I pull out the fresh contract from my bag and slap it onto the table. Garrett put it together in forty-eight hours and assured me that it’s iron clad. “For you to sign this.”
With a look at the first page she cocks a brow, unimpressed. “You want me to give up my rights to my portion of Wesley’s earnings. That’s cute and never going to happen. I made him what he is and the least he can do is show me a little gratitude.”
“And what exactly are you hoping to convince him of later, that he should keep making music?”
“Of course. I’ve told him before that you’re a bad influence, and it seems like that hasn’t changed with age.”
I should win an award for the level of self-control it takes for me to not launch myself over the table and grab her by the throat. “You think he would listen? One meal with you and he’d take back his retirement?”
“I know he will. I could tell the entire world about the little scam you’re running. The whirlwind romance designed to cover up a fifteen-year-old mistake. I have a copy of your marriage license to show it. That man would do anything for you, and you never appreciated him. You used him then just like you’re using him now.” The truth laced through her words hits me exactly where she intends it to, and I flinch. From the soft smile on her lips and casual posture, no doubt she thinks she’s taken control over the situation. A mistake.
“He practically begged me to marry him. But that doesn’t fit your delusions does it.” I lean back in my chair. “You’re taking a pretty big risk. What does Wes value more? The relationship he has with me or our reputations?”
A victorious gleam shines in her eyes. “Not his reputation. Yours.” She takes a slow slip, purposefully drawing out the moment. “He’s made the choice before, so it’s not all that farfetched to assume he’d make the same one again.”
“I know, because he trusts me. I know everything, which was helpful when I went to find these.” I pull the thick folder from my bag and set it next to the contract. A few of the papers slip free, fanning out onto the wood. Maddie’s eye twitches, alarm striking through her features for the first time since we’ve sat down. It’s a flicker, but that’s all I need. “It’s really interesting that you bring up reputations. Because a little after Wes fired your ass, magazines were sent all of these images and accounts of things he was getting up to at parties.”
Her gaze narrows, the weight of it causing the air around us to turn stifling. “How did you get these?”
“Last time you played this game, you had more power than we did. That’s no longer the case. People were more than happy to help me out. I’m Avery Sloane, after all. Once we went looking, we found that all the images were sent from your IP address at the time,” I share, far more relaxed now that I’ve played my hand. “The tour is about to end, and I have no problem using my free time to make your life hell. I think I’ll start by telling everyone about the smear campaign you ran against your ex-client. I doubt many people will want to work with someone like that. As for the wedding certificate, what do I care? I’m retiring, and haven’t you been watching the news? I don’t need your help to ruin my reputation; I can do that on my own.”
Her teeth clash together, forcing a smile. “What do you want?”
I push the contract forward. “Just sign this.”
“I’ll have to get my lawyer to look at this.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll do it right here. We even went to the trouble of marking where we need your signatures so it should be quick and easy.”
She struggles to get the ink to flow from a ballpoint before scratching it along line after line. Once done, I check that she hasn’t missed any. With the contract securely tucked in my bag, I move to leave and remember one last important thing I need to say.
“You. Stay. Away. From. Him,” I bite out. “Am I clear? If you’re invited somewhere and think he could show up, you better get on a plane and go to a different state. Really, it would probably be best to avoid Tennessee and New York completely. You don’t talk to him or talk about him.”
“I can’t not go to those places. I have work there.”
She thinks that’s inconvenient? Fuck her. It’s the least she can do to make up for all that Wes had to carry on his own. All the years we lost because of her.
“Not anymore, you don’t. At least, if you want to be allowed to work at all. This isn’t a threat. It’s a warning, the only one you’ll get.” I check my phone. “It looks like I have a few hours to kill before my brunch reservation. I guess I should say thank you for picking somewhere with good food.”
33
Wesley
January 2026
“The reservation should be under Baron.” I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans. Fifteen minutes, in and out. I’ll see what she wants and then put as much distance as I can between us.
Breathe and get through this. I know what’s coming this time.
“This way, please, she’s waiting on you.” The hostess gives me a bright smile.
Already here. At least I won’t have to wait.
I follow her through the restaurant clamoring with families having lively conversations and around the corner to a secluded part of the restaurant, and my pulse quickens. Then I stop dead in my tracks.
“You can’t be here. You have to leave. Avery, please.” I take her hand and try to urge her to get up. It was silly of me to think she’d let me do this alone. She’s been quiet about this situation for days and I thought that meant she accepted my choice. “If Maddie sees you here—” I don’t dare to finish the sentence.
She wasn’t necessarily jealous of Avery, but she saw her as a threat to her hold over me, as the one person who I’d listen to instead of her.
