Southern Charmed Billionaire (23 page)

"Clarissa, move please. You're the last person on earth—the entire
galaxy
—that I
want to see now or never."
 

"Pretty strong words to say, don't you think? Especially for someone your heart knows so well." She batted her blue eyes like the well-practiced aristocrat she was and who had practiced in charm school.
 

I rolled my eyes and sighed. Every second wasted with her was a moment lost that I desperately needed to keep Kate here, to show her I cared.
 

She lifted up her chin, her perfectly painted face covered with her cosmetic armor. To the outside she looked like a polished ten. But all I saw when I looked at her was rot inside. She was a shiny apple, rotten to the core, and she didn't hold a candle to Kate.
 

"I know what you're doing, Clarissa. You smell blood. You're like a bull shark you know that?"
 

"What on earth are you talking about, now Atticus?" She rested her hand on my shoulder and laughed like I had cracked the most charming joke. Her eyes sparkled like she had saved up every ounce of her shine all year for this very moment.
 

I held my breath wanting to rip her apart with my words. That's when I saw the figure outside the window.
 

Kate.
 

Her pink mouth hung open, as she clutched her arms in the cold. I couldn't see the tears but from her head shaking so precisely, I knew it was the last straw.
 

She turned her face ahead and kept walking.
 

"What?" Clarissa asked as if I were staring at an annoying fly. She leisurely turned her head as if she had all the time in the world to be a spectator.
 

Lacey's golden locks bounced in the snow as she covered Kate's arms with a jacket. She covered her with a protective arm, which just made things so much worse.
 

I took a step forward, readying myself to go after her.
 

"Leave it alone, Atticus."
 

"Clarissa,” I warned. “Please step aside."
 

"Now don't make a scene, Atticus. My parents can see everything behind us in the sunroom where everyone’s sipping tea. And so can your cousins. They think we're having a friendly conversation, now."
 

"That's the thing with this family, friends, the entire
circle
. I'm tired of the act."
 

"What act? You're acting so strange you know."
 

"I need to go."
 

I side-stepped to the side of her but she met me like a calculated chess player.
 

"Let her go. She's not one of us."
 

"What you did was wrong."
 

"We belong together. Why don't you face the facts?"
 

"You're really crazy. Delusional. And should be locked away."
 

She
tsked
her tongue.
 

"Aw, now Atticus. That's not a gentlemanly thing for a man to say to his wife. Words are words. What would your mother think?"
 

Wife.
Ugh! When would she let that go?
 

I blew out so much breath, I could have caused a hurricane with my fury. I boiled with anger and my hands finally flew out to the sides of me whipping through my hair.
 

That was it. Talk was over. My shoulder brushed against hers as I exited the room viciously declaring, "We were kids, Clarissa. Kids in a barn playing a role for our mothers and my crazy
Pride and Prejudice
movie-obsessed twin cousins. It was a play! Just words."
 

I said everything with a hint of brisk menace out as I opened the front door. Her determined heels clanked across the hardwood floor. Her hand grabbed my arm tightly as the door opened.
 

"I'll tell the whole world our secret if you leave. Don't test me Atticus Raymond Branch III."
 

For a second I froze, not from terror or fright but because of pure shock that this animal would stoop so low. The word formed in my larynx, a type of word that was frowned upon by my family.
 

"You are the most evil
bitch
I've ever met." I shook myself from her arm like one loosens themselves from a nasty dog bite and I ran out the door.
 

"Thank you," she called out as if I flattered her. "Guess you just made your own bed, Atticus."
 

I was tired of pretending, tired of the careful calculated appearances to appease all of South Carolina.
 

There in the towncar blowing up snow down our long driveway was the woman who mattered, who came crashing into my world, like a hummingbird, fast, intense, yet beautiful.
 

And I was terrified to death I just broke her buzzing song wings.
 

Chapter Twenty-Four
 

Kate
 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, Kate? I don’t mind.” Her kind words tasted like honey to my wounded sad soul.
 

My eyes were tired of feeling weak, sore and puffy from all my tears. It had been such a big long weekend filled with so much intensity. There were many contrasting emotions, from intense highs to devastating lows.
 

“As much as I really appreciate it, I think I need to be alone. I’m…truly sorry that you had to come along all this way just for me.”
 

“No, don’t apologize at all. I am the one who is truly sorry. Gosh, my sister and Clarissa…” She blew out frustrated air.
 

“This will blow over, I promise. I really like you, Kate. Promise you’ll give my brother another chance? Please don’t be mad at him. It’s killing him that this happened. You have to believe me when I say this.”
 

Then why isn’t he here? Why didn’t he come after me?
 

Please don’t be mad at him.
 

I paced the hallways over and over dwelling these very specific thoughts. And even though I sent Lacey back home hours ago, I couldn’t be left alone with my thoughts and anger.
 

I dialed Claire.
 

“Kate, oh my God, I—”
 

“Let’s go out for margaritas. Now.”
 

Sometime in the late morning, early afternoon the next day….
 

A chime sang. It was like an etheric call, and I lay there cozily with the blankets wrapped around me safe from worries, safe from all cares. Cozy as kept. Until I heard it again. And again. And again…
 

Fuck.
 

That really was the doorbell. I wasn’t dreaming anymore.
 

My weak limbs hit the wood floor. Oh God, I was still dizzy from those five, six - maybe seven? – margaritas. Who was counting anymore? Claire was still asleep. I had
asked her to stayed over.
 

