by Anne Harper
Sloane wrapped her arms around Carol before she could finish the thought. “Thank you.”
Carol stiffened at the contact but eventually returned the hug. When they separated, she shook her head a little and cleared her throat.
“Okay, now that the mushy stuff is done, I think it’s time for you to go into the other room.”
Carol took Sloane’s hand and walked her right on through her confusion to the entrance of the hall. Emma was standing just outside the door. Without an explanation, she took the picture from Sloane’s hand, gave it back to Carol, and then took that same hand. She led them across and inside the grand room.
Sloane thought she was confused before.
The dance floor had already been cleared, along with the equipment, but now the lights were back on and two speakers were set up at the corners. The chairs that had also already been put up were back out, this time in two short rows and facing the dance floor.
In those chairs sat Ms. Peggy, Justus and his mother, Felicity, Dewey, Dixon, and Santana.
“What the—?” Sloane started, but Emma hushed her.
“You’re going to want to just go with the flow on this one.”
Emma took her to the edge of the dance floor, where someone walked out of the side door with another chair.
It was Callum.
He set the chair in the middle of the dance floor and then collected Sloane from Emma. He took her to the lone chair and, after he got her to sit, spoke around a grin.
“You missed the pageant, so it was only fair you see this. And don’t worry, I’m definitely going to record it.”
“Record what?”
Sloane watched, confused, as he ran back to one of the chairs. Marcus and Carol took the seats in the second row.
And then it started.
They all started making noise. From a focused Justus to an extremely excited Dewey, they all just started…
Singing.
“Turn around…”
“Every now and then I get a little bit lonely and you’re never coming ’round.”
Sloane whirled around as Brady’s voice came through the speakers.
“Turn around…” the crowd sang.
“Every now and then I get a little bit tired of listening to the sound of my tears.”
Brady wasn’t just singing—he was dressed up, too. It was his costume for what would have been the talent portion of the pageant. Shirtless, nipples bare, a heavy mermaid tail, and an insane amount of body glitter.
He stalked toward her, microphone in hand.
His expression was serious as he continued to sing with their friends still providing the backup.
Sloane didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to say.
But she did know how to feel.
She smiled as Brady danced up to her while singing. Then came the chorus. He dropped down—a feat, with his tail—and grabbed her hand just as everyone started singing at the top of their lungs.
“And I need you noooow tonight. And I need you more than ever. And if you only hold me tight, we’ll be holding on forever.”
Brady stopped singing, but the crowd kept on belting out the lyrics, all a cappella. He moved the mic so his words to her didn’t come through the speaker.
“I was a fool. I’m ready to talk about our future. Whether that’s here in Nashville or back in Arbor Bay, I don’t care. I just want to be with you,” he said, that carefree smile doing things to every part of her body and heart. “So let me show you by singing this next part really badly. I really need you tonight! Forever’s gonna start tonight! Forever’s gonna start tonight!”
Sloane laughed as Brady went full rock star. He sang his heart out but never finished the chorus.
Sloane jumped into his arms and gave him the same kiss her mother had given her father onstage, all those years ago.
The crowd behind them went wild.
Epilogue
A year later, Brady finished yet another rendition of “Total Eclipse of the Heart.” Most of the audience was the same, plus a hundred more familiar faces, but the venue had changed from Nashville to his second-favorite spot in the world.
Cassidy’s Place in Arbor Bay, Alabama.
He didn’t know it was possible to love something more than the family bar, but the new-old house that he and Sloane had bought the month before had quickly edged into the lead. Though that had nothing to do with the building and everything to do with the woman.
She waved him over to the open barstool next to her, clapping when he got closer.
“Have I told you that’s my favorite thing you do?” she asked after a quick kiss.
Brady arched his brow high.
“And here I thought it was that twisty thing I do in bed.”
Atomic. Cherry. Red.
She swatted at him as Santana basically cackled behind the bar. Dixon looked between them but had his focus on one of Felicity’s cousins. She was one of many women who were still all about the tampon selection in the bathroom. What had been a laughable idea had become a weird but good PR boost for the bar.
Not that the bar needed it anymore.
The shiny, new allure of The Drinking Spot no longer appealed to Arbor Bay. Cassidy’s was back to being the place to be. It probably helped that the Robertsons had become regulars.
All of them.
“I still think you should add some new dance moves,” came Carol’s voice from next to them. She waved at Dixon, who kept his conversation going while making her drink. “You know, maybe throw in a split to really wow the crowd.”
Sloane laughed. “I actually completely agree with her on this.”
Carol smiled her sticky-sweet I’m right smile. The woman’s presence alone would have driven him to drink, never mind the smile, but Queen Bee had become a constant in their lives in the last few months. She was still mean as a hornet and as deadly as a venomous snake, but she’d somehow become their venomous snake.
