The Harder They Fall (Bishop Family Book 7)
Page 1
The
Harder
They Fall
By:
Brooke St. James
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form or by any means without prior written permission of the author.
Copyright © 2017
Brooke St. James
All rights reserved.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Other titles available from Brooke St. James:
Another Shot:
A Modern-Day Ruth and Boaz Story
When Lightning Strikes
Something of a Storm (All in Good Time #1)
Someone Someday (All in Good Time #2)
Finally My Forever (Meant for Me #1)
Finally My Heart's Desire (Meant for Me #2)
Finally My Happy Ending (Meant for Me #3)
Shot by Cupid's Arrow
Dreams of Us
Meet Me in Myrtle Beach (Hunt Family #1)
Kiss Me in Carolina (Hunt Family #2)
California's Calling (Hunt Family #3)
Back to the Beach (Hunt Family #4)
It's About Time (Hunt Family #5)
Loved Bayou (Martin Family #1)
Dear California (Martin Family #2)
My One Regret (Martin Family #3)
Broken and Beautiful (Martin Family #4)
Back to the Bayou (Martin Family #5)
Almost Christmas
JFK to Dublin (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #1)
Not Your Average Joe (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #2)
So Much for Boundaries (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #3)
Suddenly Starstruck (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #4)
Love Stung (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #5)
My American Angel (Shower & Shelter Artist Collective #6)
Summer of '65 (Bishop Family #1)
Jesse's Girl (Bishop Family #2)
Maybe Memphis (Bishop Family #3)
So Happy Together (Bishop Family #4)
My Little Gypsy (Bishop Family #5)
Malibu by Moonlight (Bishop Family #6)
Chapter 1
Shelby Kennedy
Memphis, Tennessee
It's never, ever wise to eavesdrop—especially once you realize that the topic of the conversation is you. The fact that someone waits until you leave the room to have a discussion should tell you that they didn't want you to hear it.
I shouldn't have hesitated.
I should have just kept on walking.
I knew better than to stand there and listen.
There was a big group of us at my grandparents' house for a family dinner, and I excused myself because I had left my phone in my car. They thought I was outside, but I wasn't, and once I heard my name, it was impossible for me to move. It was only my family, after all, and I knew they wouldn't say anything bad about me.
On the far side of the kitchen was a hallway that led to the side entrance of the house. That was the door closest to the place where I had parked in the driveway, so I headed in that direction. I went down the hallway and opened the door to go outside, but instead of walking out of it, I turned on my heel and headed back toward the kitchen. I did this because I realized that I wouldn't have much luck getting into my car without my keys. There was probably no need to lock my car while it was sitting in my grandparents' driveway, but I was in the habit of doing it. I sighed in frustration as I headed back toward the kitchen to retrieve my keys, letting the outside door close behind me.
I stopped short when I heard someone say my name. There was a sizeable group of people standing in the kitchen, but I knew their voices, and I could tell right away who had mentioned me. It was Courtney.
My cousin, Daniel, had married a pop star named Courtney Cole. In spite of being famous, she was a real down to earth person. In the time since she and Daniel had been together, she had become one of my closest friends. She had technically changed her last name to Bishop when they got married, but she was so famous that she publically kept her maiden name to avoid confusion.
"I really, really want to introduce Shelby to my architect," I heard her announce once she thought I was out of earshot. "I think they'd be so good together."
I was walking at a good clip as I headed back to get my keys, but just as soon as I heard her statement, I came to a screeching halt, leaning against the wall in a not-so-graceful way to stop my forward momentum.
I remained still, hoping no one had heard me, and I listened for them to continue. I was instantly curious because it struck me that Courtney waited until I left the room to make the comment instead of just saying it while I was in there.
"Why do you have an architect?" Ivy asked.
I could tell it was the voice of my cousin—the youngest of all the grandkids and the namesake of our grandmother.
"Because she doesn't know how to design buildings," Daniel said, teasing his little sister.
I should have gone into the kitchen at this point—or outside even—I should have used the distraction of Ivy's question to do something besides stand there and continue to listen to their conversation. But I didn't.
"I know what an architect does," Ivy said. "I just forgot about the building, so I didn't know why Courtney needed one."
"What's his name?" My mom asked.
I could hear murmuring of more distant conversations and clanging of pots and pans, but I stood there and listened intently.
"Isaac," Courtney said. "Isaac Charles."
"Two first names," Ivy said. "You could switch 'em, and it would still be a good name. Charles Isaac. See?"
"I guess so," Courtney said. "Either way, he's talented, single, and super sweet. I'd really like him to meet Shelby."
Her words caused me to visibly flinch. I didn't want to be set-up. I didn't like being set-up. My friends and family had been trying to set me up for what must have been ten years now, and I never enjoyed the process or the results.