I
think
.
 

Yes, I remember tears, lots of them and her staying.
 

I reached for the robe and trotted down the two flights of stairs like a zombie.
 

Who the fuck was it?
It better not be a reporter or some stupid media person.
 

I looked through the peephole.
 

Oh my goodness, great King of Scotts!
 

It was Atticus Branch the first looking all regal. Dressed in a nice pinstripe suit, he looked around the street thoughtfully.
 

The door creaked as I opened it.
 

“Um, Hi! Mr. Branch. Hi.” I quickly ran my hair over my shoulder, trying to smooth out the craziness. I hadn’t even checked my own reflection.
Please God don’t let me look like a crazy raccoon mess!
The crazy I-was-out-at-a-club-until-4am-and-took-the-walk-of-shame-home look wasn’t becoming for this occasion. “Can I…may I help you?”
 

“Yes. May I come in please, young lady?”
 

My stomach dropped to my toes. I didn’t feel so great.
 

“I’ve come to chat with you, Kate.” His gentle tone was reassuring, with a slightly pleading tone to it.
 

“Oh, of course. Please come in.” I motioned with my hand and stepped out of his way to usher him in. Once he was inside, I shut the door gently.
 

“Um, where would you like to talk?”
 

“How about some coffee?”
 

I nodded thinking it was a very good idea seeing how I was still feeling like I was a sea ship.
 

He surveyed the home as we walked into the kitchen and I poured water into the tea kettle for the coffee press.
 

“You know, I had purchased this home for Mellie.”
 

“Mellie?”
 

“My wife. She loved coming into the city for the orchestra and plays. And of course the shopping.” Hearing of him talking of his love and imagining him with her
warmed my heart. “She’s gone now, of course. Been gone for about ten years. Near the time when we lost our son, daughter in law, and grandson in the plane crash. I tell people all the time that stress is a killer. So is worry. I believe she died of a broken heart holding so much of that worry in at night and every day. It killed her, the sadness, and heartache.”
 

“My goodness. I’m so sorry. Truly.”
 

“As am I. But I say this to say life’s a very precious thing. A lot of things can happen to us. A lot of pressure can be found in this life, but there’s one thing you have to guard, and that’s your heart.”
 

The tea kettle cried out. I poured water into the coffee press and stirred the coffee grounds.
 

“What’s transpired in the press has been terrible, and as head of this family, I want to apologize for my Granddaughter’s actions with such a private book. I thought my Grandson would have been here by now, doing the very same thing, but he’s nowhere to be found.”
 

That just made things worse. Ugh. Yeah,
exactly
. Where was Atticus? I shook my head to dislodge my thoughts of him.
 

“You’ve been thrown to the wolves, Kate.”
 

“I have.” I replied shortly.
 

“You might say, a bridge has even been burned. But you know what happens when you burn a bridge? You have to learn to fly or swim. I think you're gong to soar.”
 

“Wh…what do you mean?”
 

“Now, I know a lot about these types of things, these bridges.”
 

"But I swear to you, Mr. Branch, I didn't mean for the bridge to come crashing down."
 

"Neither did my friend Henry Ford when he was summoned by those pretentious elitist Yankees in that highly publicized press conference where they made him read passages of books and he refused,” he replied. “They knew he finished eighth grade at the age of seventeen and didn’t have much of an education. Their media bullying made him a laughingstock. It was a trap. He was an everyday man creating the everyday car that would change American history. Oh, and when he went back home to Michigan, and
knew everyone in the country was talking about him, he got down alright. I saw this firsthand, I tell you. People called him all sorts of things. But he was a mastermind with marketing and he knew how to counteract it.”
 

His story was compelling, but I failed to see the resonance. I wasn’t creating a great American classic; I just wanted to make my own little dreams come true. As if he read my mind, Mr. Branch continued.
 

“Now you may wonder why I’m telling you this story about my friend Henry. And I’m going to tell you as soon as you hand me a cup of that delicious coffee.”
 

I couldn’t help but to laugh at his charm. I poured him a cup and myself one as well.
 

“Now, let’s go sit over yonder, right in there.”
 

Over yonder. How precious was he!
 

“Now, I see talent when I look at you. And I see success. I saw your business plan and you had a lot of things thought out. You were very purposeful. You are driven and you have charisma. Not to mention, your cupcakes are pretty delicious.  There will always, always, always be haters in this life and traitors who light fire to our bridges, our set paths that we think we need to take to get us where we’re supposed to be. But you know what leaders do?”
 

"They create new paths for others to follow."
 

"You're a pioneer. Remember who you are and what you are. You're a… what did you say, last night, a Scorpion? Now I’d never exactly think of a lady being one of those creatures. But you know, it works."
 

He nodded his head thoughtfully and sipped his coffee. I wanted to burst out into laughter at that scorpion comment, but the truth was I felt like I was receiving wisdom from an old sage. So this is what it must feel like to have a real Grandfather! His charm was undeniable.
 

"It's an astrology sign. I’m a Scorpio. The less evolved actually is a scorpion, the more evolved is a phoenix."  
 

He nodded in a great deal of thought at this.
 

"Yes, yes. The phoenix takes great flight. It does indeed work. That's how you make it in business; you rise above! You have to have your mind so set up to win that
even the toughest blow can't shake your firm foundation. I started my company in 1954 at fifteen with only a few pennies I found on the street. You probably don't know this about me but I don't even know my Daddy.