by Tatum West
“Sure,” I say. “Happy to. I may be able to get some friends to join me.”
Imagine the mayhem if Justin Timberlake showed up in Abingdon for the festival! I think we’d sell a few tickets. They’d do it for me, for a favor. Of course, I’d owe them, major. Maybe Justin Timberlake wants to be a Broadway contender. The Barter Theater may be the perfect place for him to start getting to know the right people.
Or maybe I’m delusional. Time will tell. Whatever happens, I know Fox is going to be right there with me.
MOM’S EYES GROW WIDE. “WHAT?!” she demands. “He wants you to do what?”
I explain it all to her again.
“And you’re willing to do this? On nothing more than a promise from Dick Brown?”
“Yeah,” I say. “He’s never led me astray before. He knows his board of directors. He knows me. I don’t think he’s fucking around. I don’t think he’s got the time to fuck around.”
Mom’s expression softens.
“You’re coming home?” she asks, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Really?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I’m coming home. And I’m bringing Fox with me.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
FOX
I put my signature on the last of the contracts as Nikki’s attorney, handing them to the notary to stamp and sign before they’re filed at the county courthouse.
The love of my life is now the newest Creative Director of the Barter Theater, with all the good and bad that entails. A few minutes after taking the position, he signs a check to Chase Bank, paying off the more than one million dollars in debt the theater took on under Dick Brown’s guidance.
An hour later, Nikki stands beside Dick Brown during a meeting with theater staff and acknowledges he has only scant experience running a summer stock theater. “I do know what it takes to run a creative business, though,” he says. “It starts with relying on people who have proven themselves. I can’t do this by myself, and I don’t want to.”
The semi-stunned staff look on, trying to figure out what’s happened. The change in management is a surprise.
Nikki smiles sweetly. “It’ll be a week until The Dollhouse starts running. Then we’ll have the Memorial Day concert,” he reminds them. “Let’s not worry about this until after the summer starts. We’ve got plenty of time, and I’ve got a hell of a lot of ideas.”
The staff nod, tacitly agreeing. A girl who can’t be more than nineteen raises her hand. Nikki acknowledges her.
“Well…” she says, “I was thinking, since you’re a recording artist and all, maybe we should look at doing a musical. Evita is always good.”
Nikki smiles humbly. “I don’t think Madonna is ready to reprise that role.”
Everyone laughs, but Nikki isn’t laughing. He’s thinking it through.
“For now, we’re going to finish what we’re doing with The Dollhouse and then start casting in the spring for next season. Ibsen is important enough that we shouldn’t have to worry about what’s next—not just yet.”
There’s laughing and hugs all around. And as usual, everyone still adores my Nikki.
Nikki still has a few obligations to fulfill, and he has to film his cameos for the Netflix series. His contract with Asylum Records was satisfied with this last release, and he dragged his feet re-signing, which makes it easier to just walk away. We’re going to have to go back to LA to put our respective homes on the market and appear in court when Sal Domenico and Derek Bowman’s trial dates come up. Stephan’s going to throw a party when I tell him I’m resigning, because that leaves him as the top dog at the firm. He’ll bring up a new senior partner better suited to him than I was. It’ll work out better for everyone.
I think once we settle in Abingdon permanently, we won’t need security any longer. As much as Nikki loves James and the others, he’s looking forward to being free of his minders. I’m looking forward to enjoying more privacy too.
The only real question remaining is what am I going to do with myself in Abingdon, Virginia? Once we get settled, I’ll figure that out. Until then, there’s only one more thing I know I must do before this trip is over.
NIKKI and I snuggle together on the couch in his parent’s living room, long after they’ve gone to bed. The lights are low, and the air has a hint of romance. I’ve got a tumbler of good Scotch while Nikki drinks a beer. It should be warm for the parade tomorrow, and the spring breeze casts a spell of contentment over everything in this town.
I circle my arms around Nikki’s chest, pulling him backwards into mine. He’s warm and relaxed against me. He tips his head back, looking up into my eyes.
“I hope this trip home has been a good one.”
I lean down and kiss him gently, loving the sweet softness of his full lips.
“I’ve never had one better,” I say. “I never went home often, you know. I wasn’t terribly welcome after a while. But this is nice. It makes me want to have a home, a real place with you.”
“I’m glad. I think Abingdon might be my favorite thing.”
“I have something I hope is going to add one more reason to like it here,” I say, reaching into my pocket for the small velvet pouch I’ve been carrying around for days.
“What’s that?” Nikki asks, still looking straight ahead, sipping his beer.
I remove the heavy platinum band from the pouch, taking Nikki’s hand in my own. Before he even registers what I’m doing, I slide the ring inlaid with blazing sapphires and sparkling diamonds onto his ring finger. His breath catches in his chest. I feel his heart skip a beat, then he huffs and pushes his hand out to get a better look at it on his delicate hand.
“I’m going to cry,” Nikki says. “Because that ring is so beautiful, and because it means you love me, and because I know we’re meant to be together, and this is proof of it.”
I press my lips to the skin at the nape of his neck. “We are meant to be together,” I agree. “I want us to always be together.”
Nikki turns on the couch, swinging his legs around so we’re facing one another. The expression on his face is one-part earnest devotion and one-part wonder. He shakes his head at me.
“This is so amazing,” he says, reaching into his own pocket. He comes out with a tiny velvet pouch just like the one in my hand.
No… It isn’t… It can’t be…
Nikki tips the pouch up, dropping its contents into his hand. It’s a heavy platinum ring with delicate scrollwork over the exterior. The ring has nearly identical sapphires and diamonds, an echo of the ring I purchased for Nikki.
