Evin's Fight (Southern Charmers Book 3)

by Ahren Sanders

  “Then it’s probably better I’m not there. Your bossiness wouldn’t lead to Christmas decorating with me.”

  I chew on my lip, a tingle working its way down my spine. “I saved the tree for us.”

  “Looking forward to that, baby.”

  “Love you.”

  “You too. Tell Dante to catch an Uber if he wants to join.”

  The line goes dead and I grab the ice chiller with the champagne. “Are we ready?”

  “We’ve had empty glasses for five minutes,” Dante shouts back.

  I flip the switch, and instantly, the house is bathed in only tiny sparkling lights.

  “It’s so beautiful.”

  “I think we’ve outdone ourselves this year.” Dante pops the cork and pours the glasses.

  “There is a lot more room to work with here than our little bungalow.” Ryanne sweeps her arm around the room. “We have thousands of lights in here and the tree isn’t even done.”

  Excitement and awe ripple through me as emotions swell inside my chest. Since the year we met, we’ve decorated for Christmas together. Even when our schedules were insane, we never bumped the tradition. This year, nothing changed. Ryanne had no trouble coming back to Charleston so soon, and Dante worked it out for a few days off.

  “It’s better than anything I imagined.”

  “Shit, Pips, you had a warehouse of decorations for us to work with. You knew we’d go big.”

  “I couldn’t help myself. This is our first Christmas married. It had to be spectacular.”

  “Hmmm, now that I think of it, I’m not sure how I feel.” Ryanne crosses her arms and glances around cynically. “It’s kinda gauche.”

  “It is not!”

  “I have to agree, it’s not gauche. It’s bougie.”

  “It’s not that either.” I stomp my foot.

  “Yeah, bougie. Very elite. Like something out of a New York penthouse magazine that is meant for the rich and famous. No one really enjoys it, but it’s expected.”

  My heart races and my temper flares. “That was a bitchy thing to say.”

  “Oh, I know what you mean, like those houses that professional decorators spend weeks and thousands on for a few magazine shots. No warmth at all.” Dante goes on as if I didn’t speak.

  “I know what may help. It’s a long shot, but it’s worth a try.” Ryanne reaches behind the chair and produces a large gift bag. “Popsy, maybe this will bring the grandiose down a few notches.”

  I snatch the bag and tip it straight over the couch, dumping the contents without a glance. The loud clank of metal stirs my curiosity and my gaze falls. All the air rushes out in a whoosh and I shove my glass at Dante.

  I inspect the personalized stocking holders with pictures of all of us over the months. “These are… they…”

  “Perfect for your mantle?”

  “Yes, perfect,” I whisper, belatedly noticing the gorgeous Christmas stockings next to them.

  A loud slap sounds as they high five in triumph. “We got you,” Dante mocks.

  “You did.”

  “Come on, this place is fabulous! Do you think the three of us would do anything less?”

  I hang them on the mantle and my mind goes to the three stockings in Vegas that hang on the bookshelf every year. “The only things missing are yours.”

  “They’ll be here next year.” Dante hands me my glass.

  My throat closes and nose stings, nostalgia setting in. “We won’t be together on Christmas.”

  “We’ll celebrate on New Year’s.”

  “It’s not the same. It’s amazing how much has changed.”

  “It’s still changing, gypsy goddess.”

  I suck back the tears and smile, bringing my glass in the air. “You are the BEST, best friends a girl could ask for.”

  “Damn straight.” Ryanne clinks her glass to ours. “Soon, we’ll all be living in this fabulous southern city.”

  “Here’s to years of keeping up traditions,” Dante toasts. “Just think, next year, we’ll have three places to decorate.”

  A rush of excitement hits as I’m swallowing and the liquid almost spews out of my mouth. “Are you saying…” It’s almost too much to hope.

  “I’m not sure I’ll be here full-time, but we’ll have our studio to decorate,” he clarifies. “It’s already on my mind.”

