“I didn’t want more children with an asshole that refused to marry me! You used me.”
“We. Are. Done.” Any other response to that will put me in a deep hole I can’t dig out of with even the best lawyers.
Connie recognizes the resolution in my tone, and her body language relaxes, her voice lowering. She knows she’s gone too far. I never hid that I wasn’t marrying her. After all I’d been through, the thought never crossed my mind. Everyone in her family put the pressure on, but when my blinders were lifted, it was never going to happen. Unfortunately for me, Connie didn’t take the rejection well.
“Pierce, she broke you. I was there for everything and saw the wreckage. I sent her those announcements as revenge for you—”
“Bye, Connie.” This time, I get into my house and slam the door.
She can scream all she wants, but I head to my room, ready to punch something. Miller walks into my bathroom right as I switch on the shower, and he’s holding out a fresh beer.
“Get the whiskey,” I order. “When I’m out of the shower, we’re gonna talk. And make sure that bitch is gone.”
He nods and disappears. I have no shame in sinking to the shower seat and letting the cool water beat down on me. Darby’s face pops into my head. Even with everything that’s happened, the thought of her has the ability to calm me after the shit show I’ve made of my life.
I’m fucked.
Chapter 6
Darby
I shouldn’t find it at all surprising that my public appearance at the hospital and the news of my business brought in a lot of attention. Add in the arrival of Stephanie, and my quiet little routine in Charleston was flipped on its head. Mom’s phone was blowing up, and she was all too eager to boast about my success.
And that is why Stephanie and I are staked out in my mom’s kitchen, staring in horror.
“I need you to throw up,” I whisper to Stephanie.
“Why?”
“We need an immediate excuse to leave.”
“Why don’t you throw up then?”
“Because Cruella De Vil will hand me a Pepto and tell me to freshen up. At least, if it’s you, she’ll have the manners to let us go. Once we get to the shed, we can grab Runner and escape.”
“My gag reflexes don’t work that way.”
“Ugh,” I groan, taking a huge swallow of my beer.
“Annie seems to have bounced back quite well. The way you were after her accident, I wasn’t sure what her recovery would be like.”
“Apparently, even the devil wasn’t ready for her yet.”
She bursts into laughter, nudging my shoulder with her own, well aware of the dynamics of Mom’s and my relationship. Tonight is a perfect example. Mom sweet-talked us into joining her and Lynda for cocktails. She claimed it was a celebration of her being officially cleared off all medications. Since it’s Friday night and Stephanie and I would most likely be drinking wine and gossiping at my place, we agreed.
Annie Graham conned me. She lied to her own daughter.
What was supposed to be a small gathering has turned into over a dozen women mingling around Mom’s living room. My nerves are on overload because each glance they throw my way is filled with curiosity. The questions are coming. They’re being polite, but no doubt they’re ready to pounce.
“We’re going to need something stronger than beer if we’re going to survive a night with these ladies.”
She goes to the bar, grabbing the bottle of vodka.
“Make mine a double,” I instruct, ready to armor up for the night.
“I’ll have what she’s having.” The low, sweet voice behind me immediately sends goosebumps over my skin.
I spin, coming face to face with the only other woman on this earth I wanted to call Mom. “Jill,” barely comes out on a whisper, my throat closing. Before I can stop them, tears pool in my eyes and she becomes blurry.
“My Darby.” She moves forward, then pauses, looking for approval.
I make the move, falling into her. She wraps her arms tight, embracing me warmly. “Oh, how I’ve missed my beautiful girl,” she murmurs into my ear. “Still the prettiest girl in the world.”
I choke back a sob, trembling from head to toe. Her hands rub up and down my back soothingly. It takes a few minutes for me to gain my composure, and she fully supports me, holding on until I’m ready to raise my head.
“I missed you, too, Jill. So much.”
