Authors: Ava Miles
Tags: #bake, #cowboy, #food, #Romantic Comedy, #country music, #Nashville, #millionaire, #chick lit, #cook, #Southern romance, #Contemporary Romance
Daddy walked forward. “It pains me to say this, Margaret, but I think it would be better if you went upstairs to get ready for bed, too.”
Her hand flew to her throat. “Hampton!”
Go Daddy.
“Sterling, let’s go to my study,” he said, gesturing to the entryway. “Rye, please bring your sister.”
He took Tammy’s elbow in his hand, taking care to be gentle so she wouldn’t flinch again, not sparing a look at Mama as they walked past her. Rye hadn’t been in his Daddy’s study since he’d been disowned, and his stomach went from queasy to greasy as the memories came rushing back.
Daddy conducted business from home at times. His office could impress and intimidate, depending on the reason the person found himself or herself sitting across from him at his massive, freshly polished mahogany desk. When Daddy settled back into his high–back leather chair, he reached for his antique letter opener, said to have been used by Andrew Jackson during the War of Northern Aggression.
There were two chairs in front of the desk, and Rye gently nudged Tammy into one, gesturing for Sterling to take the other. Now that he’d had some time to process the unexpected turn of events, his brother–in–law didn’t even look upset.
“Well, it appears we have some things to discuss,” Daddy began.
Privilege had run through so many generations of Sterling’s family that he acted like it was part of his DNA. He settled back with his typical arrogance, casually crossing his ankle over his knee like they were going to talk about golf or something. God, he’d always hated this son of a bitch growing up.
“Sir,” Sterling began. “I’m not sure what mendacious thoughts Rye has been putting in your head, but none of them are true. He’s had a dislike of me since childhood. While he abandoned his family, I’ve been here, taking care of mine.”
Rye’s gut burned. It would have been a good tactic if he and Daddy hadn’t reconciled. Clearly, Sterling hadn’t believed it possible.
“Sterling, I’m sure it will surprise you to learn this, but I’ve heard stories about you running around on my daughter for years—since your first year of marriage, in fact.”
Tammy gave a small yelp, like a dog being stepped on.
“Women hear their gossip at the beauty shop. Men hear it on the golf course.” He made direct eye contact with Sterling like he was a hostile witness in court. “I chose to let it be your business. That was my mistake. I’ve made lots of them. But recent events have made me realize that it’s not too late to make amends—or change the status quo. Margaret and I raised our children to respect marriage, but unfortunately, we also instilled a horror of divorce. I don’t want Tammy to feel she needs to put up with an untenable situation, whatever the reason. And repeated and flagrant adultery falls into that category.”
Sterling clenched a fist in Rye’s direction. “You son of a bitch. This is your fault.”
Daddy tapped the letter opener on his desk like a judge’s gavel. “Enough, Sterling. Rye may have been the one pay you a visit, but I can assure you he and I are of one mind. We do not want Tammy to feel alone any longer.”
“By assaulting her husband over something little like this?” he said, running a hand through his blond hair. “She doesn’t care. Look at her. She’s not saying anything. She never does. The only thing at issue here is appearances and her pride.”
Daddy put the letter opener down. “You’re mistaken.” He finally looked at Tammy. “It’s not a little matter, is it?”
***
Oh heavens, why did Daddy have to ask her that? This was their show, wasn’t it?
Then she saw Sterling’s smirk, the way his mouth tipped up to the side. It always did that when he expected her to cave and do nothing. She tugged on her skirt and noticed a spot of dirt she’d missed earlier. The dirt made her remember Rory—why he’d run away. She fingered her sleeve, remembering the bruise on her shoulder. Would he ever hit the kids? Had he when she wasn’t looking?
It was time to take a stand for Rory and Annabelle. And for herself, she realized.
When Rye placed a hand on her shoulder again, she didn’t flinch. His touch wasn’t intended to harm her, and it made her feel less alone. Sterling couldn’t hurt her here.
“No, it’s not a little thing.” The muscles in her face trembled. “The children deserve better. I’m tired of seeing Rory and Annabelle’s disappointed faces when they go to bed before you get home because you’re out with some woman. And I deserve a better husband.” There, she’d said it, even though her throat had squeezed to the size of a thimble.
