Bad boy gone good, p.14
Bad Boy Gone Good, page 14
“You brought a man bag?” Jackson frowned at August’s tote.
Don’t blush. It’s not a man bag. It’s a leather satchel. “What else am I supposed to carry documents in?” he askied in lieu of prompt denial.
“Easy, darlin’. I’m just teasin’.” Jackson smiled.
“Actually, I want to get into this before I lose your attention entirely.” August pulled the bag onto the table and started fiddling with the zipper.
“Not like a bit of food is going to keep my head out of whatever has you carrying purses.” Jackson laughed.
August smiled back. This wasn’t hard. It was good news, a fait accompli. He had the commissioner on board. Had funding lined up. The sale of the land was signed, and the severance was approved. It was all coming together.
In one exhale, he let it out. “Thing is, I’m selling. Not the whole ranch, just some of it. Er, because I want to fund a project. It’s a big deal. Solar energy. I mean, I’m going to launch a solar energy project. Twenty thousand acres and everything I’ve made down South keeps me in control—”
“You’re selling twenty thousand acres? To start a solar farm? Why have you been riding around with me, then? Learning about about the land?”
August felt his stomach flip.
“Learning about the last, I mean, that’s not why I was hanging with you. I like hanging with you Jacks, you’re my friend.”
Jackson’s mouth tightened. “Not a good enough friend to talk to about this play. This is fucking huge.”
His stomach flipped again.
“I know. It’s big. But I’m all in for Montana. Everything I have. I laid it all on the line for this deal.”
“Selling half your family’s land?” Jackson shook his head.
“Yeah, I get that this is gutsy, but I locked up ninety million from the State. I’ve thought it all through. This is my chance to make a difference.” A chance to mean something. To be someone. He didn’t have to say it. Didn’t have to spell it out. Jackson was smart.
“Twenty thousand acres?”
“Relax. I sold them to Cody. And he’s besotted with Hannah’s best friend, if you haven’t noticed, so it’s not like he’s going anywhere...”
Jackson was interrupted from making further complaints by the arrival of two racks of ribs.
“Can we get two beers, too?” Jackson asked of the server.
He couldn’t be that mad. Not if he was ordering them both a beer.
Jackson scratched his chin. “Look. I wish you’d told me what you were up to sooner.”
“Not sure why it matters.”
Jackson picked up a rib, but instead of eating it, he waved it in August’s direction. “It matters because friends tell each other stuff. And we are friends. Damn good friends.”
August nodded. Jackson was right. “I’ve been on my own for so long, it’s hard to trust people.”
“I know. But I trust you, August. This is a hell of a project. I’m just sorry you didn’t come to the Hartmanns before what I assume is venture capital.”
August smiled. It was as close to an approval as he’d come. But Jackson didn’t lower his rib. Instead, he continued. “Speaking of favors, I have some rearranging to do. For the wedding. Thing is, I need a stand-in for my best man, just for the ceremony. You totally have the bachelor party. And—” with his available hand, Jackson made the sign of the cross “—you’ll always be the best man of my heart.”
August nodded. Not a big deal. He’d been surprised that Jackson hadn’t asked Nick from the onset. Optics were everything at society weddings, and Josephine was the mother of the groom.
But it was hard not feeling this was a precursor for the rest of his life. You can be my best man, but only at the bachelor party where no one can see. He could sleep with Evie, make love to her under the stars, in hotel rooms, at his house, but only if no one knew.
That was it. Why they could never be anything more.
“I get it, buddy, don’t worry. If you are cool with the whole solar project surprise, I’m cool with a switcheroo for the wedding day.” He exhaled.
“Thanks. Nick is gonna be delighted. He had this crazy idea that I should ask Ben. And the last thing I want to do is cause drama. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your chillness about this. I told him your trip to LA didn’t mean anything.”
Jackson tucked into his ribs. But August just stared, feeling sick.
“Ben?” he parroted. If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound? Was his love for Evie as clichéd as that?
Jackson didn’t look up from his plate. “Yeah, you know he and Evie have been dating. Nick thought it would be a nice show of support from our family to have them walk down the aisle together. I mean, if there’s a gesture I can make to have Evie feel more comfortable at the wedding, I’m gonna do it, right?”
“Sure.” The word was stuck in his throat. The picture of Evie and Ben starting the wedding processional walking side by side. He was jealous. They were meant to be over. She’d told him as much. But why did this request, and from his dear friend at that, feel like the nail to a coffin for a relationship he wasn’t ready to admit was ill-fated?
“Honestly, to hear Nick say it, Ben is ready to walk down the aisle for real. This oughta be a nice warm up.”
August just nodded, wondering how liquid a 30,000-acre solar farm could be. He should have known this purgatory was too good to last. All of a sudden, her text made sense. We need to talk. He knew exactly what that meant. Her family had gotten to her. They were done. Well, two could play that game. He pulled out his phone and texted:
Evie, I think I know what you want to talk about. It’s cool. We were never long-term, just do what you’re gonna do.
