by Cat Mason
“Family meeting,” Bristol mouths, clearly reading my mind. I nod in agreement.
“I’m sorry to be doing this with you in the hospital. I thought it was important you hear it straight from us first.” Jazz takes the envelope from Cam. Stepping forward, she hands it to Bristol. “After what happened tonight, we’ve decided we had no choice but to reach out to Logan Boyer.”
“Oh.” My stomach drops. Definitely not a baby flutter. “Okay. I see.”
Shit. Fuck. Oh God.
Bristol opens the envelope, her hands shaky. Sliding the papers out into her hand, she skims the first page, her brows knitting together. “I can’t believe you’re doing this,” she mutters, shaking her head in disbelief. “Is this some kind of joke?”
“My kind of joke is replacing Mack’s aspirin with Midol,” Hunter chuckles. “Shaft-style shenanigans don’t involve paperwork and lawyers, sweetheart.”
“Let me see.” Walking toward her, Greer takes the papers from her hand, scanning it quickly. He looks up, shock written all over his face. “They’ve made Boyer an offer. Evil Wiener Productions wants to acquire the rights to represent AWOL. Effective immediately.”
“Can they do that?” Tanner asks, leaping up to look for himself.
“They can do whatever the fuck they want,” Hunter says proudly. “And they do.”
Jazz looks over at her Dad. “Are you talking about yourself in the third person again?” Hand on her hip, she blinks slowly. “Time to start lookin’ at nursing homes.”
“Nursing home my ass,” he fires back. “You’d go crazy without me around.”
She snorts out a laugh. “Because I’m so sane now?”
“Anyway.” Cam clears her throat. “Nothing is final. Essentially, the choice is yours. Logan explained that you’d recently had some issues and requested your current contract be amended with changes you’d given to Miss Brandwell. If we move forward, we’d need assurances that she isn’t part of the package deal.”
“Nope.” Hunter shakes his head. “The Ice Queen is a deal breaker.”
“Hit the brakes.” Tanner looks over at Cam. “Boyer said we requested those changes?”
Cam, Jazz, and Hunter nod in unison. “I take it that’s not how you recall it,” Cam says, reading us well. “That’s actually very interesting, given how adamant he was that you’d reached out about it all to Vicki personally and demanded it happen as soon as possible.”
“Nope,” I reply, worry and confusion giving way to fury. “Not even close to how it really went down.”
“I called that shit out the gate,” Jazz mutters. “Look over those contracts, talk it over. If you have any questions, my phone number is written on the last page. Hopefully you’re on board with putting yourselves in my hands.”
“Yeah.” Greer nearly chokes on his tongue. Fucking pervert. Taking the paperwork before he drops it all on the floor, Tanner claps him on the back. Grabbing the plastic cup from my table, Greer takes a big swig of my ice water. “We’ll talk it out and let you know what we decide.”
Jazz smiles warmly at him. “Sounds good, G.”
“We’re so glad you’re okay, Quinn,” Cam says warmly. “We’ll talk soon. If you need anything before then, we’re just a call away.”
“Thank you.”
After a quick goodbye, along with some very serious, incredibly awkward, eye fucking between my brother and Jazz, they leave us to head back down to where Chase and Aiden are with Vicki and the EWP attorney. Shifting from foot to foot, Tage clears his throat. “I think I’ll go grab a coffee,” he says, glancing Bristol’s way. “Need anything, baby?”
“Does the cafeteria sell vodka?” she mutters, snagging the contracts from Tanner.
Catching her hand, Tage tugs her close. He leans down, pressing his forehead to hers. Her lips pulling into a smile. “I love you,” she whispers against his lips, her body relaxing into his.
“Love you too, baby.” Kissing her softly, he pulls back. “We’ll give you some space to talk this out,” he says, nudging E with his elbow.
“Unnecessary roughness, Crosby,” E says, elbowing him back. “And after I gave you my blessing.”
“Wait, what?” Bristol and I ask in unison. Tage and E jolt. Eyes wide, both men turn to look our way. “Did you say you gave your blessing?” she asks, looking at Evan.
