by Lauren Runow
29
HARPER
When I walked into a bar, looking for a suit, I never pictured I’d fall in love with one. Well, actually, I fell for a guy in jeans with a ridiculous man bun. He knocked me off my feet, but, honestly, it doesn’t matter what he’s wearing, where he works, what his quirks are … Tanner Sexton is mine.
Today, he’s wearing a black suit and a sullen expression. As we sit on the folding chairs that dig into the grass at San Francisco National Cemetery, I don’t look at the open burial plot before us. I stare at my husband.
His hair is combed back and curls at his collar. He shaved his beard off, and the square lines of his jaw are on full display as he clenches his teeth. His back is straight, accentuating his broad shoulders. If we were anywhere else, I’d appreciate the way he looks in his fine threads and silk tie.
“Give him, oh Lord, your peace and let your eternal light shine upon him,” the priest prays over the black casket.
I grab Tanner’s hand, and he squeezes it. His face is stoic, and his eyes are fixed straight ahead. He laces his fingers with mine and kisses my hand. Today is hard for him … really hard.
A small gray headstone lies on the ground. His father’s name and his dates of birth and death are etched into it. It’s not a fancy monument or ornate in any way, just a simple grave marker. A week ago, Edward Sexton took his life. As his sons departed the Sexton manor after confronting him about his part in the death of their mother, Edward took his life before the police were able to apprehend him. He wasn’t even convicted of a crime yet.
When Tanner explained the sounds of the gunshot, the chaos of the scene outside, and the horror of hearing the news, I felt sick to my stomach. I still do. He fell to the floor and held his head and cried. We stayed on the bedroom floor for hours, holding one another.
Part of me wishes I’d kept my mouth shut. It’s a small part because I know I did the right thing, especially once the flash drive was handed over to the authorities. Missy was arrested for conspiracy to murder Marina Sexton. It’s going to be a long-drawn-out battle to prove Missy killed Marina, and I know it will take its toll on Tanner and his brothers. Still, the process has begun, and there’s no turning back from doing what is right. Tanner’s mother was never meant to leave the earth as early as she did. I’m glad her death will be avenged.
Still, I hurt for my husband.
“Oh God, by whose mercy the faithful departed find rest, send your holy angel to watch over this grave.” The priest’s words echo in the silence of the afternoon.
I look to my side at the two empty seats reserved for Bryce. He chose not to sit and is standing instead on the opposite side of the plot. His arms are wrapped around Tessa as he stares at the casket with red-rimmed eyes. He’s been so angry this week—and justly so. Tessa said he’s been at work round the clock. It’s his method of avoiding emotions. He has the added stress of making sure everyone knows Sexton is still in business. Edward paraded himself around town as the face of the business. Bryce has to remind everyone that he’s the brains.
Despite Bryce’s anger and overwhelming week of work, it was his idea the brothers attend the ceremony. There was no wake or traditional burial. Just this simple graveside prayer service. Edward’s suicide made headlines, but his funeral wasn’t announced in the paper or shared with friends. They didn’t think he deserved that.
Actually, Austin didn’t think Edward deserved anything. He wanted to donate the body to science and then burn it when they were done. I hate to admit, I kind of agreed with him, but Bryce was the voice of reason. Their mother had raised them to be family men. Despite Edward’s egregious actions, he was their father. He should be buried.
I look to my right, past where Tanner’s sitting, and see two empty seats. Austin and Jalynn did not attend. He refused to take part in this, and Jalynn is staying by his side to make sure he doesn’t run away from his feelings. With liquor and illegal street racing off the table, she said he’s been reading. To my surprise, he’s been reading his mother’s favorite book, Pride & Prejudice.
When I told Tanner, his reply was, “It’s about time.”
According to Jalynn, Austin acts like he doesn’t care about anything when, really, he’s more in tune with his feelings than most people. He’s sensitive, and he doesn’t know how to work through his emotions on his own.
