Charming Fiona

by Jessica Prince

  Lola couldn’t attend thanks to her mandated bed rest, so she and Grayson celebrated alone at their house.

  Other than worrying, I’d spent the majority of my vacation from Prentice Fashion helping out at Deacon’s bar, updating his accounting and scheduling systems so they ran more efficiently. Shockingly enough, I really enjoyed it—not because I liked bookkeeping, but because I felt like I was a part of something bigger, more important. Working at The Black Sheep alongside Deacon made me feel like I was finally doing what I was meant to be doing. I was working with my man, helping him build and nurture his dream. Just like my mom had done with my father.

  It was exactly where I wanted to be. And because of that, I was kind of dreading the offices opening in two days. It meant I’d be too busy with my own work to go to The Black Sheep and help out.

  For the time being, I decided to push that thought to the back of my mind and live in the now. And in the “now” I’d just been struck with a genius idea that I couldn’t wait to share with Deacon. Jumping up from the desk I’d been sitting at in Deacon’s cramped, messy office, I rushed down the hall and into the main part of the bar.

  I spotted Deacon sling drinks behind the bar and made my way to him. “Deac, honey. You got a minute?”

  He gave me the universal sign for one second, then drained the contents of the silver shaker into a tumbler before topping it with an orange slice. Once finished, he came my way and leaned in close to me. “You bored out of your mind and want to call it quits yet?” he asked, a crooked smirk on his face.

  I returned the grin, trailing a finger along the back of Deacon’s hand. “Not at all. I actually love it. And I’m done for tonight, but that’s not what I want to talk to you about.”

  Deacon stood and came around to me, taking my hand in his. “Let’s go in the back where it’s quieter.”

  I let him lead me back to the office, following eagerly as the idea swimming around in my head made me more and more excited the longer I thought about it. He pulled me into the office and shut the door, but before I could get a word out, Deacon pinned me against the wall and started laying wet, toe-curling kisses down my neck.

  “Mm, Deacon. Deac. Wait.” I laughed, suddenly breathless and wobbly-legged as he pulled back. “You know I’m always down for an office quickie, but I really want to talk to you about something first. Then we can get back to that,” I added with a wink.

  That sexy grin returned to his face and he lifted his head, but he didn’t move away. “All right, shoot.”

  Resting my hands on his chest, I started exuberantly, “Okay, so I had a brilliant idea while I was going through the finances. The Black Sheep is doing well, really well actually, but I think I’ve come up with an idea to make it even more profitable.”

  Deacon’s smile fell and his expression went blank, but I was too far gone in my story to really notice. “I was thinking, what if you had an open mic night? You’ve got more than enough space to put a stage in. All it would take is reorganizing the tables, and—”

  “Whoa, whoa. Just hold on for a second.” Deacon’s hands went up to stop me as he took a step back. “Fee, this place isn’t a tacky karaoke bar.”

  “No, of course not. I’m not talking about a karaoke bar. The Black Sheep is too classy to do something like that. An open mic night is completely different. And this is the perfect place for it. Just think about it, Deac. Seattle has some of the most talented unsigned bands in the country. You could have them sign up, then come in during off hours to audition so you could be certain they were good before giving them a spot. You’ve got plenty of money to cover the upfront cost of any construction needed to put in the stage and lighting and all that stuff. And the acoustics in this place are amazing.

  “Once this gets off the ground, I was thinking we could try to expand to bigger acts. Not full-blown concerts, but maybe private shows. Have you heard of Civil Corruption? They’re one of the most popular bands on the planet. And they’re local, Deac! If they agreed to do a small show, we could sell tickets and close the doors to the public for events like that. The price of the tickets and implementing a two-drink minimum would more than cover the cost of closing down to the public and losing on potential sales. Plus it would take the Black Sheep’s reputation to the next level. Just imagine how much you could make with only a few private concerts a year. The bar would explode! The Black Sheep would be the go-to place for fantastic live music!” I ended on a gleeful squeal.

