Last Call

by Michele G Miller

  His voice was raw when he said, "What was this, Savannah? Was I just eye candy to you? A short trip home to show off the sexy Aussie to your vapid little cousin?"

  Regret slapped me in the face and I cried out, "No! Do you honestly think so little of me?" He didn’t reply right away, so I stated the obvious. "You heard my mother and I just now, right?"

  He stepped forward suddenly, which caused me to stumble back. He turned my way and I saw the disgust written in his face. The moon provided just enough light for me to see the anger flashing in his eyes. "Were you trying to show your ex you could forget him? Is that what all those dates were for? But when you couldn't find a rich ass worth the time to bring home to momma, you went for the lowly bartender because of his sex appeal?"

  "Gage, no. I swear, that's…"

  "You swear? That's laughable. You swore you felt something real with me. Were you lying then too?"

  "No."

  "I saw you a few minutes ago with Spencer," he confessed.

  "You what?" Fear washed over me at what that moment must have looked like to his eyes. "That's not what it looked like, Gage. I told him that I’d moved on. What you saw was goodbye."

  "That kiss sure didn't look like you were moving on."

  I raised my hands in a silent plea as tears started to stream down my face. "That kiss was nothing. It was just me being confused."

  I might as well have slapped him, the way his head snapped back at the word "confused".

  "He meant something to me a long time ago, and he pushed me to talk and I just… I didn't know how to handle it."

  He didn't buy it. "You could have simply walked away."

  "I did, and I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner, Gage. Honestly I was surprised by him, that's all."

  Shaking his head, his jaw tensed and the muscle in his cheek jerked erratically. "What about what your mother said?"

  "My mother knows nothing," I pleaded, stepping closer to him. "I'm sorry you heard her, but none of that is true."

  "Yet you didn't set her straight." His tone was flat now, as if he had ceased to care.

  "You don't know my mother. It's better just to not engage. Not right now - not here."

  "You know, you've never asked me once about my future. About bartending or my job. You've just ignored it. You didn't bother to tell your mother. You planned to keep that a secret from everyone, didn't you?"

  "Gage," I pleaded again, grasping the edge of his jacket. His shoulders tensed as he watched me and then stepped back another step.

  "You know what? It doesn't matter. Go back to your family, sweetheart. I'll get a flight out of town tonight. I'm not a toy, Savannah. I'm an adult and I'm not playing your games. I've been there, done that, and I'm over it."

  "But it does matter. Let me explain to you why I never asked," I begged as he took his first step away from me. "Gage!"

  "When are you going to realize that you are your own person? Or at least I thought you were. You think I don't know the pressure you get? Trust me, I get it, and I know how it feels to have people after you for who you are or what you’re worth. But I thought you were different - that you didn't care about bank accounts and parties like your mother." I was completely mystified at what he seemed to be alluding to. What did he mean he understood the pressure?

  "You haven't, though. You're still trying to please the country club crowd and the silly socialites. But guess what?" he breathed, pulling me close and staring into my eyes. My lip trembled while tears streamed down my cheeks, and he wiped a tear from my face gently with his thumb as his eyes pored over me. It was like he was trying to remember every last detail, and my breath hitched in fear. Then for one, glorious moment his head bent down towards me and I tilted back automatically for the kiss I prayed he was going to give me. Instead, he placed his warm lips against my ear and whispered in a voice that chilled me to the core. "You're just a fool, love. Talk to your dad about me. I wanted to give you everything Savy, and you tossed it away like it was nothing."

  With those final words he let me go and turned to leave. My knees begin to buckle as I watched him walk away. My voice caught in my throat at the realization that he was done. I heard the music coming from inside the tent where the wedding party was continuing to celebrate. The band was playing a slow song, and I pictured the dance I would have wanted to have with Gage; his strong arms holding my body pressed to his. The way his fingers would trail along my bare shoulder. Telling him I was ready to move forward with him.

  "Oh my God," I choked; sinking to my knees right there in the grass. He’d called me Savy. Savy. My shoulders folded in on me as a torrent of tears fell from my eyes.

  Sunday - June 16, 2013

  Secrets Revealed

  It was well past noon when I finally dragged myself out of the guest house and into my father’s study. After Gage walked away from me the night before, I sat in the grass crying until my father found me. He pulled me into his arms and crooned words of love. I was the little girl who’d fallen off her bike and skinned her knee in the second grade all over again.

  "I don't understand, daddy. He just walked away," I sobbed into his shirt. "He wouldn't let me explain."

  "Come on baby, let's get you home."

  When we pulled into the garage I slipped off my shoes and ran to the guest house expecting him to be there, but he wasn't. His scent still lingered in the room, and his clothing and luggage sat there. I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled the pillow to my face, breathing in his scent.

  "Sweetheart?" My dad stood in the doorway and watched me; his face twisted in pain for me.

  "I'm going to stay here. His stuff is here, so surely he just went to vent and he’ll be back…and I want to be here to talk to him."

  "Baby, he said he was going to catch a flight…"

  "How do you know that? Did you talk to him?"

  He stepped into the room and pulled something from his pocket. "One of the employees delivered this to me," he said, handing me a note.

