May the Best Man Win

by BJ Bentley

  Yeah, I was getting in there, working my way past those defenses.

  Look out, Sophie James, I was about to lay siege.

  ***

  “I’m divorcing your father.”

  I stood, speechless, in the middle of my mother’s hotel suite watching her sip her morning tea, some fancy oolong blend that had to be purchased from some specialty tea shop an hour away. Funny that she complained about the service last night when this morning they obviously had someone willing to run all over Oregon for fucking tea.

  My parents had been married for nearly thirty years, and I’d never even heard them argue. Of course, that was due at least in part to my mother’s deep-rooted desire to do anything and everything to please my father. She wasn’t one to rock the boat. Plus, I’d been in Portland for years and rarely made any trips back to Texas if I could help it, so it’s not like I’d spent any actual time with them lately.

  “I don’t know what to say. I had no idea.”

  Her eyes narrowed slightly before she smoothed her expression. “Yes, well, you’re very busy, Damon. I didn’t expect you to actually come visit and see for yourself that our marriage has been deteriorating for years.”

  Subtlety was not my mother’s forté. I hadn’t visited them out of spite. They chose to ignore Tierney, so I chose to ignore them. Petty? Perhaps. But, as usual, I gave zero fucks, and there was no way she was going to make me feel guilty about it. “Is that why you’re here? You wanted to tell me in person?”

  She set her tea cup back in its matching saucer. “You’re my son. You have a right to know,” she said, simply.

  Something in her demeanor put me on high alert. She sat perfectly still, her hair and make up already done despite the early hour. Her perfectly pressed, cream-colored pant suit was tailored to her precise measurements, and the designer shoes on her feet were void of any scuff marks. I looked around the suite, taking in the high end luggage that sat near the door to the bedroom, before swinging my gaze back to her.

  “This is about money, isn’t it?”

  “Damon!” she scolded me. “It’s uncouth to discuss finances in such a manner.”

  I snorted. “Oh, cut the shit, ma.” I started to pace, unable to tolerate the mountain of bullshit she was shoveling.

  “Don’t speak to me that way, Damon,” she pleaded quietly.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but won’t you get half of everything?”

  She pursed her lips but nodded. “Half of everything your father has earned since we married.”

  What my father has earned was an important distinction since my mother hadn’t worked a day since they got married. She was a housewife and a mother but never a career woman, though she sat on the board at a few different charities last I knew. “So, you’re still rich. What’s the problem?”

  She twisted her fingers together, fidgeting. It was a tell-tale sign that I wasn’t going to like what she was going to say next. “Your father and I had a prenup. Something your grandfather insisted upon.”

  I closed my eyes, sighing. Un-fucking-believable.

  She continued, “Everything that your father inherited from his father is off limits in the divorce, and it is a considerable amount more than what he earned on his own.”

  It would be. My father inherited the bulk of his fortune from his father, who’d made his fortune in the oil boom of the eighties and capitalized on it with some incredibly shrewd investments. The total of which far surpassed anything my father ever generated either in business or investments. Still, what my father had made was significant. My mother could still live comfortably and not work for the rest of her days, though she would likely need to make some adjustments to her spending habits.

  “Again, I’ll say, you’re still rich. It’s not like divorce is going to turn you into a pauper.”

  “I just need to know that if I need you, you’ll be there for me.”

  “What you mean is, if you need money you’re hoping I’ll give it to you.”

  “Don’t take that tone with me, young man. There is nothing wrong with wanting to feel secure. It’s not like anybody enjoys being poor.”

  “You’re far from poor, mother.”

  “You know what I mean!” she snapped.

  The kicker was, I did know what she meant, and she had a point, though it wasn’t really a noble one. It was also moot when you factored in the settlement she was going to receive when the divorce was finalized. I wasn’t going to agree to support her when she could support herself, but I could make her a promise. “Rest assured, ma, I will not let you become destitute. Okay?”

