by Ava Miles
He drummed his fingers on the desk, his mood shifting from lovesick to bitter frustration. The policy made sense, but it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.
“There has to be a way to pry the name out of him.”
“There isn’t. Listen, I know you’ve paid me well, but this has gone on long enough. Gunner might have some rough edges, but I like him. He’s not a bad man. Let this go.”
His head pounded in time with his fingers on the wood. “No. If he told you the source was one of Rye’s female relations, he’ll tell you a name if you ask.”
“And how I am supposed to ask something like that without looking suspicious? It was hard enough to get him to tell me that much. He’ll never do it, Clayton. You may not believe this, but he has ethics. He won’t break the confidentiality agreement.”
Clayton shoved a stack of media flyers out of the way on his desk so he could sit back and kick up his heels, one of his best thinking postures. Then it clicked. “Rye’s giving a huge concert to raise money and awareness for domestic violence.”
“I’ve heard. It’s all over the airwaves. Every radio station I’m listening to is giving away free tickets.”
Yes, he and Mama had made sure they had tickets to give away. It was excellent promo. Not that they were struggling with that. Rye’s concert was gaining national media attention, and Good Morning America had just asked him to perform a few days beforehand.
“I’ll invite Gunner to attend the concert under the auspices of…” Of what? He and Gunner Nolan would have met each other on Main Street with six-shooters on if they’d lived in the Wild West.
“I’m sorry, did you finish your sentence? I’m waiting with bated breath for your mastermind plan here.”
That’s what he liked about Megan. She was level-headed and snarky. She didn’t take shit from anyone, him included.
“What if I invited him to bury the hatchet?” he asked.
“He’d never believe you,” she told him. “Everyone knows you hold a powerful grudge once crossed.”
Yes, he did. That was who he was. No one ever got a second chance with him. Amanda had taught him that the hard way.
“Then how about you take him there on a date? Tell him you’d like to see the concert. If he cares for you, he’ll go, but he might bitch about it later if you ply him with liquor.”
“Resorting to getting the man drunk, are we? Then what?”
“Let him release his anger against me and Rye. Feed it by agreeing with him. Gunner most likely thinks Rye’s concert is a publicity stunt, right?”
“Actually, he thinks it’s personal. Now he thinks Rye paid the million dollars to get his sister away from an abusive husband. Before he thought it was just another case of a superstar throwing money around, but he’s come to think there’s more to it.”
So Gunner was on the right track, just like a few other media outlets were. He’d have to talk to Rye about that. Even GMA had asked if Rye would be willing to talk about the reasons for this big concert on domestic violence, sensing a story.
“If Gunner is curious about the concert, that’s your hook. Tell him he might learn Rye’s real reason for staging it if he attends. Tell him you’ve heard Rye’s going to give a personal speech during the show.”
That much was public knowledge, so Gunner wouldn’t get suspicious if he asked around, and he had no doubt the reporter would do exactly that. Heck, he might even contact the leak for a follow-up story. After all, wouldn’t Gunner need a source to run with an article about Tammy being the victim of domestic abuse?
“If he discusses the concert with you, play dumb, but ask why he can’t get in touch with his original source on the million-dollar divorce settlement to find out.”
“Clayton, we’re walking a fine line here. Gunner might think I’m being too nosy.”
“You know how to play it, honey. You’ve lasted longer than any of us thought possible. If this were a movie, you’d be honored with an Oscar.”
“Fine. I’ll do what I can. But if this doesn’t work, it ends.”
That wasn’t something he was going to agree to. “Talk to you soon.”
He hung up, feeling more hopeful than he’d felt in months. If he fanned the media’s interest in the story behind the concert, Gunner would take the bait. He knew it in his gut.
But if he fanned the media’s interest, he would be throwing Tammy’s personal life into the arena. So far, he’d only said Rye believed domestic violence was an under-supported cause.
