Every Little Piece of Me (Orchid Valley Book 1)

by Lexi Ryan

  Roman Humphries stands on Kace’s front sidewalk, hand raised in an awkward wave. Cami’s right behind him, fingers flying on her phone. Roman looks back and forth between us, confusion creasing his brow. “Jesus, Marston Rowe. Is that you?”

  I don’t think this guy did anything but sneer at me the year we went to school together, so I’m taken aback by his smile. It even seems genuine. “Hi, Roman.”

  “Hi, Mom,” Cami says, looking up from her phone. “Do we for real get to stay with Uncle Kace and Hope for a while?”

  “For a little bit,” Brinley says, nodding.

  “Yes!” Cami says, weaving around us to get into the house. She grins at me as she turns the knob. “Hi, Marston.”

  “Hey, Cami,” I say, returning her smile. “Did you have a good time at Disney World?”

  “It was awesome,” she says. “How was your week?”

  “It was . . . fantastic.” Why lie?

  Cami swivels to face her mom. “I’m going to go play with Hope.”

  Brinley nods. “Sure, sweetie. That’s fine.”

  Cami reaches around me, and I step out of the way as she gives her dad a one-armed hug. He kisses the top of her head. “Love you, Daddy. See you in a couple of weeks.”

  “See ya, kiddo.” He squeezes her one last time before releasing her, and then Cami’s off.

  Roman looks back and forth between Brinley and me. “So, you two . . .” Smiling, he shakes his head. “Hell, it was inevitable from the start, wasn’t it?” He sounds almost happy about it, which throws me, to be honest.

  “We’re still figuring it out,” Brinley says. Then more softly, “Don’t say anything yet. I don’t want to confuse Cami.”

  “Julian’s a tool,” Roman says, then says to me, “Whatever part you played in saving my daughter from Brinley’s awful choice in husbands, I commend you.”

  “Stop it,” Brinley growls. “Julian’s a good guy. Or . . . was until recently.” She frowns. “Everyone can be a little dickish when in the middle of a breakup.”

  Roman grunts as if to say, Yeah, right. Whatever you say. “What matters is it’s over.”

  Brinley sighs. “It wasn’t meant to be, but don’t blame that on Julian. I feel bad enough without him being unfairly maligned.”

  Roman throws up his hands. “I won’t say another word.”

  “Thank you,” Brinley says. “Was Cami able to work on her history project on the drive at all?”

  He nods. “Almost done. She said she wanted to color the cover sheet here, but the rest looks good to me.”

  “Good. One less thing to get done before Monday.” She smiles.

  “It’s no problem.” He tucks his hands into his pockets. “You can trust me with more of that stuff, you know. It doesn’t have to be all fun and games when she visits Dad.”

  I look back and forth between them, gauging the dynamic. For all Roman’s faults in high school, he does seem to take co-parenting seriously and have a solid relationship with Cami.

  Brinley wrinkles her nose. “I’m working on it. Trying to cut the apron strings a little at a time.”

  Roman chuckles. “I’ll be patient.” He shifts awkwardly. “Brin, you think you could give Marston and me a minute alone?”

  She turns her wide eyes on me. “Um, I . . .”

  “I was on my way out.” I give Brinley’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll walk with you.”

  Roman’s shoulders fall. “That’d be great. Bye, Brin.”

  She looks back and forth between us—her husband and the father of her child. “Please don’t kill each other.”

  “I think we’ve grown out of that,” Roman says. He winks and heads to the driveway.

  Roman doesn’t scare me, but for his sake, I sure as fuck hope he’s not planning to give me a “don’t hurt her” speech. While I might appreciate it from anyone else, it wouldn’t sit right from the guy who left Brinley to raise a baby alone while she worked her way through college.

  “I owe you an apology.” He huffs out a laugh. “Fuck, I owe you much more than that, but I figure we can start with an apology.”

  “I . . .” I shake my head and let out a hoarse laugh of my own. “I did not expect that.”