While Bryce, Austin, and Tanner are disgusted by their father, none were prepared for his death. That’s why they’re each taking it differently. Tanner has been silent, pouring himself into painting. We’ve been staying in Bryce’s Tahoe lake house. The one where Tanner spent his childhood summers. He turned one of the rooms into a makeshift art studio, working away his feelings. The portraits are all bold and red. So much red paint. I’ve been giving him space as he works out his aggression with a brush, and when he needs comfort, I give it to him in any way I can—with my body, with my words, with the soft touch of my hand through his hair.
As the ceremony ends, Bryce is the first to turn his back. There are no flowers to throw on the grave, so we exchange hugs and bid farewell before Bryce and Tessa head to their car. They’re a lovely couple. I’ve only known them a week, but this chaos has thrown the three of us girls into a bond that no one would understand. Hearing how Bryce courted her has given me a new outlook on the man. He seems hard on the outside, but he’s really a big romantic at heart.
A slight breeze comes through, and the soft sounds of birds in a nearby tree serenade us. Tanner is standing by his chair with his hands in his pockets and his head bowed. The priest has gone as well, so it’s only the two of us and the casket waiting to be lowered to the ground. I take heavy breaths and wait—as I have been—for Tanner.
“I told him he was dead to us,” he finally says with a raspy voice. He swallows. “The last thing I ever said to my father was that he was dead to us.”
I turn to him and run my thumb along the palm of his hand. “You were angry.”
“I meant it.” He briefly closes his eyes.
“You can’t blame yourself for his actions.”
His chest puffs out, and out comes a long exhale, a week’s worth of hurt. He turns to me and raises his chin. As I look up into those blue eyes, I stifle a sigh at the sight of the glazed-over look in them.
“I know my words alone didn’t cause him to kill himself. His vanity was the reason he took his own life. My father couldn’t live with his name being slandered in the paper. Everyone would know of his sins. That was worth more to him than being present for his own sons. That’s the part I’m having a hard time reconciling. He always placed himself before us.”
I place my hand on his cheek and feel the heat of his skin as he lays into it. “You deserve so much more.”
He pulls me in, his hand snaking around my waist and tugging on my chiffon dress. “I know, sweet Harper. I know. That’s why I’m ready to be the man I was meant to be. No more hiding out. I’m ready to live my legacy.”
“What’s that?” I ask with bated breath.
He takes my hand and kisses my knuckles. “A good son, loyal brother, and most importantly, a devoted husband.”
“You’re already all of those things.”
“Now, it’s time I prove to myself that I am.”
I tilt my head to the side. “How do you plan to do that?”
He smiles. It’s that gorgeous full-lip grin I love so much. “Let’s start by going home.”
Home. With my husband. There isn’t a better way to start a new chapter than with that thought.
As Tanner and I walk through the cemetery toward our car, we see the taillights of a Camaro sitting behind a nearby tree. Through the side-view mirror, I can see a man with wavy brown hair and sunglasses, staring out toward the gravesite. When he sees us in the reflection, he gives us a salute.
Looks like Austin decided to stop running. Tanner salutes his brother back, and when he kisses my cheek, I know it’s all going to be okay.
Now that everyone has found t
heir closure, it’s time to start a new beginning.
Epilogue
TANNER
A YEAR LATER
“Will that be all, Mr. Sexton?” my new assistant, Callie, asks from the threshold of my office doorway.
“Please call me Tanner,” I reply from behind my steel desk. The one that sits in front of a large window with views of the Golden Gate Bridge. “Mr. Sexton was my father.”
“Sorry, sir.” She bows her head as if ashamed to have made me think of my late father. The man who everyone now knows was a scoundrel and a murderer.
“What I mean is, Bryce’s and Austin’s assistants call them by their first names. You should do the same.”
She gives a half-smile as she clutches her day planner against her cardigan. “Yes, sir.”