With the swoosh of the send button, his stomach sank. But at least he was back in control of what mattered. His future. He’d been her first. Maybe that was enough. For her.
Twelve
Dress Rehearsal
“You got the part.” Amber had texted her the news.
Probably because she’d ignored her last four phone calls. She didn’t need another rejection right now.
August had been, well, predictable. And in the worst way. He hadn’t written her since she’d landed from her callback audition, forty-eight infernal hours ago.
She’d sent him four text messages.
What do you mean “it’s cool”?
No answer. So, she’d tried again.
I really think we need to talk, August. Come on.
Punctuated with a tasteful monkey covering its eyes. Her emoticon game was strong.
When he hadn’t answered with a purple devil or anything, she’d launched another missile.
I really think we need to talk, August. Come on.
Still dead air.
I bet you’re busy. I’ll let you work.
Emoticon choice: crossed fingers. That was just cryptic enough. As in, she hoped he got her message. Hoped he was too busy to let her know what was up. Hoped he’d get back to her.
With Herculean strength, she managed to stop herself from a pathetic fifth text. He’d given her the best nights of her life. Let her believe for a moment that he saw her, and loved her. And that moment was worth it. Was worth the soul-crushing silence and moment of self-doubt that accompanied his ghosting. It was worth it, she reminded herself. Still, it was hard not to feel like she was twenty. Naked and entirely rejected. She was naive and wrong. He hadn’t wanted her, he’d used her. August Quaid wasn’t one speck different from the man that everyone thought him to be. Or was he? Somehow the indecision felt worse than a diagnosis. If her thing with August—whatever it was —had been DOA, surely that would have been easier to live with than this ghosting...
And now? She was pregnant. Pregnant and yet somehow less adult than ever before.
When her phone had beeped with a text notification, her heart had literally skipped. Then, when she’d seen that it was Amber, telling her she’d gotten the part, it fell.
Which made no sense. She should be elated. Sure she’d had her share of B list movies, but this one? It was slated for global distribution. With an actual movie star starring opposite her. This was a big chance to get what she’d always wanted, a foot in the door with the big studios. Except that it wasn’t what she’d always wanted.
The whole time she’d been in LA for the callback, she’d wanted to be here. Montana. Near August.
* * *
“Tell me everything.” It was Mia, entering her room without knocking. She was carrying two of Pierre’s to-go lattes. At least she came bearing coffee.
Evie stuck her hand out for the coffee. Then she watched as Mia installed herself on the chair opposite her bed.
Evie opened her mouth to speak. She could talk about the movie part. Mia would then likely suggest making their coffees Irish, which, honestly, Evie could use right now. She felt dead inside. Totally numb. Because her messages to August were marked “read” and she’d had no reply.
But nothing came out. Instead, she started to cry.
“I’m sorry, Evie. I really thought you’d get this one. I mean I don’t see why your no-good agent would have gotten you all riled up if you didn’t have a decent chance.”
This made Evie cry a little harder. Not sobs, but raw tears, now flowing freely. Because her twin sister thought she should be sad about not getting a part. Entirely trivial with respect to what she was feeling.
“Seriously. If you want to be an actress, just leave. August will support you. Or Ben—it doesn’t matter.”
“You think I’m crying about Ben? What about our twin connection? Come on, Mia. Can’t you just be on my side for once?” Evie managed to hold back the rest of her emotion, forcing a long gulp of too-hot coffee down her throat.
“I am on your side.” Mia was on the bed immediately. “But Evie, you have a way of coloring your experience.I mean, you’re such a romantic that you’re literally the only twenty-eight-year-old virgin that even exists.”
“I am not.” Evie sniffed.
Mia hugged her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m sure there are loads of other virgins. And I honestly respect you for hanging in there until you’re married.”
Evie snapped her head up. “Is that why you think I was waiting? Because of the sanctity of marriage?”
Mia balked. “Er, isn’t it?”
Evie let it all out. “No, Mia. I was waiting to be in love.”
“Was waiting?” her sister asked softly.
“Was waiting,” she confirmed. It felt good. Telling someone. As if the admission made it more real. No take backs.
“I didn’t know it was so serious between you and Ben,” Mia mused, smirking.
Evie threw a pillow at her.
“Very Cinderella story for you,” Mia added. “I had always wondered about the tattoos...are they... everywhere?”
Evie blushed.
“Seriously? You’re gonna be one of those girls? The kind who doesn’t tell her best friend the details of her first time?”
Evie stared at her hands. Pressed her eyes shut. Then she opened them and reached for her phone. Still no reply.
“Is it okay if I am? One of those girls?”
Truth was, it didn’t matter what Mia said. There was no amount of cajoling that could get Evie to dish on her time with August. It was enough just to share that it had happened. The memory was for her. Especially as she grappled with the reality that that might be all she got. And she had to somehow make it enough.
“I did get the part.” She wasn’t crying anymore. If she’d had any growing up to do, it was done.
