Not A Thing (The Seddledowne #2)

Chapter 1 – Holden

one

HOLDEN

I’m not normally a honker. My mom raised me better than that. But sometimes on the DC beltway, when Joe Blow is meandering down the fast lane like he’s out for a Sunday drive, you gotta do it.

I pounded my hand into the center of the steering wheel, blaring my custom horn noise. “Moooooooo.” Nobody expected to hear an angry cow in the middle of rush hour traffic. Just a nod to my Dupree Ranch roots. Which was fitting, since that’s where I was headed.

Slow Poke rewarded me with the middle finger and a hard brake tap. An opening in traffic appeared to the right, and I sped around, putting him squarely in my rearview and out of my mind.

Just then, my car’s digital voice, which I’d brilliantly nicknamed Tessie, announced an incoming text in her silky, smooth tone, “Sullen Silverado said, ‘Seriously, tool? You didn’t think to tell me Christy was the new principal of Seddledowne High?’”

I snorted, annoyed at my brother Silas’s text.

Because first of all, I’d just been trying to think up a better nickname for him now that, according to our mother, landing his dream girl had turned his disposition perpetually smiley.

Pshaw. Apparently, not today. And second, it was irritating that he thought I had some kind of pulse on his ex-fiancée, Christy, and her life plans. And third…just wow.

Christy had accepted a job in Seddledowne?

As a principal?

I mean, yeah, I’d known she interviewed for a job with the Seddledowne School District for an eighth-grade teacher position.

I would’ve told him that if I’d thought there was any point.

But I’d assumed that, when everything fell apart between the two of them, she’d headed straight back home to Laramie, Wyoming.

Why poke the bear with useless information?

My stomach did a backflip at the realization that she was in my hometown, not two thousand miles away like I’d thought. My heart kicked into a trot.

Snuff it out, loser. She’s not for you.

I pressed the button on the steering wheel to reply. “Man, I honestly didn’t know. That’s crazy. Thought she went home weeks ago.” I held my breath as I flipped the blinker and merged onto I-66, headed west.

Christy was moving—no, it was the first day of school—she’d already moved…

to my hometown? The question was why. She couldn’t actually think she had a chance of getting Silas back, could she?

Then again, she didn’t know he and Lemon were already married.

At least, I hadn’t told her. Maybe that’s exactly what she thought.

Jealousy growled like a beast in my throat.

Tessie again. I groaned. “Sullen Silverado said, ‘You didn’t discuss that in between all the face sucking?’”

“Whatever,” I muttered. It was one kiss, not a one-night stand. And I’d written Christy off the minute Silas had caught her kissing me. Yeah. She kissed me.

Had I kissed her back?

Yes. Because as my fourteen-year-old niece Anna liked to say, I’d caught feelings.

A rare occurrence in my world and something I always steered away from.

But when Christy—who is extremely attractive, and smells like berries and honey, I might add—had grabbed the back of my head and smashed her lips against mine, my primitive manly instincts took over and I “leaned into it” for a minute. Or fifteen. Sue me.

I laughed at my lawyer pun. But then I scowled. Because the minute Silas had arrived, Christy had steamrolled right over our situationship—as Anna called it—to get to him.

And that was that.

I’m pretty sure Silas thought The Christy Kiss had happened the other way around. That I’d put the moves on her. But I didn’t care. Christy had been through enough, so I’d quietly take one for the team.

You’re not a team, noob. And you need to stop thinking you are.

I shrugged at the shoulder angel trying to steer me in the right direction. Whatever. It didn’t matter. Besides, people had thought a lot worse things about me in the past. I was used to being the scapegoat. Pile it on.

Tessie once more. “Sullen Silverado said, ‘Would’ve been nice to know before they named me assistant principal. But once again, you weren’t thinking with your head, were you?’”

My fingers clamped down on the steering wheel. “Okay, d-bag.” Then I exhaled. Silas was just stressed right now. He didn’t usually act like this, I reminded myself.

Not sure how having Christy as his boss was my fault, but that’s what happens when you make out with your brother’s former fiancée. You get to be the bad guy for a while.

I clamped my jaw, determined to be the bigger man, and pressed the button to reply. “Just told you I didn’t know. Haven’t talked to her since the last time you saw her. Don’t care if you believe me. Congrats on the new job, though.”