Evan blows out a breath. “Yeah.” Clearly uncomfortable, he yanks a hand through his hair. “Told you guys he showed up at the house. Cryin’ into my last good bottle of booze.”
“I was not crying,” Tage argues. “There was no crying.”
“In my story there is,” Evan clarifies. “In my story you cried like a little bitch, scribblin’ Mr. Tage Lachlan on your notebooks in study hall with glitter gel pens.”
“Yeah.” Tage rolls his eyes. “Not how it went.”
“Are you tellin’ this story?” Evan asks, shooting him a look. “I don’t think so.” He clears his throat, obviously drawing out the suspense like the fucking giant drama whore he is. “Anyway, Denim Dan is violently sobbing into my precious booze. Professing his undying love for all things Bristol. Then, through big fat bitch boy tears, he whips it out and flashes the goods.”
“Fucking hell,” Tage groans, his face turning bright red. “I did not—”
“The ring, perverts,” Evan interrupts, throwing his hand up in Tage’s face. “He said he knows B couldn’t give a shit about him getting her dad’s blessing. Asshole went on and on about how important it would be for them to know they had mine.”
“You said that?” she asks, her fingers wrapping around Tage’s bicep.
Turning to face her, he nods. Tears sting my eyes, one slipping free and sliding down my cheek. “Yeah, I did.” Taking her hand, he presses a kiss beside the ring. “I figure you’re pretty damn important to the guy since he threatened to kill and dismember me if I hurt you before we even had our first couple’s skate.”
“Damn straight,” E says confidently. “My blessing doesn’t void that shit either. Hurt one of my girls, and I’ll have no problem rainin’ down hell.” I don’t miss Evan’s eyes moving to pin Tanner as he continues to speak. “I don’t give a fuck who it is.”
“Shit,” Bristol sniffles. “Someone call that damn doctor back in here. I’m catching emotions.”
Dropping her hand, Tage cups her face. “I’m gonna marry you so hard,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her lips.
A small laugh escapes when she smiles. “You’re damn right you are.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
What the Bluff?
Tanner
“So that’s it then?” Throwing my phone to the foot of Quinn’s bed, I stand and stretch my arms above my head. “We’re doin’ this.”
“Is it that hard to believe?” Quinn asks, handing over the papers to Greer.
“Honestly?” I ask, letting my arms fall to my sides. “I’m surprised we didn’t tackle Jazz and sign the minute she made the damn offer.”
“I’d tackle her,” Greer grunts, slipping the paperwork back into the envelope. Dropping down into the chair beside Quinn’s bed, he stretches out. “And then some.”
“How about we focus on keeping your dick in your pants when it comes to Hunter Chesterfield’s daughter.” Bristol’s tone gets scary low. “Especially since she’s going to be our new manager.”
“I’m in complete control of my dick,” he mutters, eyes closing. “Believe me.”
While inhaling the pizza I ordered, we discussed the purposed offer from Jazz and EWP. Then, since Jazz and Cam also included Logan Boyer’s personal cell phone number in with our paperwork, we decided to give him a call too. The guy sure as hell wasn’t thrilled about the situation, or the fact that we called his ass up in the middle of the night to demand answers for something he’d only just become aware of himself.
It turns out, after he got the call from Cam and Jazz, Boyer immediately called up Vicki to find out what was goin on. Now the poor bastard is stuck playing catc
h up on all the shit his implicitly trusted number two has been pulling right under his nose in the effort of stealing his job right out from under him. This left the guy attempting to piece together the puzzle at the same time we demand answers to how this shit went down in the first place.
We now know that the meeting Vicki had with Boyer and the board before she came to Michigan to threaten us with her joke of an ultimatum was actually called by her. She’s been lying to everyone. Vicki took an offer to the table, claiming it was our suggestion, instead of a forced play for power. Vicki had actually been spending the last several months painting a picture for the board that showed us crumbling and Boyer failing to react. Evan’s letter of resignation had been dated long before she actually forced him into quitting. The reason stated it was due to the emotional strain being put on him and his family over his romantic entanglements with both Quinn and Bristol. Once we laid out the facts for him, line by line, he was stunned silent and unable to believe Vicki was so vindictive.