She gives me a sad smile, squeezing once. There’s a muffled sniff behind me, and I turn to see my mom at Stephanie’s side, both with wet, glistening eyes. Then I turn to find everyone staring. That’s when I realize that all these ladies were keeping their distance for this reason. They were waiting for Jill to come in and break the ice.
Shame and guilt slam into me, and panic claws up my chest. I know for a fact that everyone thinks I left Charleston because of a huge argument and break-up with Pierce. They think I was running from a broken heart and acting on immaturity. It killed my family not to set the record straight, but my privacy was the priority.
I glance back to Jill and suck in a deep breath, praying my knees don’t give out. Without hearing the words, her eyes communicate her understanding. “You know why, don’t you?”
She nods.
Losing my baby put me on the verge of a breakdown, and I needed to deal. Unfortunately, I lost a lot more.
“I don’t know the intimate details, but I know it’s time to heal. Let it go,” she says so only I can hear.
I blow out a long breath, step out of her hold, and swipe at my cheeks. “It’s good to see you.”
“Did you say you were making drinks, dear?” Jill speaks to Stephanie, who quickly goes back to what she was doing.
“I’ll do my best to protect you from these inquiring minds, but promise me you’ll call or come see me soon. You have grown into a truly striking woman and, from what I hear, a big success. I want to know all about it. Pierce wasn’t the only one who loved you and lost you.”
“I promise.” Emotions threaten to resurface, so I clear my throat a few times and throw my mom a look to do something.
She picks up on the message. “Darby, can you check the appetizers in the oven and grab the trays from the refrigerator?”
“Sure, hope everyone is hungry,” I announce loudly in the bubbliest voice I can muster up.
Stephanie hands Jill a drink and turns to the group, introducing herself. Thankfully, this douses any tension, and the room erupts in conversation. I do as my mom asked, happy for the few minutes to gather myself together.
Stephanie brings me a drink, clinking her glass to mine, and smiles reassuringly. “Drink up.”
“Nothing like liquid encouragement to help rip off the Band-aid.”
“I’ve got your back.”
“Let’s do this.”
She trails me into the living room where we are swept up in the group. Luckily, Lynda starts a conversation about my business, which keeps the focus of questions on DG Creations.
Most of these women knew I was always into baking and chocolate creations, so it’s easy for me to talk about. I glaze over the details of leaving, simply saying that Charlotte had an opportunity for me. Then I go on to explain the process of building my business. DG Creations is a small outfit, but it’s financially solid.
Stephanie gushes about my reputation in Charlotte, which prompts Mom to jump in and prattle about my increasing popularity in Charleston. It becomes apparent Mom is embellishing and trying to overstate my status, but I let her go on because it’s becoming hilarious.
Stephanie’s face turns a deep shade of pink as she tries to hold back her laughter. I do the same until a very unladylike snort escapes.
“Darby Rose! Stop acting like a fool.”
“Stop exaggerating. I bake goodies. It’s hardly going to solve world peace.”
She opens her mouth to argue, but Mrs. Winkle beats her to it. “I don’t know about that. I heard the nurses talking about the choco
lates you delivered. They went a long way in helping keep the peace at the hospital between the nurses and the administrators, who were at odds about schedule changes.”
“I will admit that chocolate has magic powers, but so do nice gestures. That’s all this was; the administrators did a nice gesture.”
“You would certainly provide peace in my household if you’d chat with my husband about putting your desserts in his restaurant,” Sandra Rosen pipes up.
“We have a meeting next week, Mrs. Rosen. I’m not able to provide large scale desserts right now, but I am going to give him some options.”
“Thank you, Jesus. He’s been griping about getting your toffee bars since he tasted one.” She fans her face dramatically.
“Toffee bars are excellent, but the truffles will blow the roof off,” Stephanie adds, winking at me.
My truffles are good, but she’s an advocate because they bring in my largest profit margin. Since I make them with a specialty chocolate blend that is a secret recipe, we are able to set the price higher. They also take me days to finish.