  I push back the tinge of disappointment at the reminder of our agreement. We open the studio with him as a silent partner until he retires from Cirque. It won’t be like we imagined, but we’ll make it work. Plus, I’ll have Ryanne to help.

  The week Ryanne spent over Thanksgiving officially solidified her decision to relocate. Her original plan was loose, taking her time to find a job and sell the bungalow. That plan is now fast-tracked. Andrew’s pressuring her to move straight in with him, but she’s holding off to see how things go when she’s in town full-time. She’s crazy about him, but her track record with men makes her cautious.

  “This place is tame compared to what we’ll do to the building next year. We’ll outdo all our neighbors on the block,” he continues.

  “I can’t wait. We’ll start Thanksgiving weekend.”

  “Barring any more babies arriving,” Ryanne pipes in.

  “We should be safe there. Darby’s taking a break.”

  “I wasn’t referring to Darby.” She wiggles her perfectly arched eyebrows.

  “Don’t waggle those at me.”

  “That’s right, keep your jinxing to yourself. Cal is meeting with her next Monday, and I’m holding on to hope she’s hitting the stage again.”

  I smile at him, knowing my evaluation with Cal is the first step of many that may end my time with Cirque. Dante knows this too but remains positive. “I love your optimism, but it’s truly okay to talk about the inevitable. We all knew it from the moment we heard my prognosis.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with praying for a miracle.”

  “In my mind, what I’m building here is a miracle.”

  “Promise me something, Pips. Promise me. If given the chance, you’ll dance on that stage with me one more time.”

  “I’d love nothing more. And then we have years of dancing on other stages, too.”

  Ryanne fans her face furiously, sniffling. “Goddammit. You two have to stop.”

  I stumble to the side in exaggerated shock. “Are you emotional?”

  “It’s this damn city. Something cracks my exterior when I step off the plane. Fucking humidity.”

  “It’s snowing outside,” Dante replies caustically.

  “Shut up, this is supposed to be a celebration of our tradition. You guys got gooey.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek, holding back as long as possible before a snort escapes. The irritation in her eyes lasts a nano-second before she’s smiling.

  Both their phones ding with trill sounding alerts, and Ryanne’s smile dies, her expression spooked. Dante’s thumb flies over his screen. The veins in his neck tick, and with each passing second, his demeanor changes. My glee is replaced with dread because whatever has him fuming is about me.

  “Ryanne, what’s going on?”

  “After Tasha reemerged last week, we didn’t trust her lockdown. I set up internet alerts on your name.”

  My heart plunges to the floor. “Dante, what’s it say?”

  The doorbell rings and he moves so fast I don’t have time to blink. “Do we know you?” He cracks the door, blocking my view.

  “Where’s Poppy?”

  “None of your bus—”

  The voice registers and I rush over. “Grady? What are you doing here?”

  “Let me in.”

  I cover Dante’s hand on the knob and squeeze. “He’s okay.”

  Grady hurries past us. “Shut the door. Poppy, pack a bag. I’m getting you out of here.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “There’s been a breach. Natasha’s made her move. I’m taking you somewhere private until we get this under control.”
<
br />   “Breach? Made her move? Get what under control?”

  “Pips, let’s pack you a bag. I agree with Grady,” Dante urges.

  “Is it that bad? What has she done?”

  “I swear to explain in the car, but right now you have three minutes. The vultures are descending as we speak in Virginia. Your dad has a team in crisis control.”

  “What the fuck is happening?” I lose my cool, not even caring he referred to Marco as my dad.

  “We covered all angles but she found a weak link.”

  “I don’t care about weakest links or covering angles. Quit speaking in coded gibberish. Tasha is in lockdown in a rehab facility with no communication for another week.”

  Dante’s listening to something on his phone, his complexion ashen. An eerie sensation tingles through me, and I shake my head in denial. “No. This is my night. Look at my house! Tomorrow, Evin and I will decorate our first tree. Tasha doesn’t get to ruin this!”