"Is he good lookin'?" Ivy asked.
"Why else do you think I would want to introduce him to Shelby?" Courtney said.
"I'm single," Ivy said.
"No, you're not!" My uncle Jesse chimed in from the other side of the room when he heard his daughter.
"Yes, I am, Dad."
"Not in my book," Jesse said. "And especially not for the man Courtney's talking about."
"What's wrong with Isaac?" Courtney asked, sounding offended.
"I read an article on him in yesterday's paper saying that during the last decade, he has become one of the most sought-after architects in America."
"And what's the matter with that?" Ivy asked.
"He's too old for you, that's what!" Aunt Rose's tone was jovial yet impassive, and I could tell by the way she said it that she was looking at her daughter like she was insane.
I smiled and bit my lip. Again, I felt bad for standing there listening, and I considered reentering the room to get my keys or simply abandoning my quest for my phone. No one really knew or cared why I had left in the first place—it wasn't like anyone was really keeping tabs on me.
"That's a big deal," my mom said.
"And the fact that Shelby doesn't date," Daniel added.
"Shelby's grandparents live in Chicago," Mom added, not paying attention to Daniel's statement. "Gray grew up there, and his family's still there."
"What about my family?" Dad hollered from the other room.
"Aunt Jane was just saying they live in Chicago!" Ivy yelled.
"Why doesn't Shelby date?" Courtney's question was asked in a rushed, discreet way that led me to believe she was genuinely curious and she wanted to get the answer to it before I came back. "Daniel said she's never had a serious boyfriend, and she's just such a beautiful girl that I—"
"We don't ask her," Mom said, cutting Courtney off. "I guess she's just never found the right gentleman."
"Shelby's biological father passed away when she was a little baby." My grandmother's voice was unmistakable, and my eyes widened at her statement.
"You think that's got something to do with why she stays single?" Ivy asked, sounding somewhat confused.
"I'm not saying it has everything to do with it," Shug said. "But it's probably a factor. She knows her mother had to do it alone until she met Gray."
"I've never even thought of that," Mom said. "You think that's in the back of her mind?"
My heart pounded as I stood there listening to them. I wondered when and how I could possibly reenter the room.
"I don't really know," Shug said. "Maybe not. Maybe it's just that she hasn't found the right person like Jane said. All I'm saying is that the dear child could have reason to be cautious."
"I'm really sorry," Courtney said. "I didn't even know Shelby's dad passed away. I thought Uncle Gray was her…" she trailed off. I could hear the concern in her voice. She had just given birth to her and Daniel's firstborn child, a son, and it was obvious by her regretful tone that she was imagining herself in my mom's position.
"I actually forgot about it, too," Ivy said. "I mean I knew it, but I forgot. That's how little we talk about it. Uncle Gray just acts like her dad."
"Of course he does," Mom said.
I was unable to move or even think straight.
I was the oldest of all the grandchildren by a significant stretch. We were all in our twenties, but I was pushing thirty. There were six of us. Two of my younger cousins were married and one was about to get engaged. (I had just helped him choose the ring.) The youngest two, Wes and Ivy, were the only two besides me who weren't in serious relationships—not that I was counting. Okay, maybe I was.
Every time I read a historical romance novel, and the word spinster was mentioned, I blinked and skipped over it, feeling embarrassed like I didn't want that term to define me even though somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew it did.
The thing was, I didn't even know why I had remained single all these years. It wasn't like I woke up every day soul-searching and asking myself deep questions like that. I had a job, and a house, and a dog, and I was basically content with my life the way it was.
I stood in the hallway, thinking about my grandmother's words and wondering if the untimely death of my biological father had anything to do with the fact that I never got into serious relationships. I had never really thought about it before, but there was a pang in my chest that made me feel like maybe there was some truth to her statement. I didn't want to fall in love and have a baby only to have my husband die on me. That seemed like a terrible option. Things had obviously worked out for Mom in the long run, and she was ultimately happy with her life the way it was, but I knew there had been pain in the process.
I had been standing there listening for too long. I had to physically react before anything more was said. I turned and silently tiptoed to the outside door. I opened and closed it with enough force to make a noise.
"I forgot my keys!" I called as I turned and walked toward the kitchen. I rounded the corner. "I got all the way out there and realized my car was locked," I added, crossing the room with a big fake smile on my face.
My purse was sitting on the floor near the edge of the bar, and I knelt to dig in it without looking at any of them. Conversations were still going on in the living room, so my reentry wasn't awkward for anyone but me.
"Courtney wants to hook you up with some hotshot architect from Chicago," Ivy said.