  Unfolding the note I wiped my eyes, trying to clear the blurry haze as I stared at the small note with Gage's bold handwriting.

  Mr. Guthry,

  I apologize for the contents of this letter, sir. I want to thank you for your hospitality this weekend and for welcoming me into your house and into Savannah's life.

  Something happened this evening that I think is best left between your daughter and I, but I wanted you to know that I am heading home. I am taking a cab to the airport now and will catch a flight when available. I would appreciate you not telling Savannah about this until I have left, as I do not wish to cause a scene with her.

  When I left her moments ago, she was under a large tree off from the main building entrance. Please go to her for me.

  PS. Please feel free to tell Savannah what we discussed about me. I think she has the right to know.

  Sincerely,

  Gage

  I held the note to my chest. Debating my options, I snapped at my father, "Maybe he's still at the airport. Why didn't you tell me right away? And what is it that you two discussed?"

  "Savannah, I honored his wishes and most likely he’s already gone. Come inside and we can talk."

  Jumping to my feet, I looked at the items Gage had left behind. "No. Dad, I think I love him. Damn him for leaving. Why do guys do that, huh? They walk away without any thought to the pain they cause."

  "Let him cool down, baby, and he’ll see things differently. Can you tell me what happened?"

  Spotting his open travel suitcase, I walked to it and looked at the neatly folded shirt on top. I pulled it out and held the soft cotton in my hands. Beneath it was a small square box wrapped in white with a tag.

  "Daddy, can you give me some time, please? I'm going to stay here in case he comes back." My voice was stiff as I stared at the box. "Please…"

  When the doors clicked shut behind him, I picked up the box and t-shirt and walked back to the bed. My purse was sitting on the table next to the door, and I assumed that my
father had carried it into the room with him and left it. I quickly grabbed my purse and pulled out my cell phone; checking it for messages.

  Nothing.

  I hit the quick dial button for Gage and listened as it went directly to voicemail.

  "Gage - it's Savannah…please come back. I'm so sorry, Gage, just please let me explain. I'm waiting in the guest house for you."

  I hung up and stripped off my dress, pulling on his t-shirt and sliding under the covers. The small package sat on my lap and I stared numbly at it. The tag was made out to me with a small heart stamped onto it.

  Not able to wait, I unwrapped the gift; taking deep breaths as I did. Removing the lid, I picked up a square piece of cotton from the top to find a thin silver cuff bracelet. It was simple and sweet, and a smile came to my lips as I picked it up to inspect it.

  And that's when I saw it.

  Seven words elegantly hand stamped along the cuff that ripped my heart from my chest:

  Hey pretty girl, let's build some dreams

  My chest tightened as I stared at the line from the song we'd danced to several times. Our song.

  There was a small note under the bracelet that said:

  Savy, I chose you. Are you ready to choose me?

  Suddenly anger reared its ugly head and I hit the redial button on my phone; going straight to voicemail again.

  "You want to build some dreams? You chose me? Is that why you walked away? Just like that, Gage - you just walk away and leave me?" A sob broke my voice. "You didn't choose me. You didn't even give me a chance in the end. I did choose you, but you didn't trust me enough to stay and find out. How dare you…?" I began to cry harder into the phone as I muttered, "How dare you. I chose you…"

  The voicemail cut me off and I collapsed on the bed with a deluge of tears streaming down my face; crying myself into a fitful sleep.

  Later when I walked into my father’s study in Gage's t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants, I met my father’s sad eyes and plopped into the chair across from his desk.

  "He isn't returning my calls. Tell me what you discussed with him."

  "Your mother wants to talk with you, Savannah," he said; rounding his desk and placing his large hand on my shoulder.

  "I'm not really in the mood to speak with her right now. I want to know why Gage told me to talk to you. What is it that you know that I don't?"

  He called out for my mother despite my protest and then went back to his seat. His face was deathly serious as he started to speak.

  "First, let me tell you that Gage called me a week ago."

  "He did what?"

  My dad’s head snapped up and he looked over my head.

  "He called me. Erika honey, come sit down. Both of you - let me speak first. Okay?" He looked from my mother to me and back.

  My mother took the chair next to me and avoided my eyes. She was impeccably put together as always, although her eyes were tired and maybe a little puffy. We both shook our heads in pouty agreement and my father continued.

  "Gage called to make sure that it was acceptable to us that he stay at our house for the wedding. He was extremely polite about it and I was very impressed. It wasn't until Friday at lunch that I knew who he was."

  My heart constricted as I thought about Gage being such a gentlemen to call on my father without telling me.

  "What do you mean ‘who he was’?"

  He ignored me and looked at my mother. "Erika."

  "Savannah, darling, can you please look at me?" I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest before turning my head just enough to level my eyes on my mother.

  "I’m going to assume that Gage overheard our conversation in the bathroom. You went tearing out of there so quickly, and I followed you to the steps where I saw you chasing after him. Darling, I’m sorry if what I said caused the argument, but I want you to understand my side."

