Page 15 of The Inquirer

“That’s one of those things I don’t really know.” I lifted a shoulder. “But I have a video conference with the Douglasses and their attorney tomorrow morning. I’d like to have you join us. That way, if there are any questions I can’t answer, maybe they can.”

They exchanged another glance before Shadae nodded. “All right. Now, sugar, tell us all about that weddin’ you went to, and I wouldn’t say no to some pictures.”

Eight

Bradyn

I should’ve stayed at the ranch and made sure Nyx didn’t take advantage of Shadae and Brew. Who knew what she’d been telling them while I was gone? This morning, she’d apologized for jumping to conclusions, but she hadn’t answered any of my questions about what she was doing at the ranch.

If she wouldn’t give me answers, then I’d go to the source.

My chest tightened as the driveway curved, and the house came into view. I had a love/hate relationship with this place.

On the one hand, it had been the center of every family gathering going back to before the Revolutionary War, but on the other hand, it was full of memories I’d rather forget. Like the one where I’d walked into my father’s office and found my girlfriend riding him in his chair. The hurt from Antoinette’s betrayal had all but disappeared, but my dad…

I sighed as I pulled up behind a blue Honda I assumed belonged to one of the employees. My parents either drove expensive sedans or electric hybrids, depending on who my dad was currying favor with that particular week. Well, technically, their drivers drove. They rode.

My older sister, Ashley, would’ve walked right in, certain of her welcome. She was four years older than me and had already been molded into the perfect Southern belle by the time I came around. She’d never argued with any of the rules we’d had growing up, never questioned anything or anyone.

Well, except me. Not only was I the younger brother, I also didn’t like to do what other people told me to do without a good reason. That had made me fair game for her sharp tongue.

I’d thought her dating a man twelve years her senior when she was only eighteen would’ve moved her out of favor just a bit, but since Warren Lester worked for the law firm that handled the family business, he’d been welcomed with open arms. I’d heard later that, the day after they’d met for the first time, Warren had gone to my dad and said that he wanted to ask Ashley out after she turned eighteen. That would’ve stroked Dad’s ego to no end, being asked for permission to ‘court’ his daughter.

Ashley and Warren had gotten married shortly after she’d turned nineteen, and she’d continued with her parental approval streak by having three kids. Warren Jr., Betsy, and Clancy. Naming the last one after Dad had ensured that Ashley would always be the favorite. As if she’d needed anything to win that award.

Yes, she would have walked right in like she owned the place. And since I’d been disinherited, she sort of did. This house stayed in our family, which meant it originally would’ve been passed down to me, but because I didn’t toe the line, it’d go to her now.

As I made my way to the door, I wondered what Ashley would do with it once it was hers. The sprawling three-story house still sat on the same six acres it had been built on when my first ancestor came to Savannah in the mid-1700s. The house itself, however, had changed quite a bit. My ancestors had added to it over the years until it had been transformed into a three-story house of nearly seven thousand square feet. The barn was the same size it had been before, but in the 1930s, it’d been converted into a garage.

All of it was very impressive, and I supposed that was what annoyed me the most. It seemed like my family always had to show how important they were, how long they’d been here. Our grand Traylor slash Calvert legacy was drilled into us from birth, and it wasn’t just only because of Dad’s political ambitions.

I was just a teenager when Papa and Mama Traylor died a year apart. Both of them had quizzed Ashley and me constantly about our heritage. I’d been able to answer their questions, but only Ashley had shared – or maybe mimicked – their pride.

I didn’t recognize the young woman who opened the door after I knocked, and she didn’t offer her name when I gave her mine. A new employee, but definitely one who knew her role.

I followed her into the sitting room, grateful to be out of the humidity while I waited to hear if my parents would grace me with their presence. While the woman went to fetch my parents from wherever they were, I paced around the room. Nothing much had changed since the last time I’d been in here. It still made me as uncomfortable as hell, as if my presence could somehow ruin the aesthetic.

“Bradyn, this is a pleasant surprise.”

I turned when I heard my mother’s voice. It’d been a couple years since I’d seen her last, at least in person anyway. Her hair was still the color of champagne and as perfectly done up as it would have been if she’d come straight from the beautician. I wondered if she was dyeing it yet. Her older sisters had all been mostly gray since their early fifties, and Mom was fifty-six now.

The number surprised me for some reason. It wasn’t like I didn’t know how old she was, but maybe not being around her had made time stand still in my head.

“Good afternoon.” I smiled, even though I could read the tension around her mouth and eyes.

She didn’t want me here.

I crossed to her and kissed her cheek, anyway. I wasn’t here to reconcile. In fact, I suspected that the conversation I wanted to have would end with me being thrown out of the house. When I hadn’t fought back about the disinheritance, we’d had an uneasy truce where we all pretended that the other side didn’t exist. At least, that’s what I’d thought. Sending Nyx after me proved otherwise.

“Would you like something to drink?” Mom asked as she crossed over to the same high-backed chair she always sat in when she was in this room.

“No, thank you.” I went to the sofa and sat. I would’ve preferred to stay up and moving, but I wanted my parents to tell me the truth, and if I aggravated them from the beginning, we’d never get to the reason I was here.

“Millie, darlin’, will you get a sweet tea for Jaylin and me?” Dad didn’t bother to turn from where he stood in the doorway, simply expecting his command to be carried out.

I stood up again and held out my hand, determined to maintain my composure. I wouldn’t give either of my parents the satisfaction of knowing anything about how I was feeling or thinking unless I chose to. Besides, if offering general courtesies would help me catch them off guard, so much the better.

We exchanged the usual pleasantries about health and weather until Millie brought in two glasses of sweet tea and left again. The moment she was out of sight, Dad crossed one leg over the other and gave me a smug smile.

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