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He gives a small grin. “Like I said, anything for Poppy’s family.”

When Poppy found out they cleared her to return, she had already decided. Her boss tried to change her mind but ultimately was amenable to her proposal. With only a month left before contract renewal, she got her two weeks in shows and then will train with her replacement.

My family jumped on the news, wanting to be here for her comeback show, but she persuaded everyone to wait. Then she called Marco and invited him personally and mentioned Karen was welcome to join.

I didn’t agree with her generosity until I understood her motives. Once again, Poppy had the upper hand. The invitation wasn’t about smoothing things over with Karen—it was a crossroads.

Natasha was discharged from her rehab facility today in Virginia.

Poppy’s last show is tonight in Vegas.

It is impossible to be in two places at once.

If she was serious about trying to reconnect with Poppy, Karen had to make a choice. She came to Vegas.

Something happened to Karen that day in December. It could have been the interview, the harsh reality of her life, or the way I laid her out, but whatever it was, she changed her tune. Marco admitted she came to him with a sincere apology, taking responsibility for her actions, and asked for his forgiveness. She knew their marriage was over and accepted it. She then asked him advice on how to proceed with Poppy. Unlike Marco, she didn’t have the excuse of the injury to rely on.

Whatever he told her—she listened.

Her first message to Poppy was a full apology. No excuses, no bullshit, no trying to justify her actions. It was a straight-out apology.

Poppy mulled it over for a week before responding with a simple acknowledgment. Since then, Karen messages every day, sometimes simple messages or links to something she thinks will interest Poppy. But always with the same ending, an apology.

I’m not ready to accept her into our life, but typical Poppy, she’s taking it in stride. Karen’s slowly chipping away at her resistance.

“Oh, good lord.” Darby sucks in a sharp breath. My gaze swings to where Scottie and Billy are walking in. Scottie is decked out in a shiny gold suit complete with crystal-studded sunglasses. They come straight to us.

“Don’t be rude,” Darby speaks to no one in particular.

Marco’s wide eyes swing to me. I shrug, taking a large swallow of my drink to avoid talking.

“Ashlyn and Miller are on their way,” Scottie informs us casually.

No one replies, Pierce keeping the rim of his glass to his lips.

“Andrew and Ryanne are with them.”

Silence.

“We’re late because Stephanie is brooding. She’s not happy about missing this. I’ll be glad when her baby gets here.”

Darby clears her throat. “Ummm, thanks for the information, Scottie.”

“Why is everyone mute?”

“Because I’m trying not to piss my wife off by saying you look like an idiot,” Pierce tells him.

“This is the perfect outfit for a night in Vegas.”

Billy drops his chin, but I catch his smirk.

“Y’all know nothing about style,” Scottie quips snidely.

“Neither do you, apparently,” I add.

He pulls the glasses down the bridge of his nose, peering at me over the rim. “Wait until we’re clubbing later. My outfit is all the rage.”

“We’re not clubbing later.”

“You may not be, but Billy and I are taking our beautiful bohemian out on the town. This is a big night.”

“Your flawless flower child has a husband that says no.”

“We’ll see. My guess is she’ll love my outfit.”

I can’t argue with that. It’s loud, flamboyant, and ridiculous, which means Poppy will love it.

“We’re getting drinks and mingling with people who can appreciate my awesomeness.” He waves us off, prancing to the bar.

“I packed his grey suit. Surprised the shit out of me when he came out wearing that,” Billy explains.

“Well, if anyone can pull it off, it’s Scottie,” Darby sympathizes.

“I’d better go over there. Looks like Annie is stealing his glasses.” He trails after Scottie.

“When Poppy introduced us this afternoon, he seemed normal,” Marco states with confusion.

“He’s eccentric; it’s an acquired taste,” I clarify.

“He’s also partially the reason you met Poppy,” Darby adds smugly.

“Now I really don’t know what to think about him.”

I slice my eyes to Marco. “Watch it, old man. Don’t forget the reason you’re standing here.”

Darby snorts as Pierce chuckles. Marco’s eyes light in a way that reminds me of Poppy.

“Don’t worry, I know I’m here to pay for the festivities and pack up a house.”

“You complaining?”

“Nope, it’s an honor.”

“Oh, we all have it under control. The sitters Ryanne arranged will be back tomorrow afternoon. All the women will have that house packed in no time.” Darby goes on to tell the plans I’ve heard about this week.

As expected, the talk Andrew had with Ryanne back in January went his way. She took a leap of faith, and moved to Charleston. Her job didn’t want to lose her so she went virtual and agreed to limited travel. She insisted it was an eight-week trial, knowing Poppy and I were keeping her house in Vegas if things didn’t work out.

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