblivious to the tension crackling between them, were already exploring the living room.
Charlotte flopped onto the couch. “I think you should come stay with us.”
Jamie laughed, trying to shake off the way Clayton’s stare still burned into her. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, honey.”
Clayton chuckled. “Can’t blame her for trying.”
Jamie shot him a look. “You either.”
His grin widened. “Now would I do something like that?”
She turned and walked toward the kitchen, knowing full well he was watching her go. “Oh, you absolutely would. ”
And the worst part? She wasn’t sure she’d mind.
She said her goodbyes to the girls and kissed Poppy on the head, promising to pick her up as soon as she finished her exams.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of practice tests and review sessions. Jamie knew she’d do well on the math and science exams, so she’d scheduled them first. Social studies, writing, and finally reading—her weakest subject—would follow.
Rather than pulling an all-nighter she opted for sleep. It would be embarrassing if she didn’t pass, but she had two more chances within the calendar year. She plugged in her phone, set multiple alarms, and climbed into bed. Waking up on time worried her more than the test itself.
When her alarm buzzed the next morning, she checked her phone: first try. Relief settled in as she made coffee and got dressed, mindful an online proctor would be watching. The thought of being observed unnerved her.
The math exam was scheduled for ninety minutes but she finished in forty. She went back to check her answers, but when she started to second-guess herself she submitted it.
Science came next, mostly memorization. She finished in under an hour, far ahead of the time allotted. That one felt solid. She only needed 8 out of 20 to pass, and she was sure she had at least that.
With time to kill before social studies she took a shower to reset. Had it been a mistake to take her best subjects first? Too late to change it now.
Social studies turned out to be easier than expected: questions about maps, charts, and civics. She knew most of the answers from watching the news.
Three down, two to go. Both language arts.
Writing first. She was confident in her writing skills, but the two-hour exam was more intense than the others .
A voice crackled through her speakers. “Please hold your ID up to the camera.”
She did as instructed.
“Jamie Keaton?” the proctor asked.
“Yes.” She adjusted her grip on her license and moved it closer.
Silence. Then, “Jamie Keaton, the singer?”
Shit.
She forced a smile. “Yeah.”
“Oh my God! I saw you at the Bridgestone Arena with Clayton Langley.”
Clayton Langley. The name alone sent her thoughts spiraling.
It took her a few minutes to refocus. She read each question multiple times to make sure she understood it, but the wording tripped her up.
The writing section stretched every bit of the two-hour limit.
The essay she felt good about at least—probably longer than necessary, but better too much than too little.
Only one exam left: reading. Her worst subject. If she were going to fail, it would be from this.
The passages were long and dense, the answer choices frustratingly similar. She read and reread, but still wasn’t sure. Each option seemed right until she saw the next one. Her temples throbbed. Time ticked down. She guessed on the last few questions, certain she’d screwed up.
Logging out of the portal, exhaustion hit like a wrecking ball. Hot tears burned her eyes.
Derrick was right: she was stupid. After months of studying she still couldn’t pass a high school equivalency test.
She collapsed onto the couch, replaying every wasted moment—pranks on the bus, museum visits, Disneyland. She should have studied harder .
She turned on her phone. Group texts flooded in.
Clayton and the girls had sent messages cheering her on. Ruth had sent a fist emoji, calling her strong. Birdie’s message hit the hardest: “Proud of you.”
Shame twisted in her gut. She wasn’t strong. She wasn’t someone to be proud of.
God. She couldn’t face everyone right now, not after all the hours they’d spent helping her.
She hesitated before texting Clayton: hi. i’m tired. can poppy stay overnight?
Clayton responded almost instantly: of course! how did it go?
She replied, ok. i’ll pick her up tomorrow
He texted right back, copy that. see you at ruth’s birthday party
Shit . Ruth’s birthday. She’d almost forgotten.
Tomorrow she’d have to put on a brave face. For Ruth. For everyone.
Even if she felt like a failure.