  She visibly relaxed, as if poverty had been a real concern weighing on her mind. Mom had always been a worrier; that was something I’d forgotten, and I’d realized that her concern wasn’t so much about greed as it was about the uncertainty that came with her new situation. She’d been relying on my father for thirty years, and now she found herself on a new path. I could sympathize with her plight even if I didn’t agree with the way she handled it.

  “I’ll talk to Tierney tonight about meeting you if that’s still what you want.” Considering the bomb she’d just dropped on me, I wasn’t sure if she really had an interest in getting to know her granddaughter or if she had been planning to use Tierney as an in with me. My question was answered when her face lit up.

  “Yes, Damon, I would like that very much.”

  Chapter 24

  Damon

  If Monday morning set the tone for the rest of my work week, I would have been royally fucked. Fortunately, the rest of the week was filled with wins. Hatchling Tech’s biomedical department received the research grant they’d been waiting on with bated breath, ensuring that their gene therapy project targeting pediatric cancer could move forward sooner rather than later. Harlan Preston was still a loss, thanks to my father’s interference, but I’d managed to secure a new investor for the alternative energy division, one who despised my father for some reason and was probably only interested in investing if for no other reason than to stick it to my old man. I found that I didn’t much care what his motivations were so long as he could funnel his cash into my projects.

  More importantly, I’d spent every single night in the past week with Sophie, either at her place or mine. We spent our evenings with Tierney and sometimes Chloe. The three or four of us would eat dinner together and watch a movie or play board games, which is not something I would have ever thought to do, but Sophie insisted on it, and if I was honest, I had fun. Even if Sophie tried to cheat at Risk.

  Sophie and I spent the nights and early mornings burning up the sheets. I’d already decided that the best way to end and start each day was buried balls deep in the woman I’d gone and fallen in love with, so as far as I was concerned it was goddamn domestic bliss.

  I’d spoken with Tierney about meeting both her mother and mine. Sophie and I agreed that one at a time was best, since we didn’t want to overwhelm her. It meant a lot that Sophie not only had my back, and it said something about our relationship that we discussed it like true partners instead of parent versus teacher or parent versus girlfriend. Always having Tierney’s best interest at heart, Sophie didn’t balk when I broached the subject with her, instead, she weighed all the options before voicing her opinion. It may have been the fact that Tierney was her student, so she had a vested interest in her well being, but I chose to believe it was because she was becoming more comfortable with the idea of us as a family unit, and this was just one more wall coming down.

  Which was probably how I convinced her to join Tierney and me in meeting up with Georgia at the same frozen yogurt place where the three of us had gone after Sophie’s date abandoned her at the movies. Intimidation tactic on my part? Maybe. If Georgia was serious about reconnecting with Tierney, she wouldn’t be threatened by Sophie’s presence. At least, that was the way I saw it. A mother should move heaven and Earth for their child, so soon, we would see what kind of mettle Georgia was made from.

  I ushere
d my girls into the yogurt shop and sat them at a table in the front, so Georgia would see us when she arrived.

  “This is kind of exposed, Damon, do you think this is the best location?”

  “Exposed?”

  Sophie shrugged. “Anyone wandering by could see us.” Her eyes darted to Tierney, and I immediately understood her concern.

  “Don’t worry, doll. It’s only my official appearances that garner attention. I don’t think I’ve ever been recognized out in public.” It was true. Everybody wanted my picture when I was in a suit at a charity function or gala with a beautiful woman on my arm, but nobody ever recognized me in jeans and a sweatshirt with my daughter in tow. Probably because I wasn’t flashing my wealth around. It was a little bit like leading a double life, but it’s what worked for me. The longer I could milk my relative anonymity, the better.

  Surprisingly, Georgia arrived right on time. I had expected her to be late at the least, and a small part of me believed she’d blow off our meeting altogether. Color me shocked.