I glanced at her with a smile. "She does?" I asked, shifting to look at Courtney as I stood up. "My grandparents live in Chicago," I said. Maybe it was a silly thing for me to add since I knew they had already talked about it, but it was all I could come up with at the moment.
"That's what I heard," Courtney said with a smile. "Isaac lives there, too, although he's here in Memphis now, working on my project."
"Too cold for me," I said, shaking my head with a dismissive smile.
"You haven't even met him yet," she teased.
"Chicago's too cold," I said, clarifying even though she knew I was joking.
"Well, Isaac's a neat guy," Courtney said, with a sweet shrug. "I've been working with him for months over the phone and email, but every time I see him in person, I think about you."
I smiled. "Why? Does he need a haircut?" Everyone standing around laughed, including Courtney. I could have probably made a similar joke no matter what my occupation was, but the haircut comment worked as a perfect distraction, and it was times like these I was glad I was a hairstylist.
"Why, do you take customers?" Courtney asked, with wide-eyed interest. "Would you give him a haircut? He's staying here for the next month. I could totally refer him to you. That would be perfect."
I had a spare bedroom at my house that I repurposed as a salon. I had a chair, a dryer, and a shampoo bowl, but it was only for family. My full-time job and primary focus was at WMC News, Memphis's number one news station. I did makeup and cut and styled our anchor's hair on a daily basis, so my honest answer to Courtney was, "No, I don't take customers. I have some friends who would do a great job, though, if he needs a haircut while he's here."
"I wasn't really trying to find him a stylist," Courtney said, squinting at me with a smile. "I wanted you to meet him."
I returned her smile and gave her a lighthearted shrug as I tossed my keys a few inches into the air and then caught them. "Maybe I can fit a haircut into my busy schedule," I said nonchalantly as I walked to the hallway again. "Now I'm really going to get my phone," I added, rolling my eyes at myself for having forgot my keys the first time.
I disappeared around the corner before anyone else had time to interject. My heart was beating like crazy, and I was altogether breathless as I made my way through the door and across the driveway to my car. I was only running from a conversation, but it felt more like I was running for my life. The truth was that I had no desire to meet this guy, but I knew that I would have to pretend to be okay with it just to prove to my family that I wasn't incapable of having a relationship.
Chapter 2
Thankfully, by the time I retrieved my phone from my car, everyone was content to drop the subject of Courtney's bachelor architect.
We spent the rest of the evening at Shug and Doozy's house eating barbeque and talking about other things that didn't have to do with my nonexistent love life. The conversation I had overheard was still on my mind, though, and before we left, I told Courtney (in front of everyone else) that I wouldn't mind giving her architect a haircut if he needed one while he was in Memphis.
This opportunity came sooner than expected.
Well, not exactly the haircut, but I did have Isaac Charles in my chair two days later.
I only worked four days a week, but they were long days in which I covered both the noon and six o'clock news with some on-location and special segment shooting before and in between those shows.
We were prepping for the twelve o'clock news when my director, Paul, came over to my station looking wide-eyed and panicked. "
I guess he's planning on wearing a T-shirt for his interview," he said in stress-filled hushed tones. "And he's refusing to come over here for hair and makeup."
"Who is that?" I asked, looking over Paul's shoulder. There were several men in the room, but I knew which one he was stressed about because, aside from our producers and cameramen, this mystery person was the only one in the room wearing a T-shirt. It was nice, and it had long sleeves, but it was definitely a T-shirt.
Paul sighed. "I clearly said in the email that he should wear work attire for the interview."
"Maybe he's planning on changing," I said.
"For the interview that starts in less than ten minutes?" Paul asked, staring disapprovingly at his watch.
"Just ask him if he's got a different shirt," I said. "Or maybe he can change into one of Neil's. His jeans are dark enough that he could get away with borrowing one of Neil's dress shirts."
"We really don't have time for all that," Paul said with a grimace. "Plus, he's bigger than Neil."
"Who is he?" I asked.
"His name's Isaac Charles," he said. "I thought you would have met him by now. He's the guy who designed the new art center that's being built downtown. Courtney Cole hired him. She brought him in from Chicago." Paul changed his expression to a welcoming smile and motioned for Isaac to come our way. I stood there and watched as he approached. "We need to go ahead and get you in the chair," Paul said, motioning to my station.
I had already finished with Neil, Greg, and Cindy, so my chair was empty, and I smiled and gestured toward it, inviting Isaac to have a seat. He tentatively sat down. Paul shot me a conspiratorial expression that meant good luck with this one before he patted Isaac's shoulder and turned to walk away.
"I'm Shelby," I said with a smile, introducing myself the same way I did to every other new face that sat in my chair. "If you're planning on changing shirts, you need to go ahead and do it now. I don't want you to have to take this one off after we get you all fixed up."