One thing was certain. Rye would have to agree to his machinations before he set any of this into motion. Hell, Tammy would have to want to come forward and tell her story publicly, and though he knew Rye and Amelia Ann had talked with her about doing so, she hadn’t given them an answer. If she didn’t want anyone to know her business, he couldn’t run with his plan. He’d never willingly do anything to hurt that sweet lady.
Was he a dog for thinking like this? No, Rye had asked him to find the leak, and the sordid search had gone on long enough.
It was time to finish this thing.
Chapter 21
Amelia Ann was flying high after receiving Clayton’s surprise text and his agreement to meet her for dinner tomorrow. Granted, it was one of her busy days and her shift at Community didn’t end until seven, but she’d just have to rush home the minute it was done.
Things with Clayton were progressing. She knew it. Time to nurture the seed.
“Someone’s pretty happy,” Susannah commented, nudging her in the buffet line in the kitchen.
Tory’s fabulous sweet potato casserole looked heavenly, even with the marshmallows Rory had requested on top. She took a healthy helping. “I am. What about you?” she asked, not yet ready to share her news about Clayton. It would be wrong not to tell her family first.
“Doing okay,” Susannah said, helping herself to the Brussels sprouts Tammy had made.
Why God had made the Brussels sprout, Amelia Ann couldn’t say. “I never did like those things. They’re nothing but mini cabbages that look cute, but they still make you bloated.”
Sadie, who was right in front of her in line, turned around and handed her the spoon for the mashed potatoes. “I know! Every time I eat them, I have to stand outside. They give me the worst gas.”
Amelia Ann burst out laughing. She might talk about being bloated, but she would never talk about having gas out loud. “I guess I was trying to say it more delicately.”
Sadie only blinked at her. “Why? It’s a natural body function.”
“So’s body odor,” Susannah commented, “but you don’t see me talking about it.”
“Only because you wear deodorant and don’t smell,” Sadie said, forking a piece of Tory’s famous Chinese pot roast.
The first time Amelia Ann had that pot roast had been the night Rye bought Tammy’s freedom from her ex-husband for a million dollars. Funny how seeing it here made her stomach a little queasy even though she knew it was delicious. She took a small portion of the meat and snagged a few carrots marinated in the juice.
“How are the preparations for the concert coming along?” Sadie asked her as they stood at the dessert table. “Susannah won’t tell us a thing. Or show us one bit of the collage she’s making.”
“You know I never show my work until I’m completely finished,” Susannah said.
“A peek wouldn’t kill you,” Sadie said with a huff. “Especially when you’re assembling something this original.”
“I’ve already tried, Sadie, and your sister isn’t cooperating.”
“She’s always been stubborn.”
Susannah gave a dramatic eye roll, and Amelia Ann had to bite back laughter.
“I sent you my top ten choices for the women’s features by email just before I left,” she said, hoping it wouldn’t fan the flames of Sadie’s frustration. “Let me know when you’ve had a chance to look.”
“I don’t check my email on Sundays,” Susannah said “Mama frowned on us working on the S
abbath growing up, and it kinda stuck. But I’ll dig in tomorrow. I can’t wait. I know it’ll help the collage take final shape. How about we meet later in the week to discuss my choices? I should be done by then. You can come by my place. You haven’t seen it yet.”
“Can I come?” Sadie asked, a plaintive cry designed to wear them down.
“No, darlin’,” Susannah said. “I want you to be as surprised as everyone else when it’s unveiled at the concert.”
“Dagnabbit,” she drew out.
“Ignore her. I might have been stubborn growing up, but Sadie was always the impatient one. Should we grab dessert now, do you think?”
The two decadent choices seemed to distract Sadie from giving them any more guff about the concert. Tory’s succulent chocolate sheet cake was like molten chocolate melting in your mouth, and the chocolate cream pie with meringue, which Tammy had made at J.P.’s particular request, looked heavenly.
“If you haven’t had Tory’s cake,” she said, “grab it. It’s not to be missed. And I’m sure the pie is excellent as well.”