  Roman rubs the back of his neck. “I was such a punk kid. For so many reasons, but there’s really no excuse for the hell I put you through. I was jealous and thought I was entitled to whatever I wanted. I saw the way she looked at you and knew she liked you more than me, and . . .” He shrugs. “Like I said, a bunch of excuses but nothing to justify what an ass I was.”

  “I forgive you.” I’m surprised how easily the words roll off my tongue, but they’re true. “It takes a big man to apologize for what he did when he was young. I appreciate it, and I’m sorry for slashing your tires on prom night.”

  Roman chuckles as we stop by his car. “I knew that was you, but I couldn’t prove it.” He clears his throat. “I figure you and Brinley are gonna end up together, and since Brin is a big part of my life because of Cami, I want to do whatever I need to for things to be cool between us.”

  “It’s history, man. Don’t sweat it.”

  His face tenses as he looks back toward the house. “I wasn’t there for her, and I really regret it. I found out she was pregnant and made myself scarce just in case the kid was mine. I didn’t know for sure until Cami was two and a half. I regret missing those early years.” He shakes his head. “I regret it so much.”

  “Judging by what Brinley says, you’re more than making up for it now.”

  His gaze is distant. “Her parents sure didn’t make it easy on her. I’ve tried to help, but Brinley’s proud. She’s always been willing to let me buy clothes and shoes and whatever for Cami, but it took me years to get her to take child support, and I know damn well she’s squirreling most of it away for Cami’s college fund.” He smacks me on the back. “I’m glad she’s got you to help out, but word of warning? Don’t expect her to ask for help when she needs it. That’s just not how Brinley works.”

  I nod. I picked that up the moment I came back to town. “Thanks. And . . . thanks for the apology, too. I’m glad as fuck those years are over.”

  Roman laughs. “Man, me too. Me too.” He opens the door and climbs into his car. “See you around, Marston.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Brinley

  “Mrs. Wright,” I say, pulling my office door wide for the owner of The Orchid. “It’s good to see you. Come on in.”

  I’ve been preparing for this meeting since Mrs. Wright’s housekeeper called me this morning and asked to set up a private meeting with me. I already know I’ve lost my chance to buy the spa, and as a result we may all lose our jobs, but part of me is grateful that things have moved so quickly. Too much of my life has been stuck in limbo lately, and knowing what’s to come on the professional front will be . . . well, it’s one less thing to think about, at least.

  Mrs. Wright grips her cane in a white-knuckled hand as she lowers into the upholstered chair opposite my desk. I stand there until she’s safely seated then take a seat myself in the chair right next to her. I owe this woman for years of the best job I’ve ever had. I’m not going to speak to her from behind a desk.

  “You’ve been busy, haven’t you?” she asks, a devious smile twisting her lips. “A husband and a fiancé. That sounds like something I would’ve tried to get away with in my day.”

  I laugh. I have no idea where she’s getting her information, but I’m not surprised. Mrs. Wright always seems to know what is going on. “I can only plead ignorance, as embarrassing as that is.”

  She waves a hand as if my knowledge of my near bigamy is irrelevant. “You know my kids are anxious for me to sell, and I promised them it’d be done by summer.”

  I bow my head. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

  “I wanted to give you as much time as I could, but I’m not getting any younger, so when you said you couldn’t buy in May as we planned—”

  “I understand.” I wi
nce. I shouldn’t have cut her off, but this is literal torture.

  “I’ve been selective with my buyer, and since I know you worried about what any of the national chains might do if they took over, I tried to avoid the big names.”

  I nod and smile politely, but tears press behind my eyes. Owning The Orchid has been my dream for years, but I have to let it go. I can see now that my belief that I could eventually buy it is a sign of how spoiled I’ve been my whole life. “It was kind of you to consider my wishes. You certainly didn’t have to.”

  She huffs. “Well, you have made me a great deal of money over the years, so that’s worth something, isn’t it? My kids just see this place as the money pit it was before you came on. They have no idea what it’s been making me in recent years.” She winks and whispers, “Can’t let them know too much, or they’ll come around looking for their share.”