Not that we didn’t try and explain this shit to him the last time we talked to him. The bastard wasn’t hearing anything we had to say. Which is exactly why we stopped calling. We told him that too.
Right before we unanimously and respectfully told him to go to hell.
Having officially settled on our decision to accept the offer with Evil Wiener Productions, giving them the go ahead to negotiate the termination of our contact with Frayed Edge, the entire room feels lighter. Something that we all agree lets us know we made the right choice. With Greer already snoring away in the chair and Quinn starting to doze herself, I replay the last twenty-four hours. Quinn’s smile flashes up in my mind, the way she looked when Tage proposed to Bristol. Her tear-filled eyes during the ultrasound, and hearing Tage and Evan talk about their conversation before they flew down here to surprise us. Then, my mind fills with the images of the color leaving her face on stage. I can almost feel her body going limp against me as it replays in my mind. The fear just as real now as it was while waiting for her to come to.
“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before,” Bristol says, pulling me from my thoughts.
“Huh?”
“How much you love her,” she explains, staring at me as if she hasn’t seen me nearly every day since we were kids.
“I’ve always loved her, B,” I admit, watching the rise and fall of her chest. “Before I knew what that even meant. It’s always been Quinn. I can’t imagine feelin’ like this with anyone else. There are times I look at her and forget to breathe.”
“Ugh,” she groans, fanning her face. “You assholes are determined to make me cry like a little bitch before this trip is over? That’s worse than Tage asking for E’s blessing before popping the question.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, replaying the story over in my head. “Didn’t think people did that shit anymore.”
“Tage knew it’s important to me that my family loves him as much as I do.” Dabbing beneath her eyes with her fingers, she blows out a breath. “Not the family I was born into. The one I chose. He knows he’s good with you guys, but with Evan it’s different. He’s always giving Tage shit, being that protective jackass, ready to fuck shit up so that neither one of his girls ever get hurt. After everything I’ve been through the last few months, Tage gets why E is so protective. He needed to make sure the two of them were good before he took that last step with me. I think that’s why Tage couldn’t find the right time to ask before.” Looking over at Quinn, she sighs deeply, before meeting my eyes again. “No one wants to feel torn between two people they care about, Tanner. He needed to be sure he wasn’t putting me in that position.”
“Yeah.” Grabbing the ink pen sitting beside the envelope, I chuck it at Greer. Jolting awake mid-snore, he glares at me. “Come on, asshole. I’m gonna need all the backup I can get.”
Stepping out of Quinn’s room, we barely get halfway up the hall before we spot Vicki storming toward us like a raging bull. “I almost forgot about you,” Bristol grounds out through gritted teeth.
“Quinn’s really gonna be pissed she missed this,” Greer says, keeping his tone even.
“Whatever.” Bristol’s tone hardens. “This bitch is all mine.”
“You goddamned idiots,” she seethes, coming to a stop in front of me. The smell of alcohol on her breath nearly knocks me down. “All my hard work. Do you have any idea the sacrifices I have made to get where I am? All of those now for nothing. Craig and Nigel are gone. Mr. Boyer is moving for my immediate dismissal. What have you done?”
“Back up, bitch,” Bristol warns, pointing her finger in Vicki’s face. “You smell like you hit the bottom of the barrel at full speed.”
“You offered us an out with the label, Vick,” Greer says, sounding eerily calm. “Told us Mr. Boyer said we could walk.”
“You’re calling my bluff?” she slurs, staggering in her heels. “Pushing back with your little rebellion after a few has been rock stars stroked your egos over dinner?”
