Chapter 7
Wesley
I fucked up last night.
Drinking at the fundraiser, causing a scene, choking Jackson …
Yeah, not my finest moment. And I didn’t stop there.
The urge to wreck my life had reared its ugly-ass head.
Instead of taking the L and going to bed, I grabbed the fifth of cognac and drowned my sorrows.
While I’d stopped short of taking home some random woman at the bar, I’d still done enough to find my activities on IG.
Ms. Tea’s early morning post had skewered me over hot coals for my reckless actions. And I couldn’t even be mad at her. I knew better, and I still fucked up.
The hot water rained down my back as I stood in the shower, as every small detail of the night replayed in my mind.
Crazy looks from appalled guests at the fundraiser, Granny’s disappointed eyes, the feeling of walking a plank as I was escorted from the room, Uncle John’s knowing smirk on my way out …
But it was that short conversation with Albany on the bench that stuck out to me.
For the first time since she’d returned to town, she wasn’t angry with me.
She wasn’t there to twist the knife. Instead, she’d applied a salve of sorts, with her soft laugh and concerned eyes.
It felt like a glimpse of sun on an overcast day, and I appreciated her for it.
Ultimately, it didn’t prevent the wrong decision to go to the bar, but it helped.
The water ran cold, interrupting my thoughts. Shit.
Grabbing a towel, I exited the shower, dried off, and wrapped it around my waist. I milled around the closet for a while, mulling my day. Work? Home? Work at home. Decision made, I dropped the towel and slipped on a pair of joggers.
On my way to the kitchen, I grabbed my phone and sent a message to my assistant letting her know I wasn’t coming to the office but would be online if she needed me.
Then I started an email to Granny. Except I couldn’t find the words to make anything I did okay, so I closed the app and opened TikTok.
I’d already listened to Ms. Tea’s latest video, but I was a glutton for punishment, so I did it again.
And again. The comments sometimes gave me a laugh, but this time, I couldn’t find the humor.
It wasn’t even noon, and there were thousands of people weighing in on my character as if they knew me.
Sighing, I stopped scrolling, poured a glass of water, and popped some ibuprofen. That was when I realized I wasn’t alone. I swallowed.
“How long have you been here?”
Granny stared at me, a quizzical look in her brown eyes. She was seated at the kitchen table, a pitcher of water in her hands. “Good thing you emerged when you did. I was on my way to wake you up.”
I gestured toward the pitcher. “With that?”
Standing, she approached me. “Since you like drama, I figured I’d be a little dramatic.”
“Granny, I—”
“Don’t bother,” she commanded, refilling my empty glass with more water. “I don’t need another apology, Wes. I need you to do better.” The teakettle whistled behind me. “Have a seat.”
The room descended into tense silence as she cooked a light breakfast. Once she was done, she brought over a plate of dry toast, an egg, and black tea.
“Eat,” she ordered, sitting across from me.
It didn’t take long to finish the food on my plate, but when I was done, I said, “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I am sorry.”
She tilted her head. “Are you, really?”
Shame settled in my gut. “I am.”
“What’s the reason for your behavior this time? Sad? Angry? What is it?”
I shrugged. “I don’t have an excuse, Granny. I fucked up.”
“You definitely did,” she agreed. “I’m just trying to figure out why. You’ve had so many chances to get this right.” Reaching out, she squeezed my hand. “You’re excellent at your job, intelligent, intuitive … yet you still engage in these shenanigans.”
“I don’t know why,” I admitted.
“You need to figure it out. If that means therapy, make the damn call.”
It wasn’t the first time she’d mentioned seeing a professional.
I’d resisted because I felt like I didn’t need a stranger to tell me what I already knew.
My life was a series of unfortunate events.
No matter how many strides I made, there was always a part of me that felt like I didn’t deserve happiness, that I didn’t deserve success. I didn’t know how to change that.
Her expression softened. “I want you to win.” Her chin trembled. “I want you to be better than him.”
This conversation had suddenly taken a turn that I wasn’t prepared for. I had no doubt that Granny loved my father, but she rarely talked about “him” like this. The tears standing in her eyes, the way her shoulders fell … The display of emotion was surprising because she rarely let her mask slip.