  I laugh. “Well, I’m glad you thought my efforts were worthwhile.”

  “Indeed. And it was easy to prove that with the numbers as well. As a result, the company that’s taking over has agreed to let the current staff stay on.”

  “Who’s the buyer?”

  “The name of the business is BEK, LTD.” She gives me a grim smile. “I know it’s not the same as making The Orchid yours, but it’s the best I could do, Brinley.”

  My eyes well with tears, but I take a deep breath and tighten that string that seems to be all that’s holding me together these days. “You did more than you had to. You have for years. And I’m grateful.”

  I rarely close my door when I’m not in a private meeting, but after Mrs. Wright leaves, I do. I close it and curl up in a ball in my chair, looking out over Lake Blackledge. I won’t cry. No. I’ll save that for later. But I need some quiet moments—my chance to say goodbye to my dream.

  We got off easy. My friends and I will still have jobs. There’s more here to be grateful for than not . . . but still I need to grieve.

  When there’s a knock at my door, I ignore it and keep staring.

  The door opens anyway. “Hey, baby boo,” Stella says. “I wanted to check on you.”

  “Hey.” I force a smile. “I have good news. The new owner is going to keep us in our positions.” I don’t add for the time being, even though the pessimist in me knows it’s easy for them to make those promises now and then change the rules the moment something suits them better.

  She lowers herself into a chair across from my desk and sighs. “Well, that is good news, but it’s not the reason I was worried about you.”

  “Oh?”

  “Promise you won’t freak out.” I nod, and her brow wrinkles with her frown. “I’m friendly with Mrs. Wright’s finance guy, and he just called to give me the scoop on who bought the spa.”

  “BEK, LTD,” I say. “Whoever the hell that is.” It’s not like I’m privy to all the companies and individuals who’ve been considering the purchase, but I know enough about some to know who to be on the lookout for. That one wasn’t on my radar.

  Stella gives me a sad smile. “Honey, it’s Marston,” she says. “He’s BEK, LTD.”

  My heart squeezes hard and sinks just as suddenly. “Marston?”

  She stands and wrings her hands. “You said you wouldn’t freak out.”

  Swallowing hard, I shake my head. “I’m not.” I don’t trust myself to say much more. My hands are already trembling. He did this for me, I have no doubt.

  Just like my parents paid for my first house and first car.

  Just like Julian cut me a deal so I could live in a condo I couldn’t afford.

  Marston’s not like them, but a slick, slimy feeling coats my skin as I realize what this could mean—for me, for my friends, for any future relationship I might’ve tried for with Marston.

  Nausea rolls over me, and I bring the back of my hand to my mouth.

  “I wanted to tell you before he did. He’s out in the lobby chatting with Savvy, and I don’t think he understands you might not like this.”

  Might not like this. It makes me feel like the spoiled little rich girl again. The fragile thing who couldn’t do for herself and messed it up any time she tried. The trapped girl who only had one thing that was ever really hers—and when she panicked and pushed him away, she didn’t even have him anymore.

  I look up when Marston steps into my office.

  “Hey, Stella!” He’s grinning and looks so damn handsome. I could almost forget my worries if they weren’t sitting on my chest like a five-ton elephant. He’s dressed down today in jeans and a dress shirt rolled to his elbows, no tie, and when he turns to me, his eyes brighten with joy. “Good morning, beautiful,” he says softly.

  I lift my chin, but everything inside me is too tight. Like I’m made up of thousands of tiny strings that are all about to snap. “Morning.”

  “I’ll just go,” Stella says, sidestepping him.

  Marston flashes her a confused smile, but she waves and pulls the door closed behind her as she goes.

  He strolls toward me and walks around to my side of the desk before leaning against the edge. “Remember when I was in Atlanta and told you I bought you a gift?” He pulls a skinny box from his pocket and puts it on the desk in front of me.

  I close my eyes as each of the strings holding me together is pulled a fraction tighter. Pretty soon they’ll snap and I’ll fall apart. “I told you I didn’t want you to buy me anything.” When his knuckles brush along my cheek, I open my eyes again.