Truth was, I couldn’t be mad at him for acting like a brat.

I’d done him dirty, and I knew it. I was single for life.

I knew that too. A confirmed bachelor, as my mom had called it ever since watching a particular Dr. Phil episode—even though I’d tried to tell her it wasn’t the sixties anymore and it didn’t mean what it used to.

She said it as more of a joke anyway. She made it clear, always with a pat on my cheek, that my time was coming.

My family thought I played the field because I was on the hunt for a wife. It was easier to let them believe that. But I knew. Had known for years. Happily ever after was not in the cards for me.

I swore as Tessie announced again, “Sullen Silverado said, ‘Thanks for coming to the wedding too. Nice to know you supported me throwing away a fiancée, but not marrying the love of my life. Ulterior motives, clearly.’”

A string of expletives came out now. I was happy for him and Lemon.

Ridiculously. And I’d thought gifting them three nights at a fancy cabin on the Skyline Drive would’ve shouted that loud and clear.

Should’ve known Silas wouldn’t care about that.

He could not be bought off, even if I was smack-dab in the middle of the biggest case of my career.

I’d wanted to be at the wedding. Really, really wanted to.

It killed me not to see him finally get the girl.

But they’d given me three days’ notice. And my boss, Wellington Sipsby, had made it clear that if I’d come down last weekend, I wouldn’t have been able to come this weekend to do what needed to be done.

Hopefully, by tomorrow night, Silas would be pounding me on the back, forever in my debt.

An incoming call rang through the speakers. I smiled at this number and pressed the green call button on the touchscreen instrument panel.

“What’s up, Anaphylaxis?” My current nickname of choice for my niece.

“Please, please, please tell me you’re on your way.

” The tremble in her voice said she was in no mood for joking around.

“We’ve got this, right?” Her mom, my sister, Sophie, had passed away three and a half months ago and the court date for the ruling on who would be Anna’s guardian was tomorrow morning.

“Kiddo,” I softened my tone. “Yes. You can stop stressing. I’ll be there by the time you’re done with volleyball practice. I promise. Granny and Gramps are expecting me to bring you home after.”

There was a tiny exhale of relief. “I just really want this to work, you know? It’s killing me that Uncle Si and Aunt Lemon are over there, living their best lives without me.

” Yes, I knew. She’d called me every day since Silas and Lemon had announced their three-day whirlwind engagement and every day since they’d tied the knot.

I sighed. “Anna. I can promise you, if you’re not with them, they aren’t living their best lives. It is killing them.” Lemon had told me as much when I’d called to let her know I wouldn’t be able to make it to the wedding.

“What if the judge doesn’t care? What if she only sees the mistakes that were made?”

I didn’t want to tell her what she didn’t want to hear, but I also needed her to be realistic. I was a lawyer. Not a miracle worker. “Then you live with Granny and Gramps. Silas and Lemon will still be a big part of your life.”

After a few seconds of silence, she said, “I know. I’m just…I’m having really bad FOMO. Brooklyn says I shouldn’t use that word anymore. It’s cheugy.” I swear I could hear her eyes roll. I wanted to roll my eyes. Cheugy? So Gen Z was just making up words now.

“Did you talk to Granny and Gramps yet?” I didn’t try to keep the hope out of my voice.

“No,” she said sharply. “And we’re not going to.” It was an adorable threat. “If Granny knows, she might try to stop us.”

I wasn’t sure Anna knew the hurt it was going to cause if my parents weren’t aware that she was planning to fight to the death for Silas and Lemon to be her legal guardians.

But if I didn’t let Anna do this her way, and it turned out badly, she’d never forgive me or my parents.

It was her life. She was the one who had to live with whatever happened tomorrow.

As her lawyer, it was her interests I had to be committed to.

Even if I was working pro bono. And, if I was honest, I felt a duty to Sophie.

She’d wanted Anna to be with Silas and Lemon.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Okay. If you’re sure. You go ahead to practice or you’ll be late.”

“And you be on time, too. No stopping for snacks.” Her stern bossiness sounded just like her mom, and I had to bite the inside of my cheek not to laugh out loud.