He reaches forward, taking my hand in his, slipping the thing onto my finger.
I’m breathless—and speechless.
I discovered no fewer than two dozen artisan jewelers working in or near Abingdon, and another three between here and Bristol. I took an entire day visiting all their studios or shops, seeing hundreds of rings. The idea that Nikki happened upon the same jeweler and decided that he’d made the perfect ring for me is too unlikely to be a coincidence.
“When did you get this?” I ask him. He’s barely been out of my sight for two weeks.
“The day you recorded all the contracts downtown,” he says. “The day you paid off the loan to Chase? Dad helped me. He knows the jeweler.”
He bought this one before I bought mine? It was meant to be.
I gaze down at our hands, now adorned with matching symbols of our permanent devotion to one another. The rings look good, and even better when I lace my fingers into his.
“I love you, Nikki,” I whisper, fighting back tears. He’s softly crying unashamedly. I pull him close, touching our foreheads together. “I love you, and I’m going to marry you, and we’re going to share a hell of a great life together, surrounded by people who appreciate us.”
He nods, wiping the tears from his cheeks. “I know,” he sighs dramatically. “I know, and I’m already so happy about it, I can hardly stand it.”
EPILOGUE
NIKKI
The secret to happiness is no secret at all. It’s simple; do what you love, surround yourself with people who add value to your life in more ways than just the economic, and don’t be afraid to enjoy yourself.
Fox and I were lucky enough to stumble upon one another and that simple formula at roughly the same time. I discovered I don’t need crowds of people frantically screaming my name to feel appreciated. Fox discovered he can make his way very successfully, far from the glitzy facade of Beverly Hills. Not long after getting licensed to practice law in Virginia, doing exclusively pro-bono work for locals and for the ACLU, he found the corruption in the local justice system in need of correction. He ran for District Attorney on a platform of reigning in corrupt cops and lawyers, and even exposed dirty judges. His campaign was controversial and hotly opposed by the old guard, but at the end of the day natives and newcomers alike who’ve had enough with the rotten ‘good ‘ole boys’ voted for Fox.
He’s making incremental changes where he can, including turning up the heat on the local Chief of Police, forcing him into early retirement. Fox and a search committee just hired a dear old friend of mine, Gilman Steele, as the new Chief.
I ran into Gil at Buskerfest today. He’s as beautiful and as fearless as ever. I haven’t seen Gil since my wedding four years ago, and that is far too long. I’m glad he’s come back to Abingdon for good. This little town needs good people like him.
Of course, there are plenty of great people here already, and more arriving every day. I know this because we’re responsible for painting Abingdon pink with pride. Fox and I helped make it hip to be queer, and we’ve been a two-man recruiting team for fresh new LGBTQ faces to come to our town and join the party.
And in my opinion, there’s always an excuse for a party. Especially in Abingdon, where I have my friends.
Tonight, the party is in celebration of another successfully concluded Buskerfest, and hundreds of thousands of dollars raised for the city coffers. I’ve invited half of queer Virginia and all our straight Abingdon allies. Everybody’s here. Everyone’s dancing, eating, drinking, enjoying themselves. I even saw Gil here earlier, which surprised and pleased me.
I ate way too much, which I often do anytime we have a good party. Tomorrow, I’ll run it off and skip breakfast.
Since retiring my career as a professional diva, I’ve discovered a couple of new talents. The first is attracting A-list actors and musicians to come to Abingdon to perform at either the Barter Theater or one of our various festivals. The second is throwing great parties.
As great parties go, tonight’s is well above average. Earlier this evening, I held court poolside for a collection of local fans who treat me like the elder statesman of gender fluidity. They copy my clothes, my make-up, my hair, and they gather round asking questions about my days in LA.
This party doesn’t begin winding down until the wee hours. I try to stay awake long enough to see all my guests off, but it might be tough tonight. I’m exhausted.
“Lay down here and stop pretending to be interested,” Fox says, gently pulling me down onto his lap. He’s warm and strong and sexy as fuck, and his lap is my favorite place in the world, though I prefer it naked. His fingers drop to my head, gently threading through my hair.
“Keep that up and you’ll have to carry me to bed, honey,” I promise him, “Which may not be a bad idea.”
“I think that’s a fabulous idea,” he replies, kissing my forehead.
Just as I’m about to get up, my phone rings. It’s Gil Steele.
“That’s odd,” I say. “I thought he was here.” I answer, “Hey Gil, what’s up?”
What Gil says next rattles my naturally happy, contented demeanor. I can’t even believe it.
Before I can even process the news, Kendall Steele ambles up, saying, “Great party. Really. I’m headed out soon, but I was just wondering…”
Still on the phone, Gil asks me, “Have you seen Kendal? I left him at the party. Can you give him a message for me?”
“No need,” I say. “Tell him yourself. He just walked up.”
I hand the phone to Kendall. “It’s Gil,” I tell him, then turn to Fox feeling a chill raise from my tailbone to the top of my head. “The most awful thing has happened…”
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Tatum West is a writer and lover of MM romance. She grew up queer in a straight world. She’s now a mom of two, a dog-mom of one, and she’s working hard to raise kids who know that love is love and see the magic and depth of all human interactions. She crochets, crafts, and creates. She’s so glad she gets to write for a living and make characters who speak to her soul.
Tatum hails from Virginia and went to camp every summer near Abingdon. The Abingdon of the Bridge to Abingdon is a fictionalized version of many small towns, all thrown together and rolled up into one. The men of the town are the ideals created by her heart and mind, all on their paths to true love.
Look for the rest of my books on Amazon.
The print and kindle editions are all available on my author page.
You can find more information at www.tatumwest.com.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
About the Author