“Your father destroyed his life,” she continued.
“He destroyed our lives,” I corrected.
She shook her head. “No, he didn’t. You’re still here. You’re still alive. You still have a chance to do something great.”
My throat burned with unshed tears. “What if I’m not better than him?”
“You are,” she insisted. “I wouldn’t have invested in you like I did if you weren’t.”
Closing my eyes, I let her words wrap around my heart. “I don’t want to let you down.”
“Then don’t.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Bishop Garland has requested a meeting this afternoon. For the record, I have no problem walking away from this deal, and I will, if necessary. I can’t stomach his self-important ass anyway.”
I chuckled.
“I’m not laughing,” she said.
“She approached me.”
Granny held up her hand. “I don’t care. The only thing I care about is what I told you to do. And that’s all you should care about, too.”
“You’re right. I messed up.”
“I hope she was worth it.”
“We didn’t even—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she interrupted. “I told you before, perception is reality. Act accordingly.”
“But that’s bullshit, Granny.”
“It’s business, Wes. What did or didn’t happen doesn’t matter.
Bishop Garland has an image to uphold. His daughter has made herself out to be a beacon of virtue on these internet streets.
Now, you’re the Big Bad Wolf luring Little Red Riding Hood into his clutches.
Which is why I told you to stay away from her. ”
“I can still close the deal, Granny. I—”
“I don’t want you near him right now. Like I said, I’m prepared to walk away from this deal.”
Frowning, I leaned forward. “Why?”
“Because I don’t need him. Batchelor business is good. Thriving. And it’s high time he recognized that. And, frankly, I’m sick of his whole family-matters schtick. I know too much about him to take him seriously.”
Curious, I asked, “What do you know?”
“None of your business.”
“I can still help behind the scenes.”
“No, you can’t. Your behavior at the fundraiser was unacceptable. If I can’t trust you to be decent and sober at a work function, how can I trust you to do your job?”
Ouch.
“As much as I love you, I will fire you and not think twice.”
“You’ve made that very clear,” I said.
“I’m trying to teach you something, son. Learn the lesson.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
She leaned back in her chair. “I saw you talking to Albany.”
Meeting her gaze, I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t elaborate, I asked, “Did she say anything to you?”
Granny smirked. “Oh, she said plenty.”
My stomach roiled as I thought about our interactions before and after the fight. “Are you going to tell me what she said?”
“She quit.”
Confused, I asked, “Her job?”
“Yes.”
“I still don’t understand why you hired her in the first place.”
“She’s good at what she does, and she needs the job. She’s family.”
I snickered. “She can’t stand me.”
Granny swallowed, averting her gaze. “Well, we need to figure out who Ms. Tea is.”
“Hire someone else,” I suggested with a shrug.
“I don’t want to. Albany is the woman for the job.”
“You just told me she quit.”
She stood. “But I’m telling you to hire her back.” She cleared the table, rinsing the dishes and putting them into the dishwasher. “Since you have some time on your hands, I’m putting you in charge of the investigation.”
“No.”
Granny’s eyes flashed to mine. “What did you say?”
I shook my head. “No, Granny. I’m not going to do that.”
“Then, you’re fired.” She shrugged. “It’s that simple.”
“You know I respect you, but Albany has declared that she doesn’t want anything to do with me and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”
With a heavy sigh, she approached me. “Sometimes we have to work with shitty people. Albany knows that.”
“Are you calling me shitty?”
“If the shoe fits.” She laughed, brushing her hand over my cheek. “I’m just kidding. What I meant to say was that we all do things we don’t want to do to get to our end game.”
Granny was up to something. Why was she so intent on hiring Albany back? What was her end game? I had questions, but I knew she wouldn’t answer them. So, I agreed. “I’ll talk to her.”
“Good.” She handed me a folder. “Instructions for you are inside. This is your sole responsibility for the day. I expect you to follow through.” She walked to the door. “Don’t call me until it’s complete.”
Granny didn’t hug me. She didn’t tell me everything would be okay. She didn’t even tell me goodbye. She just left. Even so, I knew that she hadn’t completely given up on me. Yet. And I was determined to make this right. With her. And with Albany.