  What didn’t shock me was the way she swept into the yogurt shop with an air of self-importance. She was dressed like she thought this place was serving caviar and Cristal instead of frozen yogurt and gummy bears. Cream-colored, knee-length skirt, pale pink silk blouse, and what I estimated to be three thousand dollar shoes. She had diamonds at her ears and throat, and her light brown hair was pulled back in a complicated updo. Her make up was full, but understated. She was every inch the well-bred southern belle.

  I glanced over at Sophie, much preferring her casual look of skinny jeans and a sweater with her hair tumbling over her shoulders, and the only makeup on her face was the mascara I’d watched her apply that morning. She had bright pink Keds on her feet and an arm around Tierney. Yes, I much preferred that look.

  Georgia breezed past me and straight for Tierney. “Hello, sweetheart,” she cooed.

  Tierney blinked. “Hi.”

  “Do you know who I am?”

  I rolled my eyes at Georgia’s condescending tone. No one should be spoken to that way, least of all your own child and particularly if that child likely had a higher IQ than you.

  “Yes,” was Tierney’s simple answer.

  Georgia’s plastic smile faltered slightly. “Well,” she paused, glancing around the yogurt shop. “Shall we get some yogurt?”

  Tierney glanced at me for approval, and then she did something that made something in my chest squeeze and flood with warmth- she looked at Sophie for the okay to go ahead. Sophie gave her an encouraging smile, which my daughter returned before getting up and heading toward the self-serve yogurt dispensers in the back. Georgia followed, but not before giving Sophie a cool look.

  Sophie, biting her lip, turned her wide eyes to me. “Wow,” she breathed, not unkindly, but I got the impression she wasn’t all that impressed with Georgia’s behavior, either.

  I sank into the seat next to her. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  “You are? I haven’t done anything.”

  I gave her a half-smile. “Just your presence is enough. Georgia can be a lot to handle, and if I need to put her in her place….” I let my sentence trail off, but Sophie caught my meaning.

  “I can get Tierney out of here at the first sign of trouble.”

  “Thank you, doll.” I punctuated my gratitude with a quick kiss.

  Tierney and Georgia returned with their yogurt, and Georgia slid into the seat next to me. “Do you really think it’s appropriate for you to be kissing the help?” she hissed in my ear.

  “Excuse me?” I kept my voice low, even though I wanted to rail at her.

  “You heard me. Really, Damon, it’s so low-class,” she muttered.

  Sophie’s hand wrapped around my forearm, stopping me from rising from my seat and reading Georgia the riot act on classy behavior. “Sophie isn’t in my employ. She’s my girlfriend.” It was the first time I’d said that aloud since Sophie and I were always at odds about what label we should be using.

  Georgia’s head jerked back in surprise, but Tierney had a wide smile on her face. I didn’t chance looking at Sophie, though I’m sure we’d have words about it later.

  “Oh, I...I thought you were the nanny, naturally,” Georgia stuttered before recovering.

  “Naturally,” Sophie said, drily.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Except you’ve already met Chloe, when you showed up at my house unannounced, so you know that Sophie isn’t the nanny.”

  “Well,” Georgia huffed, “it’s perfectly reasonable for me to assume that you’d have more than one. How was I to know?”

  “More than one? How would you know-”

  “Damon,” Sophie warned and waited until she had my attention. “Not now.”

  I shot an apologetic look at my daughter. “Sorry, baby girl.”

  She shrugged.

  Georgia seemed to gather herself and turned to Tierney. “How do you like school, sweetheart?”

  “I love school.”

  “Ah, well, you must get that from your father. He was always so bright.”

  We sat there listening to Georgia struggle to make small talk with the daughter she had absolutely nothing in common with, and more than once I had to reach for Sophie’s hand to remind myself that putting my head through the plate glass window would be a bad idea. After a half an hour, Georgia declared that she was out of time and had somewhere to be. I watched her stand and empty her garbage into the trash. She gave Tierney an incredibly awkward hug as she said goodbye. I narrowed my eyes in suspicion when she reached for the door handle with a shaky hand.