  “Don’t be sad, baby. You’ll want this. I promise.” He lifts the lid off the box, revealing a delicate blown-glass orchid inside.

  I don’t speak. I can’t.

  “I know how important this is to you, and I realized that by canceling your wedding to Julian, you were giving up something you’ve spent years working for.”

  “So you bought it for yourself?” I barely recognize my own voice. It sounds hollow. I should be grateful for his generosity, but . . . I thought Marston understood. I thought he knew me.

  “For you. I bought it for you.” He tilts his head to the side, studying me. “Because you couldn’t.”

  “So it’s mine?” I hate myself for the words, for the sneer in my tone, for the panic that’s making me turn to ice and shove him away. “On what condition?” I ask, my voice shaking.

  “I don’t understand what the problem is. There are no conditions. There are no stipulations. I formed a shell company I can transfer to you at any time.”

  “You bought me a multimillion-dollar business for nothing? You’re just going to hand it over?” I shake my head. “Don’t condescend me. I’m not a child.”

  He stands, irritation clear in his face. “And I’m not your parents.”

  “What if I told you I still want the divorce? That I don’t want to move to L.A. with you? Would I still have my job here, or would the new owner take it away?”

  “I don’t expect you to move to L.A. Alec and I were in Atlanta scoping sites for a new office. Our business has grown. We can have dual headquarters now, and Atlanta makes sense. I can commute for the time being, and then when you’re ready and you’ve trained someone to run this place, we can buy a place there.”

  I shake my head. “Tell me you aren’t making plans for my life without me.”

  He takes my hands and pulls me out of the chair. “I’m making plans with you. And I’ve been listening. You want Cami to be able to see her father more. You want your friends who work here to be secure in their jobs, and you want to own the business you’ve worked so hard for. I’m giving you all those things.”

  I press my hand to my chest. “All I want is to be independent. I want to take care of myself so I can control my own life. You took that away from me when you bought this place.”

  His jaw is tight. “That’s such bullshit, Brinley. You were happy to let Julian put you up in that condo, but you couldn’t move in with me. You were planning to take that trust from your parents, but you wouldn’t take money from me. You say you want to be independent, but
what you really mean is you don’t want anything from me.”

  I straighten and back up a step as if it might help me dodge the blow of his words. “Julian wanted me and Cami to live there. It made sense when we were about to get married.”

  “You and I are already married,” he snaps. He scoops the box with the glass orchid off the desk and sneers down at it. Then it’s his turn to back away. “But I guess just on paper, right? Have you even told your parents about me yet? Were you ever planning to tell them about your husband, or did you keep me your dirty little secret like you always have?”

  I wrap my arms around myself, but it does nothing to soothe the hollow ache I feel there. “They’re still trying to come to terms with me canceling my wedding to Julian.”

  “So, you’ll tell them next week? Next month? Next year? Will it ever be a good time to admit that you want to be with a piece of shit like me?”

  I choke back a sob, wishing he’d never come in that door, wishing I’d had time to get my feelings in line before I had to explain them to him. “They don’t see you like I do. They look at you and see . . .” My stomach heaves. I’m going to be sick.

  “Finish that sentence,” he says. But I can’t. He knows I can’t. When I bow my head, he huffs out a breath. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

  “You’re not being fair.”

  “Fair? I’d do anything for you. Anything at all. And that’s always been true. I told myself you’d do the same if circumstance hadn’t been in the way.” He pulls the glass orchid from the box, and I can’t tear my eyes away, convinced the neck will snap at any moment in his angry hands. There’s too much hurt in the air, and it’s too fragile. “I’m realizing now I’ve been lying to myself.”

  He tosses the orchid onto my desk, and it shatters into a million little pieces. I stare and stare and stare. I stare, knowing the answers would be there if I could put it together again. I stare, knowing I can’t.

  They’ll always look at you and see the reason they lost their daughter.

  I can’t make myself look up, but Marston’s footsteps echo in my ears as he walks away.