Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers Book 3)

by Ahren Sanders

  “It’s going to be hard to prove your case. We still can’t locate her to serve the papers, and she hasn’t technically proved a threat.”

  “Fuck me, Marco’s been hiding this shit.”

  “I don’t know about that. Marco didn’t lie to you in Vegas. When he got back to Virginia, he was a changed man. In the public, he spun the story like a pro and kept up the family bond, but behind closed doors, he was vicious. Karen didn’t think he’d go through with the separation and certainly didn’t think he’d give up the chance for a Presidential opportunity. He set her straight. Natasha mistakenly thought she had clout. He stripped her of all responsibility and did it ferociously. Insiders report she begged for a chance to make things better, then she gave him an ultimatum—Poppy or her. He put her ass on a plane. As soon as she left, the truth came out about her tricks and games. Marco finally found out the lengths of her lies and manipulation.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Tasha has her own money from years of working, but he’s cut her completely off.”

  “You don’t think he knows she is back in the States?”

  “He knows. His people knew the minute she landed. But like me, we don’t know where she is or what she’s doing.”

  “He should have told me.”

  “Possibly, but I’m more worried about how’s she’s living. She’s not using her credit cards, which means she’s found some other form of survival. No one can go weeks without some kind of financial support.”

  “Maybe she has friends floating her ass.”

  “Possibly, or she’s found a gullible sugar daddy.”

  “Evin?” Tessa pokes her head through the door. “Mr. Sanchez is here.” Her use of his formal name is a sign things aren’t right.

  “I’ve got to go but will call you later.” I disconnect, stand, and put on my jacket.

  Tessa shows him in, and I note his rigid demeanor. He takes my hand firmly, barely looking me in the eye. I motion for him to sit and wait for him to speak.

  “Evin, this isn’t easy, but out of respect for our relationship I felt it should be done in person.”

  “What should be done?”

  “I’m moving my investments and money from this bank.”

  I remain straight-faced, showing no emotion. “That’s a big decision, considering you’ve been with us for over a decade.”

  “I’ve recently lost faith in the dedication, leadership, and integrity of your team.”

  “That doesn’t sound like a disappointment in the bank; it sounds like a personal dig at me and my leadership.”

  “Maybe it is. What’s happened to my investments in the last quarter is unacceptable.”

  “Would you care to explain?”

  He blows out a breath, his arrogance slipping as he leans, placing his elbows on his knees. “I’ve relied on your expertise and opinion because it was well known you were the best. Listen, I’m taking a big leap here, but you need to know your reputation is headed to shit. Ever since you eloped with that performer and decided to spend all your time in Vegas, your business practices have changed.”

  Eloped with that performer?

  “How have they changed?” My voice scarcely contains the rage at his implication.

  “Your availability is limited, your focus is elsewhere, and your clients are suffering. It’s bleeding into my investments and I’ve decided to get out before I lose another million dollars.”

  I square my shoulders and spear him with a hard glare. “Now you’re spewing complete fucking bullshit. Nothing about my business practices has changed. And when the hell have you lost a million dollars?”

  “I’m not stupid Evin, the statement you sent last week had a significant loss.”

  I shove the folder across my desk. “Show me.”

  “Don’t insult me.”

  “You’re the one insulting me. Show me where the fuck you lost that money under my management.”

  He opens the folder, scans over the document, and then looks back at me. “This isn’t what you sent me.”

  “Sure as shit is.”

  “No, it’s not. Whatever game you’re playing won’t work. I’ve already met with another firm and am ready for the transfer process.”

  “Show me the loss.”

  He yanks his phone out of his pocket, works the screen, and hands it over. The differences in the statements are noticeable immediately. “The statement isn’t mine. A first-grader could recognize that.”

  “This was in your email.”

  “It may have been in my email, but it’s not my work. That shit is sloppy. Don’t know how that attached to our correspondence, but I’d be more concerned with my email server than the shit you showed me.”