  It wasn’t until I was finished speaking that I noticed Deacon’s stony demeanor. He didn’t seem nearly as excited as I was. “What’s the matter?”

  “What’s the matter?” Deacon mimicked sarcastically.

  My head jerked back while my stomach twisted into a violent knot of tension. I was dumbfounded by his reaction. “Are you… I’m sorry, are you mad at me?”

  He jerked his hands through his hair as he started pacing. Deacon’s voice dripped with bitterness when he spoke. “Mad? Why would I be mad? I mean, it’s not like I have a right to be upset that my girlfriend thinks my bar’s a goddamn joke, right?”

  The hostility coming off him in waves crashed into me so hard that I had to take a step back. “What?” I whispered in utter disbelief.

  Deacon stopped and skewered me with a vicious look. “That’s what you’re saying, right? You’re obviously not happy with the amount coming in already. What, worried you’ll be hitching yourself to a broke loser who can’t take care of his family if you stick with me?”

  “Of course not!” I cried as I desperately tried to keep up with the conversation so I could hopefully figure out what the hell was going on. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the fact that you think I’m a failure.”

  “I do not!” I shouted, confusion mixing with anger and anxiety, a very toxic combination. “I never said that! I love this bar. I just want to help you succeed. They were only ideas, Deacon.”

  “Christ, you sound just like my father.”

  Tears started to sting my nose and burn the backs of my eyes as I shouted, “What?”

  “Yeah.” A bark of brittle, humorless laughter burst from his throat. “The old man thinks everything I’ve tried to build here is nothing more than a childish act of rebellion that’s doomed for failure. And apparently so do you.”

  My hands went up, arms extended in front of me. “Wait, just… hold on a second. That’s not true. I don’t think you’re going to fail. I’ve never thought you’d fail at this. I don’t know what you’re talking about with your dad, but that’s not how I feel at all. Is that what’s been bugging you all week? Did you and he get in a fight or something?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Was he kidding? “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to. Something happened between you and your dad, and whatever it was, you’re taking your anger out on me. I’m not going to be your punching bag, Deac. If something’s upset you, I want you to talk to me about it.”

  He clasped his fingers together at the back of his neck as he looked up at the ceiling. I watched for several seconds as his chest rose and fell with deep breaths. The whole time I watched on silently, dread coiled in the pit of my stomach.

  Finally, Deacon dropped his arms and blew out a loud exhale while shifting his gaze to his feet. “Look, I’m sorry. I just… I have a lot of shit on my mind right now, and I need to get it straight on my own. Maybe it would be best if you stayed at your house tonight.”

  My heart splintered into a thousand pieces and crashed to the floor. “I—what? No. No, I’m not doing that.”

  “Jesus, Fee,” he barked, making me jump. “Can you just give me some space. I need time to think.”

  I wasn’t going to cry. I refused to break down and fucking cry. “If I recall correctly, the last time I told you I needed some time to think, you told me I could have it as long as I did it with you.” Goddamn it, my voice cracked on those last two words, and I had to sniff against the threatening t
ears.

  Deacon finally looked up, his jaw ticking as he took in my pale, stricken face. “That doesn’t work for me. Please try and understand—”

  “Understand?” I snapped. “What exactly is it that you want me to understand, Deacon? That you’re a hypocrite who refuses to make the same compromises you demand of me? Or is it that you want me to understand why you’re putting bullshit words in my mouth and picking a fight for reasons totally unknown to me? Or maybe you want me to understand that when something’s bothering you, like whatever you’ve been dealing with for the past freaking week, you’ll shut me out instead of confiding in me.”

  “Fee—”

  “Sorry to break it to you, Deac, but that’s not going to work for me. You got pissed and stormed into my office when I tried doing the same thing. I’ll be damned if I let you push me away.”

  “Goddamn it, Fiona,” he snarled.

  “What’s going on with you and your dad?”