“You deserve better?” Sterling drawled, uncharacteristically tugging at his tie. “I give you and the kids everything. Don’t you have the best house, car, and clothes? Do you think it’s easy to come home to a frigid bitch every night?”
How could he say that out loud? Shame shot through her, heating her face.
“Shut up!” Rye shouted. “You don’t talk to her that way.”
When her eyes met her Daddy’s, she only saw compassion there, and it gave her the courage to say the things she’d locked inside her heart long ago. “Why do you think I act that way? I know where you’ve been. It doesn’t inspire
wifely
affection, Sterling. But the children shouldn’t suffer for it.”
His shrug enraged her. “I don’t do anything to the kids.”
“That’s the problem. You don’t love them, Sterling.” Her voice shook as she finally admitted her worst fear. “You don’t even like them. Rory’s old enough to realize it, and Annabelle will soon too.” She twisted her wedding ring, hating the weight, the symbol. “I won’t tolerate it anymore, Sterling.”
Sterling’s mouth twisted as he shoved out of the chair. “You won’t
tolerate
it? Don’t talk to me like that, Tammy.”
His anger scared her, but Rye and Daddy were here. “I mean it, Sterling.”
”And what exactly are you going to do about it?” he asked, flexing his hand.
Her mind flashed back to other times. His hands—always his hands—on her arms, her wrists, her waist, digging into her flesh hard enough to bruise.
“We can do this easy or we can do this hard, Sterling,” Rye finally said. “You’ve had a taste of easy. I’ll be more than happy to show you hard.”
“You’re going to pay for what you did to me, Rye. Do you think beating me up is going to make me love my wife? You must have turned as stupid as the hick you pretend to be.” He pointed at him, sneering. “You think you’re some hot–shot, but I’ll make you pay. I’ll charge you with assault. I have witnesses.”
Witnesses? Who?
And what would they say about her?
Rye only laughed. “If you’d like to admit that you’re a big enough pussy to have crumpled after one punch, that’s your business. Press charges. See if I care.”
No, they couldn’t bring the law into this, and the media would get a hold of this, which he didn’t need right now. Rye had been only trying to protect her.
She rose swiftly and grabbed his arm. “Rye, I don’t want you to get into trouble.”
His gaze softened, and he rested his hand over hers. “It’s okay, Tammy.”
Sterling clucked his tongue and stood up. “Well, isn’t that precious? Who knew country–club Tammy still cared for the black sheep in the family?” He lifted a hand and stroked a lock of her blond hair before she could knock his hand away. “Seems there’s an easier way of handling this all ‘round.”
Daddy raised a brow. “And that would be?”
Sterling rocked back on his heels. “Well, since you’ve taken a dislike to me runnin’ around on your daughter, Hampton, and I don’t want to change my ways, I’m thinkin’ you should pay me to divorce her.”
Tammy inhaled like she’d taken a punch to the stomach. A divorce? She looked at him to see if he were serious. He’d always said he’d never let her go.
Sterling flicked a piece of lint off his suit. “After all, you’ve just said I’m not much of a husband and father. So why should we stay married? I can find a replacement soon enough. You’re a good mama, Tammy, but you’re not much of a wife.”
“I’m going to beat you into a bloody pulp if you say anything about her again,” Rye hissed.
Oh the shame. It made her want to disappear from view.
Daddy slammed his hand on the table. “That’s enough maligning. State your terms, Sterling.”
He tilted his head to the side. “A million dollars, or I’ll make things worse for everyone.”
He wasn’t serious, she realized. When Sterling didn’t want to do something, he made the terms so high that they couldn’t be met. His lawyer training.
“Done,” Rye responded, shocking her.
She slid into the chair when her legs wouldn’t support her.
“You’ll get half the money now and the other half when the divorce papers are signed. And you’ll sign over full custody,” Rye added.
She watched for Sterling’s reaction. His eyes widened, and then he blinked. So she was right—he hadn’t expected anyone to agree to his terms. Then his mouth quirked up at the corner, and she knew it wouldn’t be enough. That she and the kids would never be free—exactly like he’d always threatened.
“I want another million for giving up custody,” he said.
Tammy lowered her head, already thinking of his retribution.
