His father smiled wryly. “What are you gonna do when it gets out that y’all were sneaking around when she was supposed to be working? You read what folks said about her after the Grammys? Not for the faint of heart.”
Jamie’s breaths were clipped as he considered this. Hehadn’t read anything. One more regret he had about that time.
He wouldn’t let those razored barbs hurt her again.
“That’s in the past,” Jamie said, even as the words fell flat from his lips.
His father’s eyes narrowed. “You and I both know that ain’t true. In fact, everything she does from now is gonna come back to you. She’ll never have an identity outside your name. And if she fails, she’ll blame you. She’ll leave you. Did you think of that?”
Jamie shook his head. “I’m gonna support her because she’s supporting me.”
His father’s wry smile dissolved. “What are you getting at?”
Jamie exhaled, dug deep for the strength he needed to say what he had to. Years of lies, rolled in shame and spiked with regret. It all came down to this moment.
“I told Brinton everything, and she wrote about it forLandmark. It’s gonna be this month’s cover story. Which means, that new deal you made me sign isdone, because the truth is gonna be out there. So I want you to cancel the contract, make it official.”
His father’s lips parted, but he didn’t speak. Instead, he strode toward one of the picture windows overlooking the guest house, his back turned to his son. “Fine. Clearly, you’ve made your mind up. Just know that all I’ve ever done was look out for you, even when you cut off your nose to spite your face. I tried to keep you from throwing your life away on a whim.”
“I ain’t that thirteen-year-old boy running away from my problems anymore.” Jamie turned to leave, but his father’s voice halted him like a concrete wall.
“When I was starting out, I didn’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out. I never wanted you, or your mama,to struggle like that.” He scoffed. “My daddy split before I could even walk, and your grandmother, God rest her soul, folded boxes in that paper mill ’til her joints were stiff, and then the cancer spread…”
He waited a long moment, but didn’t finish.
Jamie had never met either of his paternal grandparents, and his father rarely talked about them. Jamie, sadly, didn’t even know where his grandmother was laid to rest. But he knew that his father’s early life had been much harder than his own. Over time, with each personal loss, ruthless pragmatism had calcified his father’s emotions. Jamie couldn’t let himself suffer the same. He wouldn’t waste the grace Brinton brought into his life.
“You’re all I got left in this world, son.”
Jamie spun around, meeting his father’s unyielding stare. “I appreciate you, Daddy,” he offered earnestly. “And everything you’ve done for me—for us. The thing is, there’s more than one way to care about somebody. I hope one day, you’ll see that.”
Jamie didn’t look back again.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
When Brinton woke up, Jamie was gone, which made her feel way too sad for ten in the morning. Her headache had faded, and though she was groggy from the medication, she jumped out of bed. She brushed her teeth and dabbed on concealer, blush, and lip gloss, then changed into a familiar slinky, black midi dress from her closet that Shay had somehow snuck into her suitcase.
Shay had graciously removed the tags and tucked a note neatly into the halter neckline that read:Warning: May Cause Immediate Erection. Proceed Like the Bad Bitch You Are.
Brinton read it a few times and laughed. Shay was the most overbearing, obnoxious, lovable, and perfect little sister. After stepping into her cowboy boots and fastening her gold hoops, Brinton spritzed on another few pumps of vanilla perfume, including between her thighs, and bolted down the stairs.
To her disappointment, Jamie wasn’t there. But there was a bouquet of pert, violet irises in a tall glass vase. Beside it, a still-hot French press pot of coffee and a white box tied withbutcher string. She plucked a note from inside the bouquet and read it aloud:
Bee,
These flowers, the jewels of my town, are said to represent faith, hope, and wisdom. I feel every ounce of each when I look at you. Enjoy some blueberry coffee cake—Liza made it special for you. I’ll be back to pick you up at four. Hope you’re ready for an adventure.
Yours,
J
Brinton’s knees buckled, hard enough that she braced her hands against the kitchen. Three months ago, she was a viral leper. Now, she was living in this storybook little town and receiving romantic gestures from the actual prince of a country music empire. This wasn’t her life. This was the making of a ‘90s rom-com.
And why not? Last night was perfect. He was everything she ever wanted but didn’t believe she deserved. While it was easier to live in perpetual fear, she wanted to believe that she deserved happiness, that she deservedhim.
By a quarter to four, Brinton had packed and re-packed her suitcase, cleaned her room, eaten the entire coffee cake, and finishedLegendborn, which she added to her approved reading list for the book club for the kids in her neighborhood. She pulled out her phone and FaceTimed Shay, who answered immediately.
“Does this call mean what I think it means?” Shay asked from their mom’s cream sectional couch. Her eyes stretched in anticipation.
