Chapter Sixteen
Our apology tour starts that night at the bar.
Which makes sense, since it’s where this all began.
Standing guard at the door is Mac, turning away anyone he doesn’t recognize.
This is not a place welcome to the media.
It was Nash’s idea to throw a Please Forgive Us party and honestly, it’s a solid one.
Especially since the citizens of The Bend are willing to cover for us after everything we’ve done, they deserve a big heartfelt statement from the both of us.
And care of an open bar and Carmen and her husband handing out tacos, most everyone we know in town has made an appearance.
“Go on then,” says Sabrina, sidling up to me with a cocktail in hand. She narrows her gaze to show she’s all about business. “What have you got to say to me?”
“I’m sorry we did such a dick thing.”
“And the dick thing in question was?”
“Lying about Nash’s identity and our relationship status and the imaginary progeny.”
“Are you ever going to do it again?”
“Absolutely not,” I say. “It was not only stressful as fuck, but I hurt people such as yourself, who I would really like to call my friend. So I’m hoping you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”
She nods. “I need some time to think it over. But given how good these bramble vodkas are, there’s a very good chance you’re fine with me.”
“They’re great, right?”
“What’s Bernadette doing here?” Sabrina frowns. “There’s no way that woman is ever going to forgive or accept you. You know she’s still trying to get people to sign a petition to have you two run out of town.”
“I imagine she’s here for the free food and booze.”
“Yeah,” she says. “So, what’s the actual tea between you and the rockstar? Heard he bought the place next to your grandma.”
“We’re living there together.” I think it over. “He hasn’t sent me the nondisclosure yet, but I assume I can say that much.”
“Dating someone with an NDA…” She shakes her head. “That’s wild.”
“It is.”
“His brother’s cute too. Guess it comes with the whole twin territory.
I like the longer hair on him.” She nods toward where Angus is standing by the bar talking to Wade.
In all likelihood, Angus is receiving an impromptu induction into the local yarn scene.
Wade is a man who takes his crafting seriously.
“No idea if he’s single or what,” I say.
Sabrina snorts. “Too young for me anyway. My days of training men are over. I need them to be at least fifty with basic domestic skills, earning a good dependable income, and not talking to ten other women on some dating app.”
“Seems like both a sensible and reasonable baseline.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” She sighs. “I fully expect to stay single. You know the house across the street from your grandma’s is about to come on the market. Awilda had a job offer in Boston, which is closer to her family.”
“Hope whoever buys it doesn’t mind photographers parked out front making a nuisance of themselves.”
“Better you dealing with all that than me. I couldn’t stop myself from flipping the bird at them every chance I got,” she says. “Time for another drink. You want one?”
I shake my head. “I’m going to help Carmen hand out the food. Those trays look heavy.”
“Isa, this one has something to say to you…” Sabrina says on her way to the bar.
Isa raises a brow at me and says, “My stomach is full and my feet are sore and I’m on my way home. Give me the condensed version.”
“I’m sorry I was a lying asshole, and I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Mm-hmm.” She stretches her neck and heads for the door. “Make sure it doesn’t.”
No idea who’s taken over security duties on the door. But Mac is now standing on the small stage doing karaoke. “Little Red Corvette” by Prince is his choice of song tonight. He really does enjoy anything vaguely to do with cars. And before him, Carter performed “A Bar Song (Tipsy)” by Shaboozey.
Nash is too busy living his best life to perform.
He was getting down on the dance floor with Grandma to some Willie Nelson.
But now he’s behind the bar helping Rose keep up with demand.
Opening bottles of beer and loading dirty glasses into the washing machine and fetching ice and so on.
The man seems to be genuinely having the time of his life, if his broad smile is anything to go by.
It wouldn’t surprise me if this isn’t the only occasion on which he takes over the bar and throws an all-expenses-paid party for locals. He’s in his element.
The food truck is located near the front door in the crowded parking lot. Before I can offer my help with handing out food, however, a man around my age wearing a suit appears at my side. He really doesn’t fit in with the general dress code.
He gives me a serious nod and says, “Ma’am?”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Farmer would like a word with you.”
And huh, yeah, I know the name. “Farmer’s here?”