She knew me too well. I was already planning where the next Sheetz gas station was.

I loved their milkshakes. “There’s a short parents’ meeting at the end of practice, and I need you to sign a form before we leave. ”

Just then, another call came in.

“Yes, ma’am.” I saluted.

“You just saluted. Didn’t you?”

“I would never.” I chuckled. “See you soon, Annaconda.”

I pressed end and accepted the next call from my summer intern, Audrey.

I let out a large exhale as the call switched over.

If there were a picture for the term “ball of nerves,” it would be Audrey.

I usually didn’t let other people’s anxiety bleed over into my life, but Audrey was a quick-witted, filterless, shaky chihuahua.

When she was around, tension was inevitable.

“Hello?” I answered, forcing calm and confidence into my tone. Maybe if I kept shoveling it in her direction, some of it would stick.

“I’m so sorry to bother you, Mr. Dupree—”

“Just Holden, Audrey.” We did this every time we talked.

And we’d do it again next time. Not sure why calling me by my first name like everyone else in our office was so intimidating, but it made her twitchy.

Literally. Whenever I said my first name, her left eye would start flicking in quick upward movements, reminiscent of someone about to have a grand mal seizure.

“H-Holden.” I heard her swallow through the speaker. “Sir, I really think you should come back. I don’t think…no, I can’t run the meeting tomorrow with Senator Bromhorst. He’s been calling here—”

“Audrey, we’ve already been over this.” I pinched the bridge of my nose.

Sometimes dealing with this woman was like trying to nail jelly to a wall.

“Trixie is covering the meeting tomorrow. I need you to defer to her.” I spoke distinctly and slowly.

“I have to focus on my niece for the next twenty-four hours.”

“But, Mr. Dupree—”

“Holden, Audrey.” I cut her off, maxed out. “You’ve got this. Trixie’s got this. Chill.” Finally, there was silence. “You are capable. You are going to be a great lawyer.” Once you go to therapy and get on some medication. “If you have concerns, I need you to go to Trixie. And Audrey?”

“Yes, sir.” Her tone was ashamed, like a puppy who’d been caught ripping open a bag of trash.

“Repeat in your head after me: The meeting will be fine. The world will not end while Holden is gone. Everything will be all right.” Before she could try to counter, I added, firmly, “I don’t want to see your name pop up on my phone again until Monday.

Are we clear?” I hated talking to her like a toddler, but this girl was going to sabotage her future career if she couldn’t get it under control.

And I could not deal with her while I was trying to solidify Anna’s future.

“Yes, sir.” Again with the puppy guilt.

“Good. And one more thing. After the meeting tomorrow, I want you to do something to de-stress. Whatever that looks like for you. You’ve got a big bonus coming next week before you head back to school. So go splurge, all right?” My eyebrow was kissing my hairline. I wasn’t asking.

“Okay.” Her laugh was quivery. “Thank you, Mr.—”

I cleared my throat.

“Thank you, Holden.”

We hung up.

Sometimes, I wondered if I’d picked the right field.

Honestly, it was no wonder Audrey was an anxious mess at the moment.

We were currently representing Senator George Bromhorst from Iowa.

According to the press and Jolie Mansfield, the accuser, four years ago Bromhorst had paid her two thousand dollars for one night together.

And he’d filmed the two of them in a skeezy motel, off the beltway in Maryland, without Mansfield’s knowledge.

But now that he was a famous politician, the videos had magically come into Mansfield’s possession and she was suing for three million dollars.

One million for each hour he’d filmed her.

But, once others had heard about the case, more women had stepped forward.

To date, eight women were telling similar stories and had the videos as proof.

If it had been up to me, I wouldn’t have taken the case.

I didn’t agree with most of Bromhorst’s politics and he oozed shadiness.

But Caldwell, Caldwell, Sipsby, and Anderson hadn’t built up one of the biggest firms in the metro area by turning down high-profile cases.

I cracked my neck from side to side and let out a big breath. For the next twenty-four hours, I would let it go. For the next twenty-four hours, my biggest and most important client was Annaleise Nicole Dupree.

I cranked up a country song, recommended by my youngest brother, Ford, pressed down the gas pedal, and flew over the green, rolling Virginia hills toward my hometown, Seddledowne.