I muttered, dragging a hand down my face, “I didn’t run her off.”
“You think she’s cute?” Magnolia asked, popping up from behind the beer chest.
Lee laughed. “She’s adorable, Maggie. Does that make you mad?”
Magnolia didn’t say a word. She threw her hands toward the ceiling like she was hoping the universe might beam her out of the conversation entirely. I was genuinely hoping for the same to happen to me.
Sutton squirmed in her seat, her iced coffee puddle stretching across the bar. At least it gave me something to wipe up. “Okay, but like… did we get any good gossip out of her? What’s she really doing here? And are Jordan and Doyle actually thatperfect, or do they lock themselves in the penthouse at night and bathe in salmon sperm to keep that youthful glow?”
Everyone turned slowly to look at her.
“What?” Sutton blinked, all innocence. “It’s all over the internet. It’s the new fountain of youth.”
Lee choked on his beer. Magnolia blinked like she was reconsidering every life choice that had led her here. I stared at Sutton, completely unamused.
“You scare me,” I said.
“Rightfully so,” she replied, taking a slow sip of her coffee.
Lee lifted his hand like he was about to make a toast. “Well, this isn’t exactly gossip, but I heard Doyle and Jordan mention it at brunch a few weeks ago—and it was confirmed when I ended up at the hospital with her last night.”
Sutton’s eyebrows shot up. Magnolia paused mid-wipe on the bar.
“The baby’s father kind of ghosted her after a… situationship.” He cringed. “I can’t believe I just used those two words in a sentence.”
I winced. That was… brutal.
Sutton let out a soft, “Yikes.”
Magnolia muttered under her breath, and I caught enough to know it wouldn’t make the Sunday bulletin.
Lee ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Anyway, I don’t know the whole story. But it sounded like she’s been through it. And now she’s here, alone, trying to figure things out.”
“She’s a photographer, you know,” Magnolia said, reaching for a wine glass. “I was thinking about asking your momma if she could shoot that pre-holiday charity event we’ll all be at. It’ll give her a chance to meet people and maybe soften Doyle up a little.”
Lee perked up. “Jordan said the same thing last night. Said she’s the real deal. Apparently, she’s done work in like a dozen countries—photojournalism, weddings, travel stuff. Hesaid there’s this one shot she took in a monsoon, of a bride laughing barefoot in the rain, and it went viral. Got picked up by a few magazines. He showed me her site—her photos don’t just look good, they make youfeel. Like she sees things most people miss.”
Magnolia’s brows lifted. “So why isn’t she doing that now?”
Lee shook his head. “Jordan’s not sure. Said she was bouncing from country to country, gig to gig, and then… she just stopped. Went back to New York, picked up some odd jobs. Started doing local stuff again. He said it seemed like something happened, but she never really talked about it.”
Magnolia let out a low whistle. “That’s a hell of a pivot. Bet we can guess what that something was that happened.”
It was one thing to be new in town—jobless, pregnant, clearly hanging on by a thread. But to hear she’d been all over the world, then went back to New York and somehow landed here in Savannah, alone, after some guy bailed on her completely? That kind of hurt didn’t bruise. It left a mark you couldn’t scrub out.
The guilt hit fast and searing, gnawing at the edges of my conscience. I stepped out from behind the bar and started pacing, dragging a hand through my hair like that might help untangle whatever was clawing at my chest.
“I should apologize,” I muttered, mostly to myself. “How do I always end up looking like the asshole?”
Sutton tilted her head, eyes narrowing like she was clocking a new development. “Oh my God. Is Charlie Pruitt actually making this about himself for once?”
Lee let out a low, slow laugh. “Maybe,” he said, careful now, like he knew he was edging into dangerous territory, “You’re not the asshole. Maybe you’re mad because she got under your skin, and you’re not used to people doing that.”
I stopped at the front of the bar, leaning on the edge of a worn barstool. “You realize you’re trying to give me advice in my ownsister’s bar, standing exactly two feet from the spot where you shattered her heart and ran off to Nashville, right?”
He lifted his beer and grinned, shooting an unbothered wink at my sister. “And yet here we are.”
I didn’t say anything after that, mostly because I didn’t have a comeback that didn’t sound like a tantrum.