  Three things hit me at once: Scottie’s concerns, Tessa’s run-in, and Tony’s description of Poppy. All mixed with Marco’s apprehension has my suspicions firing off.

  “Who is she?”

  “Who?”

  “The woman who attended the fundraising event with you.”

  “Why does that matter?”

  “How long have you known her?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Around two weeks? She’s not from the area?”

  His jaw tightens, his eyes flaring.

  “I’m going out on a limb here. Brunette, attractive, sexy, confident. But this woman differs from others, she doesn’t mind the no-commitment lifestyle.”

  “You want to make this ugly? You’re a pompous prick. Not too long ago, you lived the lifestyle until your ass got weak and fell for a stripper. She’s hot, I’ll give you that, but thought you had more intelligence. Bet you walked in that club and she pegged you immediately.”

  Rage morphs into a fiery fury and my vision goes red. “You already have a firm to transfer your money?”

  “Yes.”

  “And my other meetings this week, they result from you sitting around your gentleman’s club running your mouth?”

  “What others choose to do isn’t my concern. Maybe you should have been paying attention to your business.”

  “Boy, she did a number on you.” I chuckle sadistically, then press the intercom. “Tessa, please join us.”

  She hustles in, her face blank but eyes alert. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Sanchez is moving his accounts immediately.”

  “I’ll get the paperwork ready. Where should I send it?”

  I raise an eyebrow to him in question.

  “Is this how you respond when your largest client fires you?”

  “You’re not my largest client, and I’m firing you.” My attention goes back to Tessa. “Also, cancel the other meetings this week. Send them termination of service and transfer instructions as well. Let them know my staff will be available for the transition.”

  Her face remains stoic; however, I don’t miss the twitch in her lips. “Absolutely. Anything else?”

  “Yes, send me the most updated inquiries. We now have six unexpected openings.”

  She turns, but not before I catch the full on smile.

  Tony’s expression is steely. “You are an arrogant son of a bitch.”

  I open my video file on my desktop and turn the monitor to him. “See anyone familiar?”

  “What the hell is that?”

  “From your reaction, I’m guessing it’s your new fuck buddy. This video was taken in Vegas over a month ago.”

  “Vegas?” He squints, leaning in. “Is that Isaac Blake?”

  “The one and only.”

  “What is he doing?”

  “Right at that instant, he’s falling back in love with my wife. Now the asshole’s on speed dial, and it looks like I’ll have to make a call today. You and he have something in common; you’ve both been seduced by the devil. She conned him as well, but she’s upped her game. Natasha uses the old-fashioned way of persuasion to get a man to heel. Guess you’re not as untouchable as you thought.”

  “Tasha knows nothing of my business.”

&n
bsp; “Keep telling yourself that. I rejected the woman publically, and she didn’t take it well. She marked you, probably fed you lies, too. Does she know you’re meeting with me today and the reason?”

  The color drains from his face as understanding dawns. “That bitch was in my house. She must have gone through my things.”

  “Don’t worry, I bet she’ll be vapor when you get home.”

  I stand, going toward the door.

  “I don’t know what the hell is happening, but we need to talk about this.”

  “The time to talk was when you called me Saturday. Even this morning could have worked, but you came in here swinging your dick and your money around like you had the upper hand.”

  “We have too much history to let this ruin our relationship. I fucked up.” He comes to me, offering his hand.

  The bastard has the same condescending tone as a few minutes ago, triggering the fury inside. Before I can stop myself, my fist is connecting with his jaw and he’s stumbling into the wall. Frames crash around him loudly.

  “That’s for insulting my wife, you fucking son of a bitch.”

  The door flies open, and Pierce stands poised for anything. Poppy shuffles in with wide eyes. She takes one look at me, drops the crutches, and launches herself the four feet across the space. I catch her, hauling her close. She grips the back of my neck, scans over my face, and immediately the fury softens. The smell of her perfume and the fresh flowers in her hair settle the simmer inside.