The man nods toward a shiny black Cadillac SUV parked in the back corner.
It was probably the one space they could find.
And thank goodness the jerk didn’t invite himself inside.
Nash is enjoying himself and doesn’t need his night trashed by corporate bloodsuckers.
Keeping Farmer out here and away from Nash and the party is my number one priority.
I follow the driver over to the vehicle and wait as he opens one of the back doors. Then he waves his hand, inviting me inside where an older man sits waiting. And it’s a nope from me. “Call me overly cautious, but we can have this conversation out here in the open.”
Such a disconcerted sigh from Farmer. Like how dare I inconvenience him. However, he opens the door and steps out of the vehicle and walks around to me. He’s normal height and weight with a head of gray hair and a knowing grin. And he’s wearing designer chinos and a polo shirt.
“June Calloway, I presume? It’s nice to finally meet you. You know, Carrie described you differently.”
“Smart of you not to bring her.”
He clicks his tongue. “Your tone of voice. There’s no need for animosity, June. May I call you June?”
“Sure,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest. It’s an obvious defensive manner but such is life. “What do you want?”
“To help Aaron.”
I snort. “Try again.”
“June…”
“He neither wants nor needs your help. And I don’t see that changing anytime soon.”
He spreads his hands and asks, “How are you enjoying your new car? Is it comfortable?”
“Do you want it back?”
“Absolutely not.” His smile is so smarmy.
I don’t even know how to make a facial expression look so fraudulent.
This man is stellar at it. Just next level.
Like give him an award already. “I understand you’re loyal to Aaron and I appreciate that.
It’s great to see him with someone as steady as yourself at his side. ”
“Mm.”
“This is an industry of ups and downs. The only sure thing in music, and any of the creative arts, is that things are going to change. It would be a great shame if by stepping back and taking a breather from his relationship with the company, Aaron lost a large part of his listening base,” says Farmer.
“Many artists have difficulty coming back from hiatus and find it nearly impossible to reach their former levels of success. His lifestyle might not seem as extravagant as some…but I assure you it needs a dependable income to support it.”
“How long did you practice this speech? Just out of curiosity.”
His laughter is empty. There’s no other word to describe it.
“I’m sorry to say, you’re not the first person I’ve had this conversation with.
Artists are temperamental and flighty and prone to extremes.
But regular people like you and me…we can see things for how they really are.
That a successful, ongoing career like his needs stability and regular releases to keep his audience engaged. ”
“I’m sure you’re right,” I say. “What a shame there’s no one to talk him into signing again with you…”
“They’d be a very wealthy person if they did.
That’s the other thing about people like Aaron.
Their focus tends to stray so easily. I’m sure your grandma warned you about his dating history.
It honestly makes me blush. I wish I had half his stamina.
” This guy couldn’t get more gross if he tried.
“There are pages and pages of photos online of him with various partners over the years. It must be daunting to know he’s dated such beautiful, successful, and famous women.
And I’m sure they all thought it was true love and his interest in them would last forever. ”
And I say nothing. Just a whole heaping lot of it.
“Becoming accustomed to the lifestyle being with him affords you would be foolish,” he says. “Think about it, June. You could just about write your own check if you help me. Buy your own piece of property in town and settle down. Be a homeowner. You wouldn’t have to answer to anybody.”
“Is that everything?” I ask. “That’s the whole speech?”
He holds his hands open. As if he’s something even remotely resembling an honest man.
“You need to go now. I don’t want your presence ruining tonight for him.”
His smile is all sharp teeth as he passes me his business card. The dude is so shady. “Just think about it.”
I shove the card in my jeans pocket and head back to the food truck.
Enough of the company’s shenanigans. Spending even a small amount of time with the suit makes me feel dirty.
Like I should wash myself in bleach or something.
No idea how Nash managed to work with him for so long.
But I don’t blame him for wanting out. What a creepy-as-fuck individual.
“Let me grab that,” I say, reaching for the tray of tacos waiting on the counter.
Carmen smiles. “I was just about to take them inside.”
“I can do it.”
And I don’t see Angus quietly smoking a joint near the corner of the building. However, he most definitely saw me, and my meeting with Farmer.