She was even helping Sloane and Emma renovate Sloane’s office at the house. She needed more space to keep all her event-planning business plans and papers together, and that didn’t include the paperwork that went with being the co-owner of the florist shop. He was just happy that her five-year plan to convince Mrs. Baker to move the shop to Arbor Bay was in her office and not on their kitchen table.
Brady had offered to help with the renovation, but apparently he liked decorations that reminded Sloane of an eighties horror film.
Rude.
“Can I vote against Brady doing a split?” Callum asked. Like Brady wanted to, though Sloane had told him not to yet, he’d abandoned his blazer and tie on the ride from the estate to the bar. “I don’t think anyone wants to see that.”
Sloane rolled her eyes. “You’re my brother. You can’t keep taking his side on things.” She looked at Carol. “Remember how I wanted to paint the laundry room that blue color we liked? These two teamed up together and shot me down.”
Carol turned that venomous stare his way.
“We can make it three on two real fast,” she threatened. Then she stopped and looked around the party. “Wait. Where is Emma?”
She and Sloane looked this way and that while Callum tried his best to look innocent. He hated keeping secrets, but there was one he’d been doing a stellar job at keeping the last month.
“Probably making out with Dewey in a corner again,” Brady lied. “I heard from someone that weddings really put people in the mood.”
Brady winked at Sloane.
There was that blush again.
The front door opened, and everyone turned. Marcus and Felicity came in to a chorus of congrats and cheering. Brady used the distraction to leave Sloane’s side. He moved through the crowd until he got to the new groom.
“Kickass ceremony and reception,” Brady greeted the m
an. Marcus laughed and motioned around the room.
“And it’s going to be a kickass after-party,” he yelled over the noise. “Thanks again for letting us have it here.”
Brady meant it when he said “no problem.”
Not only had Carol become a part of Brady and Sloane’s group in the last few months, but so had Marcus. And Felicity.
She beamed at Brady, still wearing her wedding dress, before she was pulled away to a group gathered around Missy.
When she was gone, Marcus lowered his voice. “Did Emma get it?”
It was Brady’s time to smile. “Yeah. She should be texting me any minute.”
Marcus clapped him on the back. “I’ll just be happy when I don’t have to keep this secret anymore!”
Brady agreed with that.
The party ebbed and flowed for the next hour until finally Emma arrived. Brady met her outside before Sloane could see her.
“Did you get it?”
Emma bounced up and down where she stood, nodding. Then she pulled out the ring and actually squealed.
“It took forever to get Ms. Peggy away from talking to the jeweler, but it’s totally worth it.”
Brady looked at the ring on his palm. It was so small. Just like the woman he was going to propose to the next day. Marcus had hooked Brady up with a jeweler friend who had resized Sloane’s mother’s ring, and Emma had agreed to pick it up, along with an intense amount of lights. She and Callum had already offered to hang them all throughout the clearing behind Cassidy’s before Brady brought Sloane there the next night for a picnic, something they’d been doing once a week since she’d moved back to Arbor Bay.
“Don’t show it to Callum until you’re sure he isn’t about to see Sloane,” Emma warned. “He’s going to cry just like he did when you asked him for Sloane’s hand.” She sighed, then touched her chest. “Oh, Brady, she’s going to love it.”
Brady took the compliment and followed her back inside. Dewey, King of Arbor Bay two years in a row now, caught his queen’s hand the moment she was through the door. He and Emma dance-laughed to the middle of the still-bustling dance floor.
Brady searched out his girl and found her on the back patio. She was finishing up a phone call. He kissed her on the cheek and waited.
When she was done, excitement was making her bounce almost like Emma had.
“What is it?” he asked with a laugh.
“That was Rizzie! She said the publisher wants to buy the second book! The paperwork is going to be sent over Monday!”
“Hell yeah, sweet cakes!” Brady picked her up and spun her around. Then he gave her a kiss that made her sigh. “I told you all that work was going to pay off.”
“You never doubted me for a moment.” She put her hands against his chest and was smiling. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
They shared another kiss. This one was deeper, more meaningful. It took longer for Sloane to catch her breath after.
“I don’t think I could be any happier than I am right now,” she whispered into his arms.
Brady smirked into her hair and lowered his voice.
“We’ll see about that, sweet cakes.”
“What was that?”
“I said I’m still not painting the laundry room blue.”
Sloane detached from him, her stubborn will clearly written across her face.
“Oh, we’ll see about that.”
She took his hand and led him back into the party. Only after she made one last stand about the laundry room did she tell their friends the good news. Brady thumbed the engagement ring in his pocket the entire time.
He ended up with a blue laundry room a month later.
He ended up with a wife two months after that.
They shared a dinner table, conversation, and a surprisingly hot kiss…but Nell never expected to share an office space with the man as her brand-new boss…turn the page to start reading Like a Boss by Anne Harper.
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Chapter One
Antonella Bennett had a thorn in her backside. A gigantic, unforgiving thorn tearing through the brand-new frilly Victoria’s Secret concoction she had hidden beneath her dress. The one meant for Greg Lapinski, her boyfriend.