Callie keeps calling me sir, and I have to laugh at myself, as it reminds me of the first time I met Harper’s dad. I was nervous and desperate to earn his respect. Now, I just call my father-in-law Kevin.
I raise a brow at her in hopes that she’ll try that again.
She gives a bashful grin. “I mean, yes … Tanner.”
“Good. Having an assistant is new to me. It kind of makes me feel like a pretentious asshole.”
Callie’s eyes widen under those thick bangs of hers. She’s not used to my sense of humor, and I have to learn to not say what’s on my mind at any given moment. I fought against having an assistant, but Bryce finally talked me into it. When he pointed out how disorganized my days were due to poor time management, I caved.
“Get out of here and enjoy your weekend.” I rise from my desk and grab my suit jacket from behind my chair. Since I let Austin decorate my office, it’s a high wingback chair that’s comfortable as fuck but way over the top for my taste. Talk about looking like a pretentious asshole. “Do you have anything planned?”
“Well, actually—”
“Hey, hot stuff. You ready?” Chris comes barreling into view, walking straight to Callie, whose face lights up at the sight of him. “Oh, hey, man,” he says when he sees me in my office.
When Chris graduated with his master’s in May, I offered him a job in my department. He moved out here and has been a great addition to the company. And I have my loyal friend nearby. It doesn’t stop him from busting my balls that he has a higher degree than me though.
“Is there something I should know about?” I ask, pointing a finger between the two of them.
“Yeah, I’m taking your assistant out for happy hour,” he says matter-of-factly, running a hand through his mop of blond hair.
“Isn’t there a no-fraternization policy?” I wonder.
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “Austin is living with Bryce’s assistant. I think the no-fraternization policy was burned a long time ago.”
I shake my head with a smile, knowing he’s right. I look up at him in his gray suit with the collar bent inside the suit jacket and his tie that’s crooked after a long day.
Callie is looking particularly sheepish. “If it’s a problem, Chris and I don’t have to go—”
“Have fun,” I intercept her thoughts. “Just be safe.”
Her cheeks redden as she spins quickly toward her desk to grab her purse and coat. I walk to the doorway and pull at Chris’s jacket.
“Two drinks, max. You, tequila, and women don’t mesh well together,” I warn him as I adjust his collar and tie and brush off his shoulders.
His eyes glance to the side to see if she’s listening, and then he whispers to me, “No worries, man. It’s just happy hour.”
“Last time I went to happy hour, I was ghosted.”
“And then you got married,” he offers.
I raise my brows at his premonition.
He defensively holds his hands up. “I’m just taking her out for a drink. I am in no rush to get married for at least another ten years. Twenty-three is way too young. No offense.” He looks back at Callie, who is checking her makeup in a compact mirror. “Although I kinda like her. She’s different, you know?”
I smile, knowing exactly what he means. “Just don’t blow her over. She’s a nice girl and a damn good assistant.”
“How is it going?” he asks, knowing I have been opposed to the idea.
Callie’s been working for me for a few weeks, and I already notice the difference. “My schedule is tighter, I’ve been able to have her handle some of my paperwork, and I only take meetings and calls that are absolutely necessary. I’ve been home at a decent time every day, which means I have more time for my wife.”
“Sweet. That means, you can go home and get some sookie sookie.” He waggles his brows as he adjusts the button of his jacket.
I might be a married man now, but I’ll still never kiss and tell. “It’s Charlie’s birthday party tonight.” I glance at the time on my phone. “I hope Austin and Bryce have left for the day as well.”
“I can read them the riot act if they haven’t,” he offers with a thumb pointing to the floor above where their offices are.
I roll my head from side to side and consider his offer. Bryce is the one I have to worry about. He expanded his department and delegated many of his responsibilities, so he can be home more for Tessa and Charlie, yet I sometimes find him burning the midnight oil well past when he wanted to be gone. Austin has always been good at balancing work and a social life.