“Chocolate. My favorite food group.” Sadie juggled her dinner plate and tucked her drink of water in the curve of her arm. “So, two of each then. Susannah, you and I can share.”
“Who says I want to share? Rory, sugar, be an angel for Aunt Susannah and grab one of those pieces of cake for me on its own plate. No way am I letting meat juice spoil my dessert.”
Rory and Annabelle had been served first, and they’d apparently either gobbled their food down or abandoned it, because they both were weaving through the crowd in the kitchen like they didn’t want to be left out of the fun.
Sadie winked. “Good idea. Rory, how about grabbing me a piece of pie while you’re at it?”
“Sure! Desserts are the best part of the meal even though Mama won’t let me have any until I eat my supper.” The little boy grabbed two plates and looked up at Amelia Ann. “What about you? Don’t you want dessert?”
Managing the juggling act of a drink, a dinner plate, and a dessert plate was too much for her. “How about you come back for mine once we find a place to sit down and eat?”
“You can sit by Annabelle and me, but your legs won’t fit under our table.”
She leaned over and kissed his blond head, smelling outside, dogs, and the sweet tang of little boy sweat. He and Annabelle had been playing outside for hours before they were called in for dinner.
“We’ll sit close to y’all if we can, but if not, why don’t we go for a walk in the woods after we eat?”
His eyes went wide with delight. “I can show you the tree where J.P. and me saw a white owl. It was so cool.”
Her nephew followed the women as they headed to the tiny settee near J.P.’s grand piano. Rory set their desserts on the coffee table like the most dapper little waiter.
“Thanks, sugar,” Susannah and Sadie said at the same time.
“Okay, now I’ll go get Aunt Amelia her dessert. J.P. says you need to ply your women with chocolate to keep them happy. Ply means spread, you know.”
Amelia Ann had to bite her lip to contain her laughter, and she saw the other two women were doing the same. “He does, does he?”
“My brother grew up with all women,” Susannah said to Amelia Ann. “It made him wise. He learned that the best way to diffuse an argument or stop our tears was to give us a chocolate bar or something sweet.”
“You need your own chocolate fairies,” Rory told them. “Then they’ll bring you chocolate every day, and you’ll never be sad.”
If she had chocolate every morning like they did, her dentist bill would be ridiculous, not to mention her waistline. “Chocolate fairies like kids more.”
Rory waved his hand. “Nah. They love everybody. Don’t they J.P.?” he asked as his hero walked past them.
“Who do?” he asked Rory.
The kid grinned. “You do?”
“Do what?” the man responded.
“Remind me of a man.”
They were playing some silly word association game while her dessert was in danger of disappearing to someone with better plate juggling skills.
“Rory, sugar. Go grab me a piece of cake and pie before someone else gets to it.”
“Okay, Aunt Amelia.” He ran off as if she’d sent him on a sacred mission, his sneakers squeaking on the hardwood floor.
Once she had her dessert firmly tucked in front of the coffee table where no one could steal it—Rye was particularly known for being a dessert thief—she settled back to eat.
Today they were sitting in different spots around the house because the kids had erected an elaborate fort with bed sheets in the dining room, and J.P. was loath to destroy it. She couldn’t blame him. Seeing the kids happy was one of her greatest joys.
Suddenly she missed Clayton, so fiercely it was a pang in her breast. What would it be like if he came to these dinners with her? Stood beside her in line as they served themselves, making jokes about things like Brussels sprouts? Not that she’d ever tell him which foods made her bloated. On that Mrs. Augusta’s advice was sound.
“You’re looking awful serious all of a sudden,” Susannah whispered next to her.
“Just thinking,” she said neutrally and resumed eating.
So far, she hadn’t had time to tell Daddy or Tammy her news about her volunteer work at Community Legal Clinic. She was ready to tell them, but in this crowd, it was awkward. As for her and Clayton…well, part of her felt it might be too soon.