  “I’m not doing this with you.”

  I repeated, “What’s going on with you and your dad?”

  “I don’t have time for this shit. I’ve got a bar full of people out there.”

  With that, I snapped and shouted, “What’s going on with you and your dad?”

  “He wants me to be just like Grayson!” he yelled in return, stunning me into silence. “He’s always wanted me to be just like Grayson. His perfect son. The goddamn golden boy. I’ve never been good enough, and as far as he’s concerned, my bar’s nothing more than a fucking joke.”

  The fury and pain in his voice hit me like a sledgehammer, forcing me to take a step back. “Deacon,” I whispered brokenly. “Honey, your dad loves you. He’s proud of—”

  “Really?” he interrupted. “Is that why he pulled me into his office during the party and told me it was time to grow up and join him and Grayson at Bandwidth? Is that why he claimed that this place, everything I’ve worked my ass off to build, was nothing more than an act of rebellion?”

  “That….” I was in total shock. “He said that?”

  “I might have paraphrased, but that sums it up, yeah,” he answered, his expression like thunder.

  I shook my head and looked away, unable to comprehend the Nolan Lockhart I knew speaking so callously to his own son. “I can’t believe that.”

  “Hard for you to believe that the wonderful Nolan and Grayson aren’t as perfect as you expected, huh?” he chided, storming past me to the door.

  “Deacon, wait. Please—”

  “Tell you what. You take that time to wrap your head around the truth. I need to get back to work. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Then he stormed out, leaving me reeling and heartbroken.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Deacon

  I was an asshole.

  And a coward.

  I’d taken all my issues with my own family out on Fiona, and she hadn’t deserved any of it. My head was completely fucked up. My father’s words twisted in my mind until I convinced myself that I wasn’t good enough for a woman like Fee. That thought was what kept me from reaching out to her, even though I knew, deep in my gut, that it was the right thing to do.

  That was why I was currently holed up in my house, alone and miserable, with nothing but a bottle of Jack for company.

  I was a quarter of a way through when someone started pounding on my front door. Knowing Fee wasn’t strong enough to nearly beat my door down, I chose to ignore the persistent knocking—that was, until my brother’s loud, booming voice joined in.

  “Deac, open up. I know you’re in there! Your car’s in the driveway!”

  “Son of a bitch,” I grumbled under my breath as I pushed up from the couch and shuffled toward the door.

  “Deacon!”

  “Jesus, I’m coming!” I boomed in return to get him to stop his hammering. As soon as I got the door open Grayson shoved his way inside. “Sure, yeah. Come on in,” I huffed. “After all, I love uninvited company.”

  He stormed into the living room and came to a sudden stop, spinning around to take in the trash that had been piling up the past two days. Empty pizza boxes and beer bottles were littered around the coffee table and floor, day-old Chinese food containers scattered on the side table.

  “Christ, Deac. This place is a pit. And what’s that smell?” His face scrunched up in disgust after he sniffed, moving closer to me. “Good God,” he uttered, jerking back. “When the hell was the last time you showered? You’re fucking ripe.”

  Dipping my head, I gave my underarm a sniff, wincing at the stench. “I’ve been off work. Excuse me for wanting to spend the past couple days relaxing.”

  Gray spotted the Jack Daniels. “Yeah? Is that also your excuse for downing hard liquor before three in the afternoon on a Wednesday?”

  I flopped back down on the couch, my head at one end, feet on the other, and turned back to the TV. “Yup. And you’re interrupting my relaxation, so do me a favor and spit out why you’re here so you can go and let me get back to it.”

