Page 37 of Best Laid Plans

"You coming, Bailey?" Diego rolled down the window.

Bailey looked at him, and then me. She was just about ready to fall apart.

"Give us a minute," I told Diego. He rolled the window back up.

"Let's stay the night together. Please, Anson," Bailey begged.

"No."

"Why?"

"Bailey," I warned.

I knew she wanted to ask me about Nova but wouldn't. She didn't want to know the truth, not really.

She sniffled. "Are you going to fire me?"

Fucking hell!

"No. But you're probably not going to lead the Sentinel Heights project. We'll figure out how you can contribute to it."

"Diego was rude to me," she pouted.

"People are going to speak up when you don't behave professionally, Bails."

"You can ask them to treat me better. I'm going to be their boss's wife," she clipped.

"Which means nothing in the large scheme of things. You are not very good at this job, Bailey. I don't know what you're good at yet, but we'll figure it out. Now, get into that SUV and go home."

I was being harsh, but I needed to be alone.

I opened the back of the SUV and pulled out the leather bag that contained my laptop. I ushered Bailey in, and shut the door. I patted the top of the SUV and nodded at Diego, a silent plea to not give Bailey a hard time since I'd already done that. He acquiesced tacitly with a tilt of his head that simply said, "It's your funeral, asshole."

Chapter 16

Nova

"To Nova, for putting together a kick-ass proposal for her first one hundred million dollar plus project." Luna held up her glass of bubbly.

Aurora and Stella joined her. I laughed and clinked my glass with theirs. We were at the Fitzroy, one of my favorite bars in Savannah. It was in a historic, beautifully restored building, and had maintained that old Savannah feel with exposed brick walls, polished hardwood floors, and high ceilings with ornate moldings.

We were on the rooftop because there was nothing as beautiful as a Savannah spring evening. We'd started our celebration with a bottle of champagne and a variety of Southern appetizers that the bar was known for.

"Now, tell us everything about this Anson situation," Luna urged.

"There is no situation. I knew him when I lived in Sentinel. We dated for a hot minute when I was in high school, and he was at Yale. It didn't end well. He, apparently, still hates my guts…but I can handle him." I took a sip of the crisp sparkling wine, my heart aching as it always did when I remembered those days with Anson—the happiest I'd ever been.

Aurora put her hand on mine. "Does it still hurt?"

"I get nostalgic. Because he was a light during some very dark days." I smiled wistfully. "I met him the summer before I started my senior year in high school. We spent a lot of time together. After he went back to Yale, we kept in touch over the phone. We texted. We talked. He came back in June after I graduated high school to surprise me on my eighteenth birthday. We spent the night together at the Larue mansion."

"The mansion?" Stella cocked an eyebrow.

"That's what everyone in Sentinel called it. Looked like a palace to me 'cause I lived in a tiny studio with roaches."

Aurora pursed her lips. "Sucks to be poor, doesn't it?"

"Sucks balls," I agreed.

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