“Oh, no, sweetheart. This is much more satisfying than that for me.” Bristol shoves between Vicki and me, poking her in the chest. “Professionally, this is us saying you’re fired.” Another jab. “Personally, I’m saying fuck you, you rancid, vicious fucking bitch. You’ve tried to steamroll us. It isn’t even how you nearly got me killed, or how you stormed into my house like you owned it, threatened us with nothing more than lies and bullshit, then forced Evan to quit all because you’re power hungry and wanted to make Boyer look incompetent all while you make moves to snatch up his cushy corner office for yourself. The straw that breaks the camel’s back with me is that you’ve purposely put Quinn through so much stress I’ve got no doubt you’re the biggest one to blame for her being in that hospital bed.” She pokes her again, forcing Vicki to step back until her back is against the wall. “Find someone else to fuck with, Vicki. We’re done with you. Bet my ass Boyer’s done with you. Now, I suggest you get the fuck out of my face before I send you to the back of the unemployment line with a lot more than just a busted ego.”
“You can’t put your hands on me!” she screams, shoving Bristol backward. Her eyes move to Greer and me. “Get her out of my sight before I call the police and press assault charges.”
Balling her fist, Bristol punches Vicki in the jaw. Letting out a scream, B launches herself at her, sending them both crashing to the tile floor. “Bitch,” Vicki growls, slapping Bristol before going for her throat. Grabbing a fist full of Vicki’s hair, Bristol yanks her up and nails her in the nose with another punch. Wailing in pain, Vicki’s hands fall away, attempting to shield herself from B’s attack.
Before security can come haul their asses off, or B manages to beat the bitch to death, Greer and I yank her off Vicki’s flailing body. “Let me go!” Bristol screams, clearly wanting to finish what she started. “You assholes are cockblocking my beat down.”
“Settle down,” Greer huffs, banding an arm around her waist. “You’ve spilled enough blood.”
Bristol freezes, chest heaving with her rapid breathing. Her eyes go to Vicki, who is currently sobbing into her bloody hands. “Oh God,” she groans, gripping onto us to stay upright. “I’m gonna—” The words barely make it out of her mouth before she jerks free of our arms, bends at the waist and empties the contents of her stomach at Vicki’s feet.
Vicki jerks violently, scrambling out of the line of fire while attempting to stand. Greer swoops in, catching Bristol before her legs give out. “I’ve got you,” he grunts, shifting her in his arms and pulling them back.
“I’m good. Great. Totally not gonna faint,” she mutters, closing her eyes tightly. “I just can’t open my eyes again. Ever.”
Red, glassy eyes, bloody beat to hell face, and blood covered white silk blouse, Vicki stares blankly at us. A nurse rounds the corner, stopping dead the second she sees the scene before her. The short brunette blinks slowly, as if she sees this shit happen every day. “Sorry about the mess,” Greer says apologetically. “Guess some peopl
e can’t handle labor and delivery.”
“Right,” she deadpans, clearly not believing the crock of shit story he tosses her way. “I’ll call housekeeping.” She looks to Vicki, to us, then to Vicki again. Straightening her shoulders, Vicki lets out a huff before storming past her, heading toward the elevators. “This happens again,” the nurse says quietly. “I call security.”
“Gotcha,” I reply, throwing her a wave and a smile. “No worries. She won’t be back.”
“Fine.” The nurse nods, seeming satisfied. “I’ll get some scrubs and things from the nurse’s station for her to get cleaned up,” she adds, motioning to Bristol before disappearing around the corner.
“Thanks.” Bristol swallows hard, more than likely realizing she has blood on herself somewhere.
“That was badass.” Hoisting B into his arms, Greer starts moving in the same direction the nurse headed. “Thought you were gonna knock all that new dental work down her throat.”
“Pretty sure I chipped a tooth on my ring,” she admits, keeping her eyes closed tightly. “Worth it, though.”
After making sure Bristol gets changed and cleaned up without any issues, we head down to the cafeteria. Tage and Evan are sitting at the table closest to the door in the large empty room. Since they aren’t serving food this late, only every other light in the ceiling is lit, and the only food and drinks available are in vending machines along the far wall. “Hey,” Tage says, he and Evan both standing when they see us headed their way. “Everything okay?” he asks, his eyes moving to Bristol, immediately filling with concern.