“Don’t push your luck,” Rye said, acid in his voice. “I’m already being generous.” His fist slapped his other palm. “Best not to provoke me right now. As you’ve heard, I can’t always control myself.”
When she looked over, Sterling was swallowing like he’d choked on a June bug at a picnic. “Fine. So long as we’re done.”
Daddy pulled open his desk drawer and drew out legal stationery, like it was the most natural thing in the world for them to sit down together and outline the terms of her divorce. He picked up his personalized fountain pen and started to write in the special ink Tammy had found him in Charleston.
“Since we have an agreement,” he said, “I’m going to draw this up right now. That way there will be no need for us to meet again. I will file formally for Tammy tomorrow. Since we’re so generous, we’ll state ‘irreconcilable differences’ and not adultery. We’ll deal with the other details in the coming weeks, but I warn you not to fight me on this, son. I’d like nothing better than to destroy you.”
Tammy watched his bold handwriting cover the paper. People would know the reason anyway. Meade was a small town. She was surprised by how little she cared.
When Daddy turned the papers toward Sterling, he approached the desk. “I’ll sign this, but I want half the money now.”
Rye pulled out his cell phone. “You know your bank account number?”
Sterling nodded.
Rye talked to Georgia, whom she’d met briefly when she’d flown to his concert stop. After a brief chat, he repeated the bank account number Sterling clicked off. It was one she didn’t know about, which made her wonder what other secrets he’d kept from her.
She pressed her fingers to her throbbing temples. It was hard to take everything in. “How could you do this?” she asked Sterling.
“Let’s not lie to each other,” he said. “I never loved you, and you never loved me. This was an arrangement between your mama and mine, wanting the Hollins and Morrisons to come together. Now that any advantages I received from being in this family are gone, I’m going to cut my losses.”
“And the children?” she whispered.
“You’re right. They’re nice enough, but I’ve never liked kids. Only had them because it was expected.”
Since she had no rebuttal, she said nothing in response.
Sterling drew out his phone, ostensibly checking his bank account. “Okay, I have an email saying the money’s in the process of being transferred into my account. I’ll just see myself out.”
Rye stepped forward, touching his boot tips to Sterling’s loafers. God, she’d always hated those shoes.
“You’re a fucking prick,” Rye growled.
“And you’re a bastard. Nice doing business with you.” Sterling sauntered out the room after tapping his finger to his temple in a mocking wave.
In the silence, the cold hard reality crested over her. “What have we done?” she cried. How could her reality have altered so significantly so fast?
Rye knelt by her chair. “We just got rid of a no–account asshole who treated you like trash and didn’t even ask to say goodbye to his kids.”
He was right. “Oh God.” She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her queasy stomach. “What am I going to do? What am I going to tell everyone? I won’t be able to keep my head up in this town.”
Rye awkwardly patted her back as Daddy circled his desk to face her.
“Then you need to leave this town,” Rye said.
Leave? It was the only place she knew. “But I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
Rye took a deep breath, like he was preparing to dive underwater. “Yes, you do. You can come to Nashville with Amelia Ann. You and the kids can live with me.”
With him?
Daddy’s mouth gaped open for a moment, and it was clear he was as shocked as she was. Then he smiled. “That’s an excellent idea, Rye.”
Her hands clenched. “Are you serious?”
His eyes had a glassy look, but he said, “Sure. I have lots of room.”
Suddenly the future seemed too opaque, with her present so new and raw. Pain spread across her body, making her feel like Sterling had bruised her all over. Tammy bent forward, rocking herself. “I tried so hard to be a good wife. Oh, God.”
Rye pulled her from the chair and pressed her head into his shoulder. “I know you did.”
His words and his touch brought tears to her eyes. She wasn’t used to being comforted by men. Actually by anyone. “The kids. What am I going to tell them?”
“We’ll tell them as much of the truth as appropriate,” Daddy said, running a hand down her hair like she was a child. “And then we’ll tell them they’re going to live with their Uncle Rye.”
Rye’s face looked pale when she pressed back to look at him, and it wasn’t hard to imagine this was as shocking to him as it was to her. He’d gone from being the black sheep of the family to being their champion in a matter of days.
Still, he said, “It’ll be all right, you’ll see.”
She couldn’t imagine this ever being all right. The whole world she knew was gone. Forever. “But the money…Rye, I can never pay you back.”