Mia’s smile widened, and her hand flew to her face, pushing her bangs away as though they were somehow keeping her from seeing reason. Then she offered Evie a hearty clap on the back. “That’s freaking amazing. Honestly. Never had a doubt.” She winked.
“I haven’t told anyone yet, I just found out. Shooting starts fast. Just three weeks.”
“Basically right after the wedding?”
“Yeah. If I take the part.”
Mia smiled, then put her arm around her sister. “You know, I’m really proud of you, Evie. You always were the brave one.”
“Brave?” Evie sniffled. “Don’t you mean the scaredy-cat?”
“I think waiting for what you want, then taking it, no hesitation, is about the bravest thing you can do.”
Evie just nodded. She had no regrets. The decision to be with August was one she’d make again, even if she’d known then how it would end. It was the easiest choice she’d ever made, but it didn’t make her brave. Just stupid. And in love. And now? Alone.
* * *
He was late. Late because he had spent the better part of an hour staring at his phone. She hadn’t written him in three days. Okay, to be fair, she’d written him three days ago, when she’d landed after her second audition, but nothing since. Yes, her text messages were begging for an answer, but somehow, waiting with his head in a guillotine was less enticing than one would think. He’d prefer if this, whatever it was, just fizzled out, without the heart-wrenching “conversation.”
Technically, the ball was in his court. He wanted to write her back. Wanted to take another step, but he was paralyzed by the thought of what she’d say. Maybe to her, it had been a roll in the hay—okay, many rolls in the hay—a way to shake her virginity with someone who didn’t matter, so that she could be ready for someone who did. He didn’t want to be the chain that pulled her down. Evie could go anywhere. Be anything. Be with anyone. This space, the silence he offered up, was his kindness, even if it was a lot harder to maintain than he’d dreamed.
Montana royalty. The future she deserved. Jackson had been pretty clear. Sure. He hadn’t exactly been open with Jacks about the torch he had been carrying for his little sister. But he knew what Jacks would say. No matter how much August had pulled himself up. No matter how much he’d earned, it would never be as much as Ben. Never come close to the Kingsley holdings.
Maybe it was better to let her have the happiness everyone knew she deserved.
So he didn’t write. Didn’t do much, apart from mope. Sven, his trusty ranch hand, had found him drunk two mornings in a row, sleeping in the Hartmann barn with his hand resting on the decade-old graffiti. AQ + EH.
Wasn’t love putting the other person first? Wasn’t him saying nothing and letting her have the future she deserved the biggest expression of love he could make?
He texted Cody. It was time to schedule some poker. A card game was a surefire way to clear his head. To think only of numbers and people to play. After all, everyone had a role in this Montana legacy, and his? The bad boy.
Thirteen
Anywhere But Here
“Is this how you thank me for getting you the keys to a penthouse suite?” Mia launched into a tirade before August had a chance to register who he was speaking to. “Blowing off my sister?”
“I thought the case of whiskey I sent Antone was thanks for your previous help?” he murmured, still a little drunk and very hungover.
“I know what you guys did in that penthouse. One case of whiskey won’t be enough of a thank-you for that wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.” Mia said.
How she could laugh at the situation was beyond him.
“Why are you calling anyway? If you need another case of booze, ask your fiancé. We’re not friends, Mia. Don’t call me.” It was an aggressive reaction, sure, but the last person he wanted to see right now was a Hartmann. Unless...
““Relax. I’m calling to help. I know what you want, and I can help you get it.”
The admission sobered him, and August ran a hand through his hair. Was it possible? Could one of the nuclear Hartmann family members actually be pulling for a Quaid?
“Seriously. I know how my sister feels about you. And about the hopeless match my mother is insisting on.”
Despite himself, he smiled, nodding at the phone like an idiot who confused voice calls for Zooms...
“Let’s start by making this wedding an opportunity for you to mark your territory, mm’kay?” Mia suggested. “I’m gonna text you a number, for a dance teacher. Call her, and practice enough not to embarrass us on the dance floor, okay? I’ll text you later with part two of this plan.”
Mia hung up without waiting for an answer, and for the first time since his solar grant went through, August began to wonder if his tides were truly turning.
* * *
“Don’t act like I’m the first person to ignore a yellow engine light,” she muttered into the phone. Mia had been laughing for three minutes straight. Traitor.
“Seriously. Can you come?” Evie flirted with the idea of lifting the hood, but as she stood in front of the hood of her car, she couldn’t even remember where the weird lever thing was to open the hood. It wasn’t as if she’d even know what to look for even if she did manage to open the damn thing.
Her twin stopped laughing long enough to remind her that today she was working in Billings. It was a hard no to a rescue mission.
“Want me to call Antone?” Mia offered.
“Nope, I’d prefer to keep this embarrassment as private as possible,” Evie said.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t know where she was. She took this road home precisely because, in her youth, she’d often crossed paths with him. The Quaid Ranch was about twenty minutes away from here if landmarks served her right and she cut across the field.
“Or Ben?” Mia teased.
“No. Don’t call anyone. Heck, I wish I hadn’t even called you.” She hung up on her howling twin and reached for her purse.