  “Jesus, man. I’m sorry.” Tony’s tone is full of regret.

  “Get out of my office,” I grind out, not glancing his way.

  Poppy swings her head to him, clutching tighter. “I don’t know you, but you better leave.”

  “I’ll escort him out of the building,” Pierce speaks up, not masking his disgust.

  “Tessa, Anthony Sanchez’s email may have been compromised. Hand him the transfer paperwork and make sure he’s removed from our client portal immediately. Customer service can handle him.”

  “Yes, sir,” she trills, shutting the door when he’s through it.

  “I’m sorry you witnessed that.”

  “I asked Pierce to bring me early to surprise you. He insulted me?”

  She heard my outrage. “He’s an ass that was misinformed.”

  Poppy says nothing for a full minute, then her mouth splits into a breathtaking smile.

  “Shit.” I lay my forehead to hers. “That smile just erased the hellacious last few hours.”

  “Wait ‘til later when we get home from rehab and I show you how hot that was.”

  That’s all it takes for my dick to turn to steel.

  Chapter 32

  Poppy

  “You really are a hotshot, aren’t you?” Jesse makes notes on her tablet.

  “Nope, I’m an overachiever. There’s a difference.”

  “You’re becoming as big a pain in my ass as Annie.”

  “I take that as a compliment.”

  She goes to the far side of the room, aiming the tablet at me. “Alright, dancing queen, show us you can do this.”

  “Gladly.” I make a point to do a toe, ball, heel across the room, leaning on one crutch on my left side.

  “Stop, reverse, go with the heel first,” she instructs.

  My heel barely protests as I make my way to Jesse, spin, and go back to my original spot. “Voila!”

  “So damn cocky.” She clicks off the video. “You never wore a cast?”

  “Not a hard cast; Rexwell is more progressive.”

  “That’s been obvious from the beginning. I’ll recommend an adjustment on your knee.”

  “Let’s move to water therapy next week,” I suggest confidently.

  “Nope, you’re not there. We haven’t even worked on your motion yet.”

  “Water is the best way to start.”

  I’m ready to tell her about my research, but her stern glare stops me. After weeks of working together and reading her moods, it’s easy to tell she won’t reconsider.

  Our first appointment with Dr. Lyons was nerve-wracking. He was apprehensive about Rexwell’s recommended therapy. It was up to me to prove myself. Dr. Lyons may have been the vocal resistance, but I knew it was Jesse that had to be convinced. In most cases, it’s the therapist that decides the course of therapy, but since my case is complicated, everyone is involved. She was tough but agreed to follow Rexwell’s recommendations. Usually, she listens to my suggestions, even if humoring me. But today she’s shut me down.

  “Listen, Poppy, I know you’re a pro in muscle manipulation. Your eagerness to test theories to speed up your progress is commendable. But this is serious stuff. Individually, these injuries take time to heal. Your knee has to ease into it. The tendon snapped.”

  I deflate at the reminder. “Yeah, okay.”

  She lifts my chin, giving me an encouraging grin. “We’ll get there. Keep doing your thing.”

  “Yeah,” I repeat, turning to reach for the second crutch.

  “You’re comfortable in your home?”

  “Absolutely.” I swing over to my things on a chair, looking at the text on my phone from Darby.

  “Then let’s do one-crutch walking a few hours a day. That will give the knee at least a little weight.”

  My spirits lift. “Sounds good. Any chance I can sneak in a workout in the gym? Darby is my ride and she’s running late.”

  “I’m not sure your overprotective husband would like it.”

  “He’s not here and I’m working on loosening him up.”

  “Shit, you wear me out. You know what’s approved. I may join you once I get all these notes to your doctors.”

  “Dr. Rexwell is at lunch with the time difference.”

  “Rexwell is waiting. You’re his prize patient. Do you need help to the gym floor?”

