Page 12 of The Bourbon Bride

I push my chair back from the table and stand on wobbly legs.

“You’re all crazy if you thought I would go along with this.” I turn my back on the madness that just occurred and walk out of the dining room.

“Paige, get back here!” Mama commands at my retreating back. I hear her own chair pushed back, but I don’t turn around.

My steps don’t falter as I pass through the house, grabbing my purse and coat from the hall closet before continuing out the front door. My pace quickens as I get closer to the freedom of open air and I run down the last few stone steps and along the path that leads to the carriage house, which serves as the garage. I’m too stunned to have a rational thought other than to get out while I can. Unfortunately, Mama picked me up earlier so my car is at my apartment and I’m left with only one option to get my butt out of here now.

“Everyone in this house has gone cuckoo and I want nothing to do with it,” I say to the silent cars in the garage.

I pull the keys to the AC Cobra out of the drawer of the workbench along the wall and walk to the small, dark blue convertible with white racing stripes, my twenty-first birthday present that I received last August. I hop in, buckle up, and hit the garage door opener as I turn the key in the ignition. The roar of the V8 engine coming to life matches the furious thoughts swirling through my head.

“There is no way I’m marrying Garrison Daniels, would-be rapist, and all-around garbage human being,” I hiss angrily, my hands strangling the polished wood steering wheel as I floor the gas and shoot out of the garage. A spray of gravel flies from the tires when I hit the long driveway and point toward the road that’ll take me away from this house and the strangers inside who took the place of people I thought I knew and trusted. Mama and Daddy have lost their minds.

I drive aimlessly in an angry haze with the mild early December air whipping my hair around my head in a frenzy. It’s just cold enough to be invigorating and remove my thoughts from the haze within blocks. Instead of dazed, I’m just furious. Halfway to my apartment, I slow my fuel fest and start to think about what will happen next. It’s likely my parents, or at least Mama, will chase me down and hope to convince me that they know best when it comes to my future. She’s been that way my whole life.Because I said sowas repeated so often, I stopped asking her why years ago.

I shudder in disgust. How can either of them insist on this pairing with at least Mama knowing our history? I should have told Daddy all those years ago. Maybe he would be on my side or have stopped this from ever happening and blindsiding me.

Maybe I really am just a way to strengthen the businesses for them. It’s an antiquated notion, but the only time the Fairchilds have differentiated their business holdings is indeed through convenient and profitable marriages. Mama and Daddy are the most recent example, but it goes back generations. Could they think this is their only option now that they want to expand the agricultural legacy that comes through Mama?

Mr. Daniels seems to expect a piece of the Fairchild empire in exchange for helping the agriculture legacy with the little bit he added in about an investment. How will this affect the Xenios Group? There are more questions than answers spinning in my brain, but I know there are plenty of ways they could go about this that won’t require my participation in a sham marriage. They may have to pay a pretty penny to acquire an existing manufacturing plant or come up with a plan from scratch, but it’s feasible. Even my rational thoughts get swept away in the rushing air around me as I focus on the insanity that is my life, and the dinner I just fled.

Where can I go that they won’t find me? Not to my apartment. My next thought is to Alex’s but he’s left for New York, and I can’t go to the Whitakers’ house because that is the first place Mama would go to hunt me down when she starts her search. It’s better to keep them out of it, anyway. I’ll have to call to explain why Mama will inevitably harass Mrs. Whitaker for information on me. I have very few friends and even fewer options, it seems.

I drive aimlessly along the dark Savannah River sparkling with the reflection of the streetlights before turning inland when it becomes obvious I can’t exactly run from my problems here in Savannah. It’s too small, too familiar, and too easy for Mama to know exactly where to find me.

I turn down a dark street, pull over, and finally look up, shocked to find myself across the street from The Abyss, which is dark and the street empty, probably because it’s closed on Sundays. I must have driven here without realizing it. At least I’m across town from Mama and Daddy’s house, in the opposite direction of my apartment, and far enough from The Mansion that I’ve removed any possibilities of running into them should they come for me. I park on the street and sit with my hands still gripping the steering wheel. With the engine off, I can hear my phone vibrating from my bag on the seat next to me and I grudgingly fish it out. Of course, it’s lit up with notifications and missed calls from Mama. I quickly text Alex.

Paige: My parents are crazy fools who want to marry me off to, get this, Garrison Daniels *vomit*. I’m in hiding after fleeing Sunday dinner, but you might wanna let your folks know Mama will be on a warpath and she’ll start with them in her crusade to get me to bend the knee if I know her at all.

A few moments pass before a message from Alex vibrates the phone I’m tightly clutching.

Alex: *whistles* She’s lost it. I knew she was on the edge, but she’s the queen of crazy town, now. I’ll let my mama and daddy know, but don’t you worry. ?? The Whitakers have your back and my mom knows to protect your privacy after all these years of fielding off your mama’s insanity.

Paige: You’re my favorite, and I owe your parents something really nice for Hanukkah. I wish I could squeeze you one more time. I hope New York knows what a special person they have in their hands.

Alex: Roger that, Miss Debutante. You’ll have to come to visit after the holidays. Maybe New Year’s Eve? I think you need a vacation from the South and everything your parents have planned. Sending you hugs and strength. Don’t let her win!

My eyes burn as I turn off my phone and bury it deeper into my bag. I wish I could hide out with Alex like I used to in high school when Mama was on a tear. I look around the deserted street in bewilderment. Now what do I do?

I look up at the tall stone building that houses The Abyss to the glass greenhouse of Elysium.Hayes. The name whispers through my mind seductively, and I want to bat it away like an annoying mosquito.

He is nothing more to me than a brief acquaintance I may have a raging bourbon crush on. He doesn’t owe me sanctuary as I once again run away from something I don’t like. He’s probably back in Atlanta, anyway.

God, what would I even say if he was in residence at The Abyss?Hi, can you hide me from my parents and the arranged marriage they think is a good idea?I laugh bitterly at my thoughts and feel wetness creep into my eyes. I brush away the moisture, refusing to cry over this.

“Paige?”

I jump at the unexpected voice and turn to look over the passenger seat. The Cobra is an open convertible, so I have no shelter to hide from someone who knows me and will inevitably report back to Mama.

“Hayes?” I squeak.

Did I seriously just conjure the man with a thought? If I’m that good at manifesting, how did I end up in this crazy situation with my family wanting to marry me off to freakingGarrison Danielsof all people?

“What are you doing here?”

I look at his sweaty T-shirt and the running shorts he’s wearing—they are short enough to see his beautiful, massive thighs—and deduce exactly what he was doing and also the absurdity of my question when I’m the one sitting outside of his nightclub.

“I thought you would have gone back to Atlanta,” I say in explanation for my dumb question. I press my fingers to my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut. This is so stupid.

---