  “I’d like to see her again. I’ll text you.” That was the last thing Georgia said to me before exiting the yogurt shop and allowing me to finally take a deep breath.

  The moment she was gone, Tierney got up from her seat and slid in closer to Sophie.

  “How are you feeling about all that, nugget?” Sophie asked.

  Tierney seemed to think it over for a moment before answering. “Her favorite yogurt is strawberry,” she finally said, her face twisted in a grimace.

  “Eww,” Sophie whispered, eliciting a giggle from my little girl.

  I couldn’t help myself, I chuckled along with the two of them.

  Chapter 25

  Sophie

  As a teacher, I’d always felt protective of my students. Whether it was from bullies like Kyle Morris or other teachers who disciplined unfairly, I’d always had the kids’ best interests at heart. But, I’d never once, in all my years of teaching, had a student’s parent bring out the mama bear in me. Georgia Buchanan was shallow and selfish, and it pained me to sit there and watch Tierney try so hard to like the woman. Maybe it wasn’t fair of me to judge so harshly, but I’d come to love Tierney. In all the time I’d spent with her and Damon outside of school, she became the daughter I wanted. Considering how hard I’d been trying to push Damon away, this revelation should’ve sent me running for the hills, but it was time to admit it. Damon and Tierney were mine. Both of them. A package deal. I knew it the moment Tierney sought my approval in front of Georgia, and there was no doubt, it shook me to my core. But it also felt right.

  I wasn’t quite ready to tell Damon any of this because I knew his subsequent gloating would be maddening, and his ego was already massive. Besides, we were going to have to keep it on the down low for a while. Tierney was still my student, and I didn’t want to be accused of favoritism or conflict of interest. Not that she needed favoritism to get ahead. She was already light years ahead of most kids her age, and that was something I needed to talk to Damon about later.

  As Damon, Tierney, and I left the frozen yogurt shop and climbed into Damon’s Escalade, I checked in with him. “How are you feeling about all this?”

  His humorless laugh made my heart ache. “It’s nothing less than I expected. We’ll talk more about it later, though, okay?”

  I glanced over my shoulder to see Tierney absorbed in a game on her tablet but agreed. “Okay.” We rode in silence f
or a few minutes. “So, what are we doing with the rest of our day?”

  Damon’s side eye came with a healthy dose of smirk, likely at my use of the words ‘we’ and ‘our.’ “What do you want to do today, baby girl?”

  Tierney looked up from her tablet to meet her father’s eyes in the rear view mirror. “I don’t know.”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek, contemplating the ramifications of what I was about to say. “You want to come over my house? The three of us can hang out today and have a sleepover tonight.”

  Tierney’s face lit up at the same time that Damon’s hand shot out to snatch mine, giving it a squeeze. I could tell by his expression that he wanted to say something. Something that would sound a whole lot like gloating.

  “Don’t. You’re obnoxious when you crow.”

  He burst out laughing.

  ***

  “I know you really want to, but I am begging you, Damon, please don’t do this.” It wasn’t the first time since we’d left the yogurt shop that I’d had to halt the words that wanted to spew from his mouth. I knew it also wouldn’t be the last. Maybe I should just let him say it and get it out of his system. Maybe I’d rather run into a bear’s den covered in honey.

  I stood at the kitchen sink washing the last few dishes from our kitchen adventure. Damon and I had cooked dinner together- honey garlic pork chops with a side of boiled red potatoes in a cheese sauce, something Damon called papas chorreadas. Apparently, it was a dish his childhood housekeeper, Inès, had taught him how to make. The same Inès who taught him how to salsa dance. The dish was as delicious as his dance moves, so I sent a silent thank you into the universe in the hopes that Inès would hear it.

  After dinner, Tierney and I decided to bake cupcakes resulting in my kitchen looking a bit like a food fight had broken out. Flour and sugar were sprinkled across the countertops and pink and green frosting marred the table’s surface. I smiled the entire time we cleaned it up together.