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Blake is a cute, young college guy who cleans pools for extra cash. He doesn’t have many customers, mainly just ones in our neighborhood, from what he’s told me. Smart move—just upcharge the wealthy residents who want to help out a struggling college student. I can’t help but wonder just how Missy is tipping him in return for cleaning her pool.
Maybe that’s why she gossips like she does. Be at the head of Charleston society; that way, no one can cut her by the throat like she does others. I guess the saying those who throw stones shouldn’t live in glass houses doesn’t apply to Missy Jenkins.
Standing up and smoothing out my light blue dress and blonde hair, I go to exit my pew.
I have to get home and start figuring out my plans, not worrying about the sexy Father Lachlan or who Missy is trying to sleep with.
Note to self: Don’t call him sexy again.
It’s so apparent my marriage is over. I just found the footage less than three hours ago, and this is where I am and what I’m thinking about. Already eager to spread my legs for a hot priest who was looming in a dark corner.
This is too much for one day. I need a cocktail first before heading home. Kevin won’t be there, rather at the golf course, but there is something ick about that house now. Even more so than before.
A cocktail at my favorite hidden gem bar off the tourist-filled King Street will help me gather my thoughts. Or forget about them. I’m not sure which is what I need.
Day one. It’s only day one. I have to remind myself of that.
The new Avery will be out of that house as soon as she can, but I need to research and plan my exit strategy. I’m not usually one to dwell or put off what I can take care of today to tomorrow.
This is different. I will give myself grace.
For fucks sake. This godforsaken religion is beginning to rub off on me.
A cocktail is definitely the right decision.
As I make my way to the sprawling doors, I am actively trying to avoid Father Lachlan and Father Greg.
Father Greg has been trying to reach me about the upcoming gala. He wants me to write another check. This whole town runs on the thirst for money. Who has more? Who doesn’t have enough? Who are you going to get it from?
Society life isn’t what I thought I was getting into when I married Kevin. Yes, I knew he was wealthy and successful, but I didn’t realize how much he valued high-society life. Even though I was young when I first met him, I had my own money and never took to this type of lifestyle on my own.
My father had run a successful company out of Seattle, Washington, and established a trust fund for me. I had gained access to that trust fund and more when my parents passed away.
As the heir to his fortune, I was also given a majority share of my dad’s company, his savings, and investments. I approved my dad’s best friend, Fisher, to take over as CEO of the company. He was already a senior vice president there, and it just felt like the right move for my dad’s memory to live on.
Fisher keeps in touch with me periodically, but he lives in Seattle, so it’s usually only a personal phone call every now and then or when we have business to discuss.
He has his own son whom he’s trying to build a relationship with and needs to focus on as well. About five years ago, Fisher found out that a former girlfriend had a baby and never told him. That baby showed up on his doorstep as a seventeen-year-old, ready to take his pent-up rage out on Fisher. Needless to say, they’re still working on their relationship.
I’m grateful I still have someone who cares about the real me, even if he is thousands of miles away and dealing with so much in his own life.
Shaking out of my thoughts again, I keep walking toward the doors.
I am almost there. Focus on that cocktail, Avery.
A dirty martini with extra blue-cheese stuffed olives is calling my name.
“Avery!”
Oh no. It’s not the dirty martini. I can hear Father Greg’s voice literally saying my name, trying to catch my attention in the distance.
I wince. Shutting my eyes tightly for a moment as I hold my breath. I can’t be here. I should keep going, pretending I don’t hear my name being called… but I don’t.
Taking a deep breath before plastering on my widest smile, I turn to where I heard his voice coming from. Yes, that’s him. I see Father Greg is, in fact, flagging me down.
Father Lachlan is speaking with Missy nearby.
Slowly, I make my way there, trying to calm my inner thoughts. It doesn’t help matters when I can feel Father Lachlan’s eyes on me as I approach Father Greg.
