"Do you mind if I talk to Ms. Sterling alone for a minute, Dexter?"he asks, turning to his friend with a meaningful look.
Dexter nods and stands. "I’ll go hang out in your new office, Mae. Let’s go get dinner at that seafood place you like when you’re done here."
“Sounds good,” I smile as he leaves and closes the door behind him quietly.
Once gone, Cody turns to me with a strange look across his face. "Are you two friendly?"
I offer a nonchalant shrug. "Dexter and I have known each other for years," trying to downplay our relationship, though Cody's scrutinizing gaze makes me feel as though he can see straight through what I’m holding back on saying.
Finally, Cody nods, apparently satisfied with my response, though the way he folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair feels a little too casual. Too comfortable, like he’s settling in for a long conversation I’m not sure I want to have.
“It’s amazing to see you, Mae,” he says, his voice softening just a fraction. “Though I’ll admit, I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again after we parted ways, I always hoped that we would. You really didn’t know it was me you were meeting with today?”
I shake my head, keeping my expression neutral even as my chest tightens. “I had no idea. Dexter never told me your name. He made the appointment under his own with my assistant to keep things discreet. Normally, we wouldn’t allow that, but as you can see, Dexter and I go back, and he gets away with a lot,” I explain.
Cody’s eyes narrow slightly at the mention of Dexter, and it’s impossible not to notice the tension that settles over him.
“Let me guess—he didn’t mention my name to you, either?” I ask, raising a brow.
“No,” Cody admits, his tone tinged with something I can’t quite place. “He just told me you were a good friend of his andsomeone who’s helped him out of more than a few jams. The name Sterling didn’t click, but now I see it’s… a name you came up with.”
The observation isn’t harsh, and it’s accurate, but the way he says it feels like there’s more he wants to know.
“Dexter mentioned you two met in college and played football together? I didn’t realize you were in the NFL.”
“Yeah,” he says with a small nod, his tone easy, like this is just another casual conversation. “Briefly. I went to Michigan State on a football scholarship and got drafted by theBirdsshortly after graduation. But on a weekend trip to Nashville, I got a little too drunk, ended up doing karaoke at some hole-in-the-wall bar, and caught the attention of a country music artist who happened to be there. I adlibbed a song, he liked what he heard, and asked me to write lyrics for him. Two years later, I signed withNashville Cowboy Records. Dropped the NFL. Now I’ve got my first big U.S. tour coming up in a few months.”
He says it like it’s no big deal, like it’s just a logical progression of events, but I can’t help the flicker of admiration that rises in me. Cody’s always had a gift with words. I remember him and his twin brother making up songs on the spot, guitars in hand, their harmonies filling the humid Texas nights.
“Impressive,” I say, keeping my tone measured even as memories of those younger, simpler days creep in. I make a mental note to look up his music later, curious to hear how his voice has evolved from the songs he used to sing that were just for me.
“What about you?” he asks, leaning forward slightly. “We lost track of each other after… you know.”
Lost track of each other? No, Cody, we were torn apart, and you were fine with it after that final summer we spent together the year we graduated. My parents had been true to their word, sending me to San Angelo Highschool instead where I didn’t graduate as valedictorian much to their obviousdisappointment. And after graduation, Cody had stuck true to his. We spent that last summer together working at the rodeo again and hooking up shamelessly ever night, only to fall apart when we both left separately for college.
I swallow hard, forcing the bitterness back down. “What I said when I walked in just about covers it,” I say evenly. “Met my ex-husband, Vance, as soon as I got to Texas State. Got pregnant accidentally. Married him when my parents insisted, and then he took off right after Elsie was born and we haven’t seen him since. It’s just been me and her the last nine years.”
Cody nods slowly, his eyes still locked on me, learning, studying, appreciating. I squirm in my chair, wishing he wouldn’t look at me like he knows me. Wishing I didn’t miss the way we used to be. Clearing my throat, I shift the conversation back to safer ground—business.
“So, Cody,” I say, tapping my pen against the edge of my tablet, “why don’t you tell me what brings you here today?”
Besides dragging up memories I thought I’d buried for good…
Chapter 12: Cody
Mae Beaumont—or Mae Sterling now.
The name change catches my attention. It doesn’t surprise me, though. If there’s one thing that I still know about Mae, it’s that she’s always been eager to carve out her own identity, separate from the weight of her family’s name and everything it stands for except back then, she hadn’t known how to make that happen. A part of me feels relieved she didn’t go back to the Beaumont name—like it’s a quiet rebellion she always wanted and finally followed through on.
The days that I’d known her, she’d been an eighteen-year-old beauty, all soft curves and quiet grace. Blonde hair that brushed her shoulders and blue eyes that sparkled like sunlight hitting the pond at Ashwood Ranch where I grew up. She’d been my cousin Georgia’s best friend, and the only person capable of taming her razor-sharp wit and cutting tongue with peace. Mae, by contrast, had been kind, quiet, a bit naïve, soft-spoken, and completely shackled by her parents’ money.
Did I mention she was also the first girl I ever loved?
Now, that eighteen-year-old is gone. In her place stands a woman who radiates confidence, whose presence demands I don’t look away. That blonde hair is styled in soft waves that frame her face and fall just above her breastbone. The tailoredsuit she’s wearing fits her curves like a glove, and the jade earrings dangling from her ears highlight the green flecks in her blue eyes—eyes that still, somehow, manage to knock the breath out of me.
And then there are her lips. Glossed, pink, and a little too distracting to look at for long. My gaze dips briefly—just the slightest hint of cleavage peeks out from the top of her blouse. She’s filled out since the last time I saw her, the softness of her youth replaced by a mature and strong woman.
I’d convinced myself I’d forgotten her years ago, forced myself to push the memories of our last summer together to the back of my mind. And it worked, for a little while. I told myself it could’ve never lasted—that as long as Mae let her parents control her with their wealth, there was no future for us. But standing here now, looking into those familiar, piercing eyes, the past is flooding back in sharp detail.