  "Psh - your side of what, mother? You put him down because he’s a freaking bartender, and you made him think he was less than us because of that." My voice rose as I sat forward in my chair, now pointing accusingly at my mother. "You are such a snob."

  "You're right, Savannah, I am a snob. And I want what is best for my only child. I don't want you to want for anything in this world."

  "Mother, I could marry a garbage man and not want for anything. This family has plenty of money. We've made our fortune on alcohol, for God's sake, and you want to crucify the bartender I'm in love with? How damn ironic."

  "In love?" my mother squeaked, and my father’s intense gaze scrutinized me.

  I looked down at the floor and bit my lip. From the corner of my eye I saw my mother’s pale white hand reach over and pat my knee. She held it open and I allowed myself to take it. A single tear slid down my cheek.

  "Savannah honey, you didn't tell me you cared for him. You never called me to talk about him, and you didn't tell daddy. I assumed he was just a good looking guy that you brought home to show off. Sweetheart, you know how many of my friends walk their newest young playthings around the club after their husbands are caught cheating? I thought you were playing eye-for-an-eye."

  I thought about Daniel and his 'You know who we are and where we come from speech' and it made me so angry…the fact that the people I'd known all my life treated love so cavalierly.

  "But why did it even matter, momma? Why do you care what any guy I bring home does, especially if I'm happy?"

  "I can answer that for your mother and for myself, Savannah. Actually, I know you already know part of the answer…it's because of who you are."

  I sighed at this, because I did know what he was going to say. It was because of our money, our legacy, what anyone who married me would be a part of. I'd been introduced to this at school when people had first learned who I was. The more money you had, the more people wanted to walk in your shadow.

  My father repeated my thoughts almost word for word, and my mother nodded in agreement.

  "But that's not all," she added, getting up and walking towards the window as she spoke. "Honey, I don't talk about my family for a reason. I grew up very, very poor, Savannah."

  "You what?" I exclaimed, shocked at her revelation.

  "I grew up in a trailer, and often times didn't have enough money for food. My father was a drunk who hit my mother sometimes, and my mother was the housekeeper at a local motel." She shuddered as she looked out the window and I snuck a glance at my father to see what he was thinking. He shook his head at me, and his eyes were sad.

  "I met your father when I was barely eighteen. One day he happened to come into a diner that I was lucky enough to get a job at. He was lost on his way somewhere and had just stopped to ask for directions."

  "But I stayed for the company." He smiled, and my mother turned and smiled back at him.

  "Yes, he stayed for the company. I gave him a piece of pie and some coffee and we talked for hours. He asked for my number when he left, but we didn't even have a phone. So he came back the next day, and the day after that."

  Tears pricked my eyes as I smiled at my parents. "That's how Gage and I met."

  My mother's face was a mask of understanding, and my father sighed. "I fell in love with her instantly, Savannah, and within a month we were getting married."

  "Oh my WORD - why did you never tell me this story? That's romantic and so sweet," I complained, getting up to hug my mother.

  "I'm ashamed, honey. My family didn't have a very good name in our town. When your father took me away from that, I swore I would never look back. Sweetheart, I just wanted to protect you. That's why I pushed you so hard through the years. I think I've been on a quest to prove that I really did belong with these people."

  "Oh momma, you belong here as much as any of the people you know. Probably more than most of them. At least you've always done volunteer and humanitarian work with your money, instead of frittering it away on nonsense like they do."

  "I love you so much Savannah, and I just want you to be happy. If you love this man, then I kno
w I’ll love him too."

  "It may be too late to worry about that."

  "Oh, nonsense. When you get back home to Nashville, you’ll go and talk with him and make him understand how stupid your mother was. He’ll forgive you."

  "I do have to tell you about our discussion Friday, and you both might want to sit down. It’s quite a coincidence that you met Gage, actually." My father laughed, and my mother and I sat nervously.

  "What’s so funny?"

  "Gage isn't just a bartender, honey."

  Thinking of how he also managed bars for new owners, I nodded and waited for a better explanation.

  "He owns the bar you frequent in Nashville, and from what I understand he also owns two in Vegas and is in negotiations for another club in New York City."

  "He owns them?"

  "There's more. His family runs one of the largest entertainment companies around. Taylor Entertainment owns most of the larger clubs, casinos and bars in Australia. Gage is the sole heir to the company."

  I felt light headed as I listened to my father explain it all to me. Apparently Gage had decided to tell my father who he was because Guthry Whiskey was the main distributor of whiskey to their bars. He knew there was a good chance my dad or Uncle would know who he was. That was when I recalled my Uncle's odd reaction to Gage's name at the cocktail reception, and realized that he’d almost blown Gage's cover then.

  Apparently, about two years ago once Gage finished his Masters in business and marketing, he convinced his father to let him come to the U.S. to start looking at clubs to buy here. It was indeed an amazing coincidence that we met at The Garage.

  "Well I'll be," muttered my mother. She looked positively shell shocked.

  "When we fought last night, he seemed particularly upset about the fact that he thought I was just after a rich man. That money mattered so much to me," I recalled, and then another thought struck me. "Is that why he kept it a secret from me? Was he just testing me or something? Did he tell you?"