They’d had one date. He’d kissed her. Admitted he cared about her. Tomorrow, they would go out again, and she would see where things went. She schooled herself to stay in the moment.
After filling her belly, she felt more content. The dessert was just as heavenly as she’d known it would be. The chocolate cake was lush and rich, and the meringue over the pudding simply dissolved like honey in hot water.
“Heavens, I’m stuffed,” Sadie said, patting her belly, definitely something Mrs. Augusta disapproved of. “I’m going to have to wear my fat pants when I get home.”
Fat pants? The woman was a size six.
“At least you don’t have gas since you stayed away from the Brussels sprouts,” Susannah said.
Here we go again, Amelia Ann thought. But their banter made her smile.
“You didn’t eat them, did you, Susannah?” Sadie asked. “Please say no. You’re my ride home.”
Her horror was so severe Amelia Ann couldn’t help laughing. “I hope you know how to roll down the windows, Sadie.”
“You ate them on purpose, Susannah,” she accused dramatically, but her mouth was twitching with a laugh that wanted to escape, which took away from the effect.
The McGuiness sisters had the weirdest senses of humor. Even Amelia Ann could tell they were teasing each other now, and over something as common as gas-inducing vegetables. She tried to envision her mama being part of this conversation. The thought only made her laugh harder. In her whole life, she’d never heard her mama break wind. She decided to tell Susannah and Sadie.
“Never?” Susannah asked with wide eyes.
She shook her head.
“But how is that possible?” Sadie asked. “Wouldn’t she explode or something?”
Mama exploding with gas. Now that would be a sight.
“I’m going to have to find Shelby and tell her. She’ll never believe it.” Sadie stood and walked off.
“She’s eating with Tammy,” Susannah called after her sister. She turned to look at Amelia Ann. “Shelby’s really taken to your sister. Like we have to you.”
The comment was so sweet, she grabbed her friend’s hand and squeezed it. “Thank you. I feel the same way.”
The kids ran around the adults, chattering so fast their words slurred together. J.P.’s red setter, Charleston, snored in the corner of the room. Her daddy was talking to Rye, the two of them standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Her brother had greeted her when she’d arrived, but there was a new watchfulness in his
eyes. Like he was sizing her up emotionally and physically now that he knew what she was about with Clayton and the clinic.
She rose, deciding it was time to tell Daddy about her volunteer work. He would be worried, but if there was one thing she’d learned about him, it was that he was her champion. After letting their mama run roughshod over them their whole lives, he’d finally stepped forward and told them he was behind their decisions one hundred percent.
And she loved him for it. His faith had helped transform her. Before, she’d felt like she was a walking wall painting, something beautiful to be admired. Now, she felt like there was blood coursing through her veins and fire at the seat of her soul.
“Daddy?” she asked when she reached them. “Can I snag you for a minute?”
“Of course, sugar. Rye was just telling me about the upcoming concert. It sounds wonderful. I can’t wait to see it all come together.”
Her brother tipped up his beer and took a drink.
“Yes, Rye’s doing a wonderful thing. How about we go outside? It’s a little warm in here.”
Daddy and Rye shared a glance, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Sure thing, honey.”
He put his hand on her back and led her outside. As they passed Tammy, she noticed her sister was surrounded by a veritable crowd—Annabelle, Reverend Louisa, Sadie, and Shelby—so she decided she could wait to tell her sister about her volunteer work. Maybe they would find time later today. If not, she could make time to visit her. They hadn’t visited alone together in months, really, what with Tammy’s new business, her relationship with J.P., and Amelia Ann’s chaotic schedule.
“What’s up, sugar?” Daddy asked when they reached the back of the house.
“Let’s walk a bit, shall we? It’s a beautiful day.”
“It is indeed,” Daddy said agreeably, putting his hands behind his back as he walked companionably beside her.
The golden glow of the afternoon light only added to the magic of the gardens Tammy had created here. The mill on the right of the property gurgled and bubbled, the most idyllic water feature Amelia Ann had ever seen.