“Oh,shoot!” she said with a glance at her watch before she spun on her heels to snatch her purse from the side table in the living room. “I’m late to pick up Ava and Ella. I gotta run. Which means you do too.”
She practically shoved him out of the house, the screen door slamming behind them both as she ushered him down the front porch steps. “You’ll have to forgive me for bein’ rude, but I—”
“Love bein’ rude to me?”
“Now you’re just testin’ my patience.”
“One of my favorite pastimes, princess, it’s true.” He pulled his keys from his pocket and spun them around his finger. “You’ll let me know about my proposition?”
“Huh? Oh yeah, sure.” She nodded, then hustled over to her car, an old Honda sedan that’d seen better days and was a far cry from the Land Rover she used to roll around town in. With one last glance at him over her shoulder, she slid into the driver’s seat and didn’t wait for him to leave before she sped off down the long driveway.
Nash watched her go until the dirt had settled on the road. Then he pocketed his keys, climbed the steps of the porch, and let himself into her house. He was really going to have to talk to her about locking up. While Havenbrook wasn’t exactly a den of sin, he didn’t like the idea of her all the way out here, no neighbors as far as the eye could see, without using a lock to keep her safe.
But he could do that some other time. First, he had some spiders to take care of.
Rory wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to being alone. After ten years of near-constant pleas from her daughters for her attention, suddenly having it gone—poof—was jarring, to say the least. It’d been four months since she’d moved out of the house she’d shared with Sean, but the days and nights Ava and Ella were with their father hadn’t gotten any easier. To go from being with them every day…tucking them in every night…to only seeing them Wednesdays, Thursdays, and every other weekend was upsetting. And painful.
Thank heaven for her sisters.
Just a year ago, she’d never dreamed of uttering those words. Rory and her sisters had never been particularly close or seen eye to eye. Will and Mac had always been tight, their small age gap ensuring that, whereas Rory and Nat had been the outliers. Nat with her wild ways, and Rory with her…perfection.
Perfection didn’t afford her a lot of friends.
Turned out she had exceptionally high standards and expected a lot out of people. Probably more than she should. It was something she was working on. Along with a laundry list of items she needed to forget about, which was where the margarita in her hand came into play.
She, Will, and Mac were settled in Mac’s living room, the only safe space between the three of them. If they went to Will’s place, they’d have to deal with Finn buzzing around like a fly, constantly attempting to steal kisses and make sex eyes at Will. And Rory’s house? It was still a work in progress—one she desperately needed to get away from once in a while just to save her sanity. And despite having her sisters there to fill up the void left by her daughters being gone, it still didn’t feel like a home when they were away.
“What are we drinkin’ to forget tonight, bitches?” Mac asked, settling in an overstuffed chair.
Will raised her glass between them. “I don’t know about y’all, but I’m drinkin’ to forget the usual. Another meeting with Daddy.” She shook her head, eyes rolling to the ceiling as if to ask God to give her strength. “Just when I think he’s gettin’ better, he goes and does something completely asinine, makin’ me contemplate slippin’ prune juice into his coffee.”
Mac snorted as Rory shifted in her seat. She was getting used to the trash talk—though she certainly wasn’t going to partake—openly, anyway. Growing up under the same roof, they’d all been taught never to question or disobey their daddy’s directives. While, sure, Rory had done so in her head a million times, she’d never dreamed of speaking them aloud. It was all part of that perfection she strived toward, no matter that her daddy never seemed to notice it.
“What’d he do now?” Mac asked.
“Oh, the usual.” Will blew a breath to the ceiling. “He had a meeting with one of the town councilpeople, and he kept buzzin’ my intercom, demanding I bring ’em coffee, then donuts, then he ordered me to take notes when he knew damn well I had a full schedule today. Never mind that he has not one buttwoassistants now.” She lifted her chin in Rory’s direction. “Daddy doesn’t care. Swear he does it just to rile me up. He knows as soon as the Fourth is over, I dive right into plannin’ the Fall Festival, and it takes up all my time. He just set out to be a royal pain in my ass because I pushed back on his suggestion to restore Great-Grandpappy’s statue outside the courthouse.”
Mac furrowed her brow. “Why would he want to do that? It looks brand-new.”
“Exactly!” Will threw her hand up in a clear display of exasperation. “It’s still pristine, and we could use the money he wants to allocate for that to restore the crumbling gazebo in the Square, or replace the cracked marble in the entrance to town hall, or repave Main Street. There are a dozen other things I could think of to spend that money on instead of making Great-Grandpappy look exactly the same.”
“He’s an overgrown toddler, I swear.” Mac shook her head and sipped her margarita. “I honestly don’t know how you put up with him day in and day out. I’d lose my damn mind.” She slid her eyes to Rory then away. Even though Rory worked with their daddy too, apparently Mac didn’t have a hard time understanding howRorywas able to put up with his nonsense. Probably being as Mac saw them as two peas in a pod.
Which…hurt.
Rory hated—absolutelyhated—working for her daddy. Will’s recollections over the years of what it was like to work for the man were mild in comparison to reality. Not a day spent at town hall went by without Rory screaming into her pillow at night. She’d even gone as far as ordering stress balls with the town’s emblem on them just so she could stuff a few in her desk to squeeze, all to keep from wrapping her fingers around her daddy’s neck instead.
But she had to work there. She didn’t have a choice. Bills were piling up more and more every day. She’d already given up her house to her ex—the one she’d designed every nook and cranny of, had poured her heart and soul into for the past eleven years. The one in which both of her girls had lived every single day of their lives. That hurt the most. But it turned out being an attorney paid a hell of a lot more than being a stay-at-home mom. Who knew?
Rory’s college degree served her as nothing more than a nice wall decoration. Just a fancy piece of paper encased in a pretty frame. She’d played the part of the stereotypical sweet Southern wife like she was “supposed” to, popping out babies and then staying at home to take care of them. And though she knew her sisters didn’t understand it, she’d loved doing it. Loved being home with them, watching them grow, and being present for all their firsts.
At least, she had in the beginning.
But for the past couple years, ever since Ella had started kindergarten—which had left Rory’s days open and empty—she’d craved somethingmore.
Trouble was, she hadn’t had a fallout plan.
So she was stuck taking the pity job her daddy had given her, never mind the fact that she didn’t have an ounce of work experience. His assistant, Gloria, had drastically cut her hours since giving birth last year, so she and Rory job-shared. Though, Gloria’s hours seemed to be getting fewer and fewer each month, and Rory’s seemed to grow.
