“You know”—Jackson turned to me, resting his elbow on the bar top—“you could be a little more grateful.” He shrugged. “Especially since Granny rescued you from small-town obscurity.”
My fist itched with the urge to connect to Jackson’s jaw. My cousin never missed a chance to comment on the past. Whether it was during Thanksgiving dinner, Christmas brunch, or a work event. And each time, I’d had to grin and bear that shit. Well, except for that one time. The last thing I needed was to draw unwanted attention to myself. Especially since Ms. Tea was doing her best to discredit me.
Family, perhaps?Someone with a definite axe to grind.
Albany’s words at the café filtered through my mind. She’d mentioned a lover, but I’d made it a point to never have seconds. Every woman I’d dealt with knew the deal because I was up front about my expectationsandmy limits. One-and-done. It had been that way for years, so I doubted it was a jilted woman angry with me for playing her. But family …
I eyed Jackson skeptically, my gaze locking on the scar just above his eye. The one I’d put there several years ago. The two of us were like fire and water, had never gotten along. And never would see eye to eye on anything. It would be so easy to tell his ass off, but more than likely, I’d come off the villain.Story of my life. “Walk away,” I warned.
“Honestly, why don’t you do everyone a favor and leave,” Jackson suggested in a muffled voice. “The company, the state.”
And your head is her target.This is also why you’re in deep shit if we don’t unmask her soon.
Suddenly, everyone was a suspect. Because my livelihood, my family, mymother, depended on me. And I would be damned if I let anyone—including Jackson—change that.
“And it’s no secret that your activities have cast an unflattering light on the company.”
I blinked, almost stunned that Jackson had still been talking. “I thought I told you to walk away,” I said. Against my better judgment, I finished my drink and asked for another.
Jackson folded his arms and assessed me. Shaking his head, he muttered, “You’re not even worthy of the Batchelor name. And neither was your mo—”
I must’ve blacked out because I heard Hendrix in my ear. “Bruh, let him go.”
Everything in the room returned back to focus. The soft jazz played on the speakers, the low hum of voices around me, eyes boring into me, Granny’s disappointed glare, and Jackson … My cousin was staring at me, fear unmistakable in his eyes, sweat on his brow, and my fists curled into the lapel of his suit.
Hendrix pried my hands away from Jackson. “Come on, man,” he whispered. “Don’t do this here.”
Letting my cousin go, I stepped back and scanned the room again. Jackson scampered away from me, clutching his throat and swallowing rapidly. Thankfully, most of the people in the room were still engrossed in conversation, unaware that there was any commotion. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks that the bar was tucked off into a nook in the back of the event space, out of sight for most of the fundraiser attendees. But there were a few guests, the ones closest to us, that were watching intently.
Whispering.
Judging.
After all these years, I should’ve been used to disapproving looks, the sneers from people who’d automatically lumped me in with my father. And my mother … Jackson had hit a nerve when he mentioned her. The audacity of that muthafucka for even daring to talk about her—to me—ensured that I would lose it. Because she didn’t deserve anyone’s ire. She was the best person I knew, and she’d sacrificed everything to take care of us.
“What the hell is your problem?” Granny muttered under her breath. “You know how important this charity is to me. And you embarrass me?”
“Granny, I—”
“I don’t want to hear it,” she snapped, her eyes flashing with rage. “My office tomorrow morning. For now? Take your ass home and sleep it off.”
Shame rolled over me and my eyes locked on Albany, standing near the entrance of the ballroom. The grimace on her lips, the slump in her shoulders told me she’d seen everything. Despite her words earlier, insisting she didn’t care about me, she was disappointed. And I was too.Because I knew better.
Bile burned the back of my throat as the cognac I’d consumed threatened to come out. Unable to take that look in her eyes, I averted my gaze and told Hendrix, “Let’s go.”
Nodding, Hen said, “I’ll meet you out front.”
My eyes landed on Albany again. The disappointment was still there, but there was also something else. Sadness. Sighing, I made my way to the front door. There was a line of people waiting for the valet, so I took a seat.
Moments later, I heard the click of heels on the marble floor. Then I felt someone take the seat next to me. The soft scent soothed my tattered spirit—jasmine and vanilla.Albany.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“Wes, please.”
“No,” I pressed, meeting her gaze. “Please listen to me. I’m so sorry. When I look at you, I see the hurt in your eyes, the pain that I caused. I can’t go another day without apologizing to you for hurting you.” I closed my eyes, grateful for this moment because it needed to be said. “I wanted to be the person who never hurt you. I knew everything—how your parents treated you, how you never felt like you belonged in that family. I promised myself that you would always belong to me. And I failed you.”
“I don’t know what to say,” she said softly. “I guess … Thank you for the apology?” She smiled, bumped her shoulder to mine. “Not sure it changes much, though.”