  Grady glances around, his firm expression softening. “I’m sorry, Poppy. Your house is gorgeous, but this is important. Trust me to explain in the car.”

  “I trust him.” Ryanne goes to my room.

  “Evin.” I get lightheaded at the possibility of anything wrong.

  “Evin’s fine. We’ll call him from the car.”

  My brain fires on all cylinders, imagining all the awful things Tasha could have done. I gather my wits, breathing deep and trying to find my rationale.

  “Grady, I’m not fighting you, but give me a breakdown of the basics. I thought you went back to Virginia with Marco.”

  He hesitates, a mixture of irritation and sympathy in his eyes. “I stayed behind on a hunch, continuing to decipher the files on the computer and the relevance. I’m also monitoring Tasha’s progress. She was doing well, too well. I saw the signs and recommended a change in her therapy. The medical director didn’t agree. Even after several warnings, he felt she was making progress. She must have felt the tension and made her move. This morning, she found her mark and gained access to a phone and the internet. Right now, news outlets are all receiving and reporting on breaking news about the Governor of Virginia and his family. Everyone in the family. She’s released a tell-all chock-full of lies and fabrications. A professional collected and crafted those files, meant to cause scandal and ruin the family.”

  “When you say the vultures are descending, do you mean the press knows who I am?”

  His solemn nod is cautious and remorseful. An eerie prickle washes over my skin.

  “What were you listening to?” My eyes cut to Dante.

  There’s a beat of silence, then he lifts his phone and plays back a recording.

  “Poppy, you have to stop!”

  “No, you little runt. Who’s stronger now?”

  “Aww, never! You’ll have to do a lot more to break me!”

  “You’re gonna get it now.”

  There’s a muffled sound followed by loud grunts. A dog barks uncontrollably in the background.

  “Shut it, pup, or you're next! See how you like the claws of life around your furry neck!”

  “You ready to give in yet?”

  “Whatever you do, I’ll never admit defeat.”

  “We’ll see about that!”

  There’s a loud cry, then the sound cuts off before you hear the unmistakable laugh from Cole as I tickle him until he’s begging for air. Runner joins in, tackling us in doggy excitement.

  Realization slams into me with a force so great I reach for the mantle for support. “She painted me as a child abuser? That’s my nephew!”

  “We know and we’re working on it.”

  “Working on it how? And did she use my name?”

  “She released everything, including pictures of you and Isaac in college,” Dante tells me angrily. “Bitch is crazy. She’s thrown everyone into the firing squad.”

  I yank his phone away and scroll through, scanning speedily.

  Breaking news out of the Virginia Governor’s Office this afternoon. Governor Marco Bindel and First Lady Karen Bindel are facing a barrage of accusations…

  …The First Lady’s multiple lovers exposed…

  …Governor’s Cabinet is scurrying to cover…

  …Eight years ago, stole the Senate seat…

  The name catches my eyes first. A name I haven’t used in so long, but still stops me in my tracks.

  …Mysterious daughter Caitlyn Bindel reemerges, and it looks like she’s hiding some serious…

  …Poppy Malone…

  …accusations of child abuse…

  … Adult entertainment industry…

  …Drinking problems…

  …Self-destructive behavior led to career-ending injury…

  The assault on Evin comes next.

  …conned a millionaire businessman into marriage…

  …Successful portfolio manager under investigation following significant losses while his wealth grows…

  ...Business associates shocked and scrambling to assure clients…

  Bile claws at my throat. “I have to speak to Evin.”

  As if he senses my despair, my phone rings, and I answer with unsteady hands. “Sweetie?”

  “Is Grady there yet?”

  “Yes.”

  “Baby, we’re going to the shed.”

  “Is it really necessary?”

  “This is strictly precautionary. The press will be curious and come hounding. Until there’s a plan, I want you protected. Mom and Dad’s farm is all private property. Anyone trespasses, they will answer to me.”