“I’ve had your truffles. Of course, I didn’t know at the time they were yours. I picked one up at Billy’s place,” Mrs. Asly boasts. “It was to die for.”
“Thank you.”
Out of the corner of my eyes, something flashes, and I look in time to catch Jill dabbing at the corner of her eye with a small smile on her lips. Pride is written on her expression. “Proud of you,” she mouths.
My heart swells, and I return her smile. She and I will never have what we once did, and that hurts. But for now, this is enough.
•—•—•—•—•
I wait with bated breath for someone to break the silence with any kind of reaction on my announcement that I’ve received an acquisition offer for DG Creations. Stephanie had the foresight to bring a few copies of the proposal, and Evin is reading through one, his eyes moving rapidly over the pages. He flips through and jerks his face to mine when he finds what any financial advisor and portfolio manager would be searching for.
“Is this solid?” His question is aimed at Stephanie.
“Solid as a rock. I’ve gone back and forth with the lead corporate lawyer for a while, tweaking. Best- and worst-case scenarios have been negotiated down to the minutest details.” She transforms from the supportive, laid-back friend to the high demand, sharp-witted lawyer. “It’s taken months of fine-tuning, but Darby and I felt the last round of changes were sufficient.”
His gaze slowly moves to me, and I clasp my hands together tighter, swallowing hard. Hurt and confusion are plain in his expression.
“Don’t be upset.” I direct the statement at him but glance at my parents quickly and then back to him. “I’m still not sure this is the right move for me. It’s a huge decision.”
“That’s an understatement. Guess this explains all the changes—the hair, the clothes, the new car. Not to mention the willingness to up and leave your existence in Charlotte without even a second thought. You’ve been contemplating this for months. We’re a fly-by stop in your journey.”
“Don’t be a jerk, Evin. You know that’s not true. I still haven’t signed the papers. It’s not a done deal.”
“Why not, Darby? This offer sets you up financially, possibly for life. I may not know the legal side of things, but I’m intelligent enough to know Stephanie has taken every step to make sure you are protected.”
“It’s not about the money. You, of all people, know I’m doing fine on my own.”
“Why not sign the papers?”
“Because DG Creations is my life.”
“No, DG Creations is your expertise. You, Darby Graham, get to choose your life.”
“To me, it’s one in the same.”
“What I want to know is how this came about? Since the inception of DG Creations nine years ago, you’ve refused to even have a storefront. Now, you may be joining forces with an exclusive hotel and resort chain?” Mom slides her copy of the proposal to the middle of the table, not bothering to open it.
“It’s a case of being in the right place at the right time. I was hired to cater the desserts for an event last winter. One of the executives from Brasher Resorts was impressed and contacted me through the event planner. It started with a few innocent conversations, and when it got serious, I pulled Stephanie in.”
“And you’d have to move to Colorado?” Dad asks.
“They want me at their largest resort in Aspen to start.”
“What happens after Aspen?”
“If this goes as planned, we’ll look at relocating me to the next resort.”
“How will that work? You can’t be in two places at once?”
My heart pounds harder, and the sick feeling of uncertainty settles deep in my stomach when I think about this part of the deal. “I’ll have to train staff at each location. Part of the expansion would require me to teach others my recipes.”
An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air, and I mentally note the questions running through their minds.
“It’s not that DG Creations is your life; it’s the fact that, once you sign those papers, you are handing it over?” Dad says as more of a question.
“That’s what it feels like. But the other part is what if it fails? What if the idea bombs? Aspen will be the pilot program, and I’ll be managing the whole process. Guests of this resort are high-rollers, and I’m a small-time girl—”
“Stop,” Evin rumbles. “Don’t diminish your self-worth. You’ve run a successful business for almost a decade. Being from a small town has nothing to do with your talent.”
“What do you think I should do, Evin?”
He drops back in his chair and focuses on the ceiling, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth. Stephanie’s hand squeezes my knee under the table in support, urging me to say more.