Her ex-boyfriend.
Her last of three mistakes was that she didn’t shut up when she noticed the teens in the corner were recording her on their smartphones. Instead, seeing the tech-savvy teens threw more fuel on her already burning flaming-hot fire.
“He’s not even a bad guy. That’s the worst part,” she continued, all volume and fiery purpose. “I can’t even really blame him for what happened. He tried to make this work. He never cheated. He was a good, solid guy. But it just didn’t matter, did it?” She turned her attention back to the man behind the host station.
“See, the only thing he did was meet a woman who became a friend—a nice, platonic friend,” she added. “One who, without him looking for it, became a thought in his head. One he ignored because we were in a committed relationship. But I guess when you meet ‘the one,’ staying with someone who isn’t just doesn’t work. Had I known that, I might not have driven hours to surprise him. But no. One kiss in and he called it quits! He said it took being with me to realize she was ‘the one.’ His missing piece. His soulmate.”
Nell wiped her hand across her forehead to try and keep some of the rainwater that had gotten trapped in her curls away from her eyeliner. Not that it would do much good after crying on and off in the car over the last fifty miles or so. One look at the man behind the counter and she knew he’d already been concerned even before she’d started yelling. She glanced at his name tag and powered on, riding the wave of righteous anger that had replaced the feeling of being passed over.
“You know all those romance movies where we as the audience know the main character isn’t supposed to be with their current boyfriend or girlfriend, no matter how decent they are? That we’re just sitting in the theater with our hearts all aflutter when the should-be couple get put into situations that make it hard for them to ignore how they really feel?” Nell pointed to herself. “Well, Timmy, we forget all about the person who had to be someone’s learning experience. About the poor person who maybe thought they had found their soulmate only to be told no by a good guy you can’t even bring yourself to hate!”
Nell shook her head. She was done, 100 percent done.
“You know what? I’m tired of being that girl. The one whose happily ever after we don’t get to see before the credits roll. I am done! Done with soulmates and puzzle pieces and seemingly normal things that give life-altering epiphanies. I’m done with dating. I’m done with men! I’m done with all of it! You hear me, Timmy? All. Of. It. D-O-N-E. Done!”
Timmy, who looked to be around her age of twenty-four, had gone red in the face. But he wasn’t mad. Nope—he looked scared. He motioned to the list of specials on the counter between them. There were hearts all over it. Fitting…since it was Valentine’s Day.
Which had inspired the second of Nell’s three mistakes.
She never should have opened her mouth and yelled at poor Host Timmy.
“I-I understand what you’re saying, miss. I was just letting you know today’s the last day to get our Sweethearts Special, and so if you dine with someone, it’s cheaper.”
The room around them was quiet. Nell, whose raging fires of self-pity and outcry for the underdog were now dwindling, finally glanced around the entire restaurant set up behind her. Donna’s Bar and Grill only seemed to have the one room. Among its tables and booths there were about ten or so people. All were staring at her. The teens in the corner still had their phones up, looks of astonishment and thinly veiled smiles across their untroubled faces.
Nell turned back to Timmy and realized the first of
the three mistakes she’d made.
I never should have stopped. I should have driven straight home and said all of that in the shower, like a normal person.
Nell cleared her throat, tried to smile like she hadn’t just gone on a drunken tirade, sans the drunk part, and straightened her back.
“Well, uh, in my haste to leave Greg’s apartment, I kind of left my purse on his entry table. And this crumpled-up sad wad of cash is all that I had in my center console.” Nell looked back down at the laminated menu next to the specials. They both knew she didn’t have enough for more than a side. That was the whole reason Timmy had mentioned the Sweethearts Special in the first place when she’d asked to check their menu before being seated.
Because having the cops called for not being able to pay for her dinner? Well, that would just be the crap cherry on her shit sundae.
“Can I order a side of Mac n Cheese?” she asked when it was clear Timmy wasn’t going to make any more suggestions after being burned by her for the last one.
He opened his mouth with a look of intense reluctance. Thankfully, he never got the chance to officially turn her away. A new voice entered their bubble.
It was warm and smooth and attached to the man who had been sitting at the table nearest the host station.
“You know, I haven’t ordered yet. Maybe we could split the Sweethearts Special?” He gave her a wry smile. “I was going to eat alone, but it might be nice to have someone who’s not feeling the Valentine’s Day spirit to talk to.” He held up his hand. “Unless you don’t want to talk at all, which is fine. I brought a book I can read.”
Nell was good with details, even if she was bad at being “the one.” Her mother said it was what happened when a Type-A personality, Nell’s father, and a woman who had been in a decades-long love affair with organizational notebooks and binders, her mother, had five kids. One Bennett child was bound to excel at paying attention.
And that was how Nell was able to note the highlights of the man trying to get her cheap chicken tenders and mashed potatoes in a flash.