  “Okay…”

  The phone is out of my hand and at Grady’s ear before I can ask if he knows about the recording. “You’ve got me.”

  ‘Two minutes’ he mouths, gesturing to get my things.

  “Tell him I love him,” I say, walking to our room.

  Ryanne and Dante are on my heels. “What can we do?”

  “Pack for me and Evin? Close my house and lock up. I’ll leave with Grady and meet y’all at the farm.”

  They spring into action, not acknowledging me slipping back to the living room. I blankly go through the motions of getting my jacket and purse. The twinkling lights around the area that meant so much a short time ago, now barely a blur.

  Grady hands me my phone, and I stare at it, my stupor clearing as unanswered questions tumble through my mind.

  “How’d Tasha manage to contact anyone? You said she made her mark, but what does that mean?”

  Grady glances at me uncomfortably. I stand my ground, eyeing him expectantly, even with the icy prickle slithering along my skin.

  “There’s a reason the Medical Director ignored my advice. The therapy reports show accelerated progress in Tasha’s mental state and acceptance of having a dependency problem.”

  “In other words, she fooled them?”

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “So what, the therapist agreed to give her a phone call or something?”

  “Not exactly. Tasha seduced the therapist, and during their tryst, she stole the phone. It was discovered hours later. The phone records show she made some calls to an untraceable number and logged into several email services. We know she had a partner and a contact in Virginia waiting for her confirmation.”

  “Unbelievable. She’s such a skank. Drops to her knees and steals his phone when his pants are around his ankles? That’s classic.”

  Grady flinches. “Did I offend you?”

  “I live in the beast of the belly of politics; not much offends me. But you should know she didn’t drop to her knees. The therapist is a woman.”

  My jaw drops and a mini-screech escapes. “A woman? Tasha fucked around with a woman?”

  “Seems so.”

  Determination surges through me, igniting familiar memories.

  “We should go.”

  I follow Grady and discreetly drop my phone in Ryanne’s purse, ignoring the guilty knot in my stomach. We’re safely out of the neighborhood when I make my demand
. “Take me to her.”

  He remains quiet, staring ahead.

  “You know where she is. Take me to her.”

  “Your husband wants you at the shed. Your father wants you in a guarded fortress. I’m instructed to keep you out of sight, and you expect me to drive you straight to the cause of the mayhem?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that why you ditched your phone?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Poppy, it’s my job to be observant.”

  “Not sure about that,” I mutter under my breath.

  “I take full responsibility for failing,” he responds sullenly.

  My gut rolls with shame for the comment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

  “Shit, don’t apologize to me. I failed at my job.”

  “No, you didn’t. This isn’t your fault. I’m just angry, pissed, and worried. There’re a ton of emotions running through me. Blaming you was a reflex reaction.”

  He pulls his bottom lip through his teeth in a move I’ve watched Evin do a hundred times when something is on his mind. Then a thought occurs to me that turns my stomach. “Grady, did you sleep with Tasha?”

  His eyes slice to mine, unmistakable repulsion in his glare. “No.”

  I let out a breath on a whoosh. “Thank God.”

  “For over seven years, I’ve watched that women bulldoze over people in her quest for the highest ring in the social circuits. She’s severed marriages, broken engagements, and destroyed careers, to name a few. Marco has paid with his blood, sweat, and tears to cover her ass. All for nothing. She never saw the consequences of her actions.”

  “She’s never changed.”

  “Exactly. I wouldn’t bang that bitch if she was the last piece of ass on this earth. Doesn’t mean she hasn’t tried, many times.”

  I cover my smile.

  “Pardon the vulgarity.”

  “You’ve met my husband. I’m not offended by vulgar. Isaac flat out said her puss—ahem—I mean she had more miles than his vintage mustang.”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, he’s always been entertaining.”

  My mood shifts, thinking about Isaac. “Dante said there were pictures online of Isaac and me. Those would have to be ancient. Where’d they come from?”

  “Isaac’s phone. He kept a file from college. You were in a lot of them.”