“I value your opinions. It’s one of the many reasons I’ve held off on signing the papers.”
“It all seems pretty straight forward. Brasher Resorts wants to buy your brand and own the rights to distribute and sell. It’s an incredibly lucrative offer.”
“It is,” I agree.
“You know, if this was local, or even along the east coast, I’d hand you my pen to sign these papers right now. It sucks you’ll be across the country.”
“Think of it this way; I’ll finally get to put my hospitality and management degree to use. You’ve always said Mom and Dad wasted their money on tuition since I decided to be a baker.”
He cracks a small grin at our long-running joke. “Yeah, it’s about time you use that degree.”
“And I’m pretty sure that, buried deep somewhere in the articles of that contract, there is a family and friends discount clause for when you come to visit.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” His grin disappears, and his expression grows somber again. “In all seriousness, I’m proud of you, Darby. I’d like to look through this more carefully, but if you decide to take them up on their offer, they’re the lucky ones.”
“Thanks,” I reply faintly, my eyes and nose stinging.
“I can help clarify any of the legal questions,” Stephanie offers.
He dips his chin in appreciation.
“I’ll stand by any decision you make,” Dad adds. “I’ve always wanted to visit Aspen.”
“Edward, what the hell am I going to do in Aspen? I doubt I’ll ever ride a horse again. There’s no way I can get on skis,” Mom grumbles.
“Don’t worry, baby. We’ll find something to do to keep busy.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, bringing their linked hand to his lips.
Just like that, the mood in the room changes, and I gag loudly at the same time Evin groans. Stephanie giggles, encouraging them by clapping.
“On that note, we have our own news.” Dad scoots back and gently scoops Mom to sit in his lap. “Do you want to tell them, Annie?”
“I’m not sure it’s the right time. Darby’s bombshell seems to have taken the air out of my
sails.”
Guilt smothers me, and I want to slink out of the room until Dad speaks up, eyeing me with a smile. “Not me. I knew she was world-class. She’s also a smart cookie and will make the right decision. We raised both our children that way. It’s time we drop our own bombshell.”
She grasps his cheeks, kisses him softly, and then turns to us, beaming. “Edward and I are back together. He’s moving home.”
My jaw drops, but out of the corner of my eye, I catch Stephanie leap from her chair and start dancing in a circle. She’s hooting enough to cover Evin and my silence. The shock wears off, and a little scream bubbles out, followed by a hiccup, and tears spring to my eyes. But, for the first time in so long, these are tears of happiness.
“It’s about time.” Evin takes the words right out of my mouth.
I watch my dad cradle Mom close, and a small part of my heart shifts back into place.
Chapter 7
Pierce
Memories bounce in my brain as I stare at the darkened porch that I built for the Grahams. The whole place that Annie liked to refer to as the shed was already built when Darby decided it needed a front porch. Her dad had enough of the construction and cost and told her it wasn’t going to happen. I made it happen, gathering every piece of material myself while bargaining with Miller and Evin to help me finish it.
She loved this shed, claiming it as her own, and I loved being able to give her what she wanted.
Lanterns come to life, illuminating the small area right as the door cracks open, and Darby slips through. Her hair is piled on top of her head, and her face is free of makeup. She comes to the railing wearing a black, silky pajama set that sets my blood on fire. Her nipples are poking through the material, her long legs are on display, her eyes are bright, and I swear I’ve never seen her so beautiful.
“Pierce, do you want to come up?” she calls into the dark quietly, not at all surprised I am here.
I take a few steps forward, sliding my hands into my jeans. “How’d you know it was me?”
She doesn’t answer, giving the welcome hand gesture and disappearing behind the door again to leave me alone when I walk onto the porch. A few minutes later, she returns with two mugs of steaming coffee, this time in a robe that’s clinched around her waist.
Pierced Hearts (Southern Charmers Book 1) Page 6
