Shannon O’Conner:Sure. Give me an hour—I need to finish up some work.
As the sun began to set, the office transitioned into its after-hours rhythm. I wrapped up composing my last email just as Shannon walked into my office. She moved with unapologetic confidence, going straight to my liquor cabinet. Pulling out two glasses, she grabbed the scotch.
“You know, I never knew what ‘scotch neat’ meant when I was younger,” she said, pouring the amber liquid. “I thought it was a cleaner version of the alcohol.”
I laughed. “Well, they don’t teach us these things in school. They really should.”
She handed me my glass. I took in the way her tight pencil skirt hugged her hips and the way her blouse was unbuttoned just enough to reveal the soft curve of her collarbone, a teasingglimpse of her cleavage. Her perfume, something subtle but intoxicating, drifted toward me.
We clinked glasses, and I leaned back in my chair, taking a slow sip. She moved to the couch, settling in smoothly. Behind her, the warm light from my office lamp cast a soft glow over the small library, where a framed photo of my kids sat next to a signed Scottie Pippen basketball.
She glanced at the picture. “Your kids are cute.”
I wondered if this was the first time she’d really looked at it.
“Thanks,” I said. “Bebe and James.”
She smiled. “Bebe is a very pretty name. Unique.”
“Named after my grandmother, Bea,” I said. “She never got to meet Bebe, but she would’ve loved her. She had all sons, then all grandsons.”
Shannon studied me for a moment. “I like learning about your life. These parts,” she said.
I set my drink down. “What about the other parts?” I asked, unsure where I was going with this.
She swirled the scotch in her glass. “I like most of the parts,” she whispered.
I exhaled, feeling the weight of the moment.
“I like a lot of parts about you, too,” I admitted, finishing off my drink, feeling the burn of the alcohol spread through me.
The atmosphere changed; it felt charged and unspoken.
I walked over to pour myself another glass. “Want another?”
“I shouldn’t,” she murmured. She stood up and handed me her glass, but she didn’t step back. Instead, she moved in closer, so close I could smell a mix of jasmine and some classic perfume.
She licked her lips, her dark eyes holding mine.
“It’s too bad,” she said softly.
Then, just like that, she turned and walked out.
Leaving me with those three words.
CHAPTER 34
IN THE PENALTY BOX
WILL
It was Sunday, the day of Bebe’s party. I’d been up since sunrise, trying to shake the restless feeling that had settled in my gut. I was going to be at Natalie’s home with her husband.
Madison was grounded for drinking on Friday night, so she wasn’t going to the barn to ride after all. Instead, she was at home with her brothers, holed up in her room while Chase and Carter ignored her drama and buried themselves in video games.
I stood in the kitchen, drinking coffee. Ivy sat at the counter, swinging her little feet and clutching the birthday card she made for Bebe.
“Did you remember the present?” she asked, her tone suspicious, as if I couldn’t be trusted.