“Get out of here. And behave.” I give him my best scowl.
“Damn. Give the guy a fancy title, and he decides to grow up,” Chris teases with a cocky grin as he steps back and heads to the hallway where Callie is now standing with her purse on her arm. He walks up next to her and places a hand on the small of her back, escorting her down the hallway toward the elevator.
He appears taller, all dressed up. I wouldn’t be surprised if his shoes had lifts in them.
I check my office one last time to make sure I haven’t forgotten anything, grab my messenger bag, and close my door, staring at the nameplate that reads Tanner Sexton, President of Marketing and Advertising, Sexton Media.
I run a hand along the etched steel lettering of my name. Where there was once a pang in my chest at the thought of being back here, I now feel a sense of calm, walking the halls of the company my mother built.
After my father’s passing, my plan was to move back with the intention of helping my brothers during Missy’s trial and then selling them my shares of the company. What I wasn’t planning on was falling in love with the work. I’ve been able to use what I learned at Columbia to fortify some incredible campaigns for our clients. Plus, with Bryce heading print and Austin running digital, there are some amazing opportunities for cross-promotion. It’s exciting and a form of creation I didn’t know I’d enjoy so much.
I knock on the door of one of my employees. “Good night, Laura. Make sure you get out of here in time to see your daughter’s play.”
“Shutting down right now, boss. Enjoy the birthday party.”
My team is filled with a talented group of people who I’ve become close to over the past year. It’s another reason I decided to stay on board and take the place my mother had created for me. A place beside my brothers at the head of the table.
As I walk down the hall, I make sure my employees are gone or wrapping up for the day. Unless we’re on a major deadline, I try to get them out of here at a decent time every night. Many seem surprised when I stop to talk to them. I know the names of everyone’s significant other and make a point to ask them about their families. Sexton has always been a family business. My personal goal is to keep it that way.
“Night, George.” I wave to the office manager as I walk onto the elevator.
When I get off, I’m in the two-story lobby of marble and granite. The word SEXTON is written in large letters behind the security desk, and it causes me to reflect.
Our surname—the one given to us by our father to continue a legacy—has been in the paper a lot in the last twelve months and not for the reasons a son intends to carry his father’s
name.
His suicide made national headlines. The corporate headshot that had made him seem prestigious was on every news show. Images of the house with police cars and yellow tape are forever etched in my brain. As is the sight of his body being wheeled outside, only covered by a thick white sheet.
My hand grips the leather strap of my bag, and I squeeze as hard as I can at the memory.
When we walked outside of his house that night, the patrol car Bryce had called was in the driveway. As we filled the police officers in on what our father had confessed to, a loud gunshot blasted inside the house. Deep down, I think we all knew what had happened.
The officers drew their guns, called for backup, and ran into the house, their footsteps heavy as they pummeled through the doorway. Austin was right behind them, but Bryce held me back as my body leaped forward to follow.
Missy showed up shortly after in her convertible and looked at us in confusion. Bryce didn’t hold her back from going inside. Her screams echoed from deep within the house. Austin came out shortly after, his hands running through his hair and face as white as a ghost. Our father was dead from a gunshot wound to his temple. I hadn’t even known he owned a gun.
I had a nervous breakdown that night. Harper held me for hours and soothed my broken soul. The nightmares lasted for a month, and I painted in a frenzy. Half of me was ready to grow up and move forward with my life. The rest still had many demons to ward off.
I wonder sometimes, if I had known that night would be the last time I saw my father, if I would have stayed a little longer, said something else, anything.
I guess I’ll never know.
Missy was taken out of the house that night in handcuffs. They brought her in for questioning, and the next day, she was charged with the conspiracy to murder our mother. Apparently, our father had equally incriminating evidence in his office wall safe, including tapes and videos of Missy admitting to the crime. He even kept the lug nuts for reasons none of us will ever know. Missy’s charge was changed to murder in the first degree.