  He smacked my feet off the couch, forcing me to sit up to look at him. “I’m here, asshole, because you’re fucking up. Daphne talked to Fiona yesterday. She wouldn’t go into detail with what was happening, but she admitted that you two got in a fight, and now you’re totally shutting her out. That means Daphne got upset and called Sophia, who then called Lola, and now they’re all upset. And you might not have experienced that yet, but the full force of those women all pissed off at the same time has detrimental outcomes for the men in their lives. Which means now I’m upset, because I’m not a big fan of my wife giving me the fucking silent treatment and kicking me out of our bedroom at night to sleep on the couch because, and this is a direct quote, ‘I share DNA with a dickhead!’ So tell me, little brother, what the hell is going on with you?”

  I rested my elbows on my knees and dropped my head into my hands, digging the heels of my palms into my eye sockets. “I’m an asshole,” I finally admitted on a groan. “God, Gray, I’m such a fucking asshole.”

  He sat on the coffee table across from me and started talking. “Look, I know you and I have had our issues in the past. To be honest, I’m not even completely sure why we haven’t been closer until recently, but you’re my brother, Deac. Whatever’s going on with you, I’m here.”

  I’d spent my childhood resenting Grayson because I felt my dad had him on a pedestal I’d never be able to climb. Then our adult life was tarnished because of my animosity over him and Fiona. I never talked about it with anyone, but there was a part of me that wanted to hate my brother for always having it all. He was the honor student, the class president, the most popular guy in school. And because I’d always blamed him on some level, I’d spent my life striving to go in the opposite direction.

  The sad truth was I’d let the rift between us last far too long, allowing it to bleed into every aspect of my life. Looking up at him, I finally opened up and admitted to all the childish bullshit I’d let stand between me and him all our lives.

  “You know, Dad used to ride my ass growing up. About grades, getting into fights, the girls I hung out with, anything he thought I was doing wrong. He was always on my case. ‘Why can’t you be more like Grayson?’ ‘Grayson has a 4.0 GPA. If you’d apply yourself like your brother, you could do just as well.’ ‘Why can’t you just meet a nice girl and settle down like Grayson has with Fiona?’ It was always a fucking comparison. No matter what I did, it was never as good as how you’d have done it, so eventually I just stopped trying.”

  Grayson’s eye widened in shock. “Shit, Deacon. I had no idea.”

  “I know. I mean, how could you? It wasn’t like I told you about any of it. Honestly, I don’t even know if Dad realized what he was doing. It just got to the point where eventually, I was done. Then you started dating Fee.”

  Blowing out a sigh, he combed his fingers through his hair while looking off to the side. “I didn’t know about that, man. I swear. I had no idea you had feelings for her. I just t
hought you guys were friends. I never would have—”

  I held my hand up to stop him. “I know. I should’ve said something. That’s on me. Unfortunately, it took me too damn long to realize that. I blamed you for being the good son, and I blamed you for taking Fee from me, but the truth was you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “If you’d just talked to me about Dad, maybe I could’ve said something, and I don’t know… gotten him to back off or something.”

  A self-deprecating chuckle worked its way past my lips. “There were a lot of things I should’ve talked to you about. Hindsight’s a real bitch sometimes.”

  “So tell me what happened with Fee.”

  Just thinking about it made my chest squeeze so tight that it hurt to breathe. I’d fucked up, but all I could do was pray the damage wasn’t irreparable. My stomach twisted and roiled at the thought of losing her. The anxiety settled in my gut like rancid food.

  “I let the fight with Dad at the party get to me. I stewed on it instead of talking to her, and eventually just blew up.”

  “Wow. That’s so unlike you,” Grayson chided sardonically.

  Flipping him off, I continued, “She had an idea for the bar that she was really excited about, and I twisted it up, turning it into something bad. I accused her of thinking I was a failure just like Dad.”

  “Jesus,” he hissed. “You screwed up worse than I thought. God, you’re an idiot!”

  “No need to be a prick about it. I feel bad enough as it is. I’m well aware of my tendency to overreact when I’m pissed off.”

  He stood from the coffee table and crossed his arms, staring me down in that condescending way only older brothers could pull off. “Okay, so the question now is what are you going to do about it? It’s been two days, Deac. That’s one day and twenty-three hours too long.”