  “Got this.”

  “Of course you do,” she mutters.

  I make my way out of the rehab area, loving the fact that the rehabilitation center is attached to a gym.

  It’s not fully recreational, but more specialized with the gym environment geared toward strength building. It reminds me of my training gym with Cirque.

  I drop my things on a bench, remove my shirt, pop in my earbuds, and start my rotations.

  My mind thinks over the last few weeks and how easily I slid into life in Charleston. Evin didn’t get to take the time off he planned. The scene in his office that morning, and the news of Tony Sanchez’s split, spread like wildfire. Tessa was inundated with meeting requests from nervous clients that heard a variety of rumors. Evin quickly eased their worries.

  He mostly worked from home, but when he needed to be in the office, I tagged along. Unlike my first impression, I now loved his office. Even more, seeing him in his element. His small team of employees is fun to be around, and Tessa is wonderful.

  Evin watches me closely, worried that I’ll be homesick. Daily calls with Ryanne and Dante keep me updated enough that hasn’t happened.

  Something feels off and it strikes me this is the first time I’ve been alone in weeks. Evin’s irrational fear of me hurting myself has rubbed off on everyone.

  I take advantage, warming up with a routine that Jesse has approved. All the yoga, Pilates, and kinetic exercises have been great, but working with weights is a pleasant change. The training regimen from Cirque clicks in, and in no time, I’m in the groove. I push myself until my arms and abs are burning for a break.

  “Jesse! Oh my God! It’s been ages, how are you?” The fake screech from behind grates like nails on a chalkboard and tells me Jesse is near. “I have been meaning to call you.”

  “Why is that?” Jesse deadpans.

  “I heard about your situation,” Screecher continues.

  “Situation?”

  “Rumor has it they bullied you into taking on that woman as a patient. I’ve never actually known a stripper, but I can’t imagine she has any medical insurance that covers your services. Bless you. You’ve always had s
uch a big heart.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but—”

  “And to think the Grahams have to go through this humiliation. Not only does Evin elope, but he’s now forced to bring that woman back to his hometown. I know for a fact he lost business the first week they moved here. Respectable business professionals distanced themselves.”

  Knowing this woman is referring to me turns my stomach. Bile pushes up my throat, and I force myself to swallow hard, aimlessly scrolling through my playlist.

  Please, God, don’t let my eyes water.

  “Where the EVER-LOVING-FUCK are your clothes?” The monstrous voice booms, startling me. Strong arms engulf me from behind, folding me to him.

  Evin takes one look at me, notices my glassy eyes, and his murderous glare slices to the side. The muscle in his jaw ticks as he focuses on something. “What are you doing here, Rina?”

  I draw in a deep breath, daring to glance at the gorgeous brunette who’s been talking to Jesse. She’s in expensive workout clothes with a face of full make-up, looking more like a model to my gym-rat appearance.

  “Evin, I… I…” she stammers, her gaze coming to me and filling with jealousy.

  He squats, his thumbs trailing over my tattoos at the edge of my sports bra.

  “That’s Rina?” I barely whisper, pain stabbing in my chest. “She thinks I’m a stripper.”

  He bolts up, his anger radiating in waves. “You called my wife a stripper?”

  She goes pale, guilt written on her face.

  “Oh, shit, here we go again.”

  I peer around Evin to find Pierce and Miller standing there. My misery must be clear based on their expressions and the way they step closer protectively.

  “Answer me, Rina. Did you call my wife a stripper?”

  “That’s the woman you left me for?” The question is laced with disapproval and repulsion.

  “Left you where?”

  “Don’t play coy. We had something great happening.”

  Even knowing the truth of their hook-up, it stings. He notices and urges me to my feet, pressing close. “There is no dignified response to that except you’re delusional. We had nothing except a handful of used condoms.”

  A squeak escapes and I bury my head in his chest to hide the enjoyment that gave me.