Page 34 of The Bourbon Bargain

“Like the lengths you went to so you could hand her over on a platter to the rapist son of complicit business associates to gain access to their technology? She could definitely have picked worse, and you know it. How’s the integration going down at Thackery Agriculture now that you have all of Daniels Industries at your disposal, anyway?”

Mama turns a shade of red that borders on purple, and it takes her a moment to calm herself enough to speak. “We will not talk about that unfortunate matter. It is behind us.”

Daddy chuckles darkly over the rim of his coffee cup, forever the quiet observer of Mama’s constant action, though he’s been cooler toward her this morning. “He got you there, Caroline. That Daniels boy was a creep, and you knew it all along. We could spend hours just unpacking that littlegemof information you kept from me for so many years, but I fear now is simply not the time. Later, my darling wife,“ he says in a harsh tone that is devoid of the genial warmth he usually carries when dealing with Mama.

My eyes widen at the unusual interaction between them. Judging by his comment and tone, he is very unhappy with her choice to keep certain things from him, and he’s not hiding it anymore. At least not in front of us. He was civil and in host mode at the Christmas Eve Dinner, and nothing in their interactions made me think they were disagreeing at all. It makes me wonder what is happening out of the public eye, and if their marriage can withstand it. Knowing all that they have weathered together over the years, and still managed to keep a united front, I am mostly confident that they will get past this also, though it may irrevocably change their relationship.

Mama’s cheeks remain rosy and her lips are flattened into a harsh line that tells me more than she will herself. This is an ongoing argument, then, and they are at a stalemate on how to proceed past it.

Daddy sets his cup down and turns to Hayes. “We’re renaming the company, as you suggested, and working on the integration plan now. We will likely be rolling out the processes starting in another week or two. It was a splendid gift and has given me something to do now that my job at the Xenios Group will become arbitrary in the new year.”

“I want to have our ceremony in the Elysium Garden, with a small group of family and friends, only. You can plan the reception and make it whatever you’d like,” I blurt into the lull of conversation, looking to take the topic away from Garrison Daniels and what I narrowly escaped by taking my fate into my own hands.

“There’s not enough room in the garden, Paige! We have three hundred people on the guestlist without Hayes’s side to consider, and at least half will expect to be at the ceremony,” Mama cries, almost rising from her seat at the injustice of having her carefully crafted plans upended by my simple request.

“My wife has spoken. If you want to have this lovely wedding at all, the ceremony will be at the Abyss, and Paige and I will be in charge of the guestlist and plan for what she wants to see happen. If you want four hundred people at the most absurd reception you can muster, by all means, make it happen.” Hayes’s tone is firm, leaving no room for discussion otherwise.

“Who wants more biscuits?” I ask to the stunned silence that descends on the table.

twenty

Hayes

ItwastortureleavingPaige alone to deal with her mother’s insane schedule and planning while I went to The Abyss to work from my office here in Savannah. Despite most of the company having the week between Christmas and New Year’s off, I still have plenty of catching up to do. Diego emailed me a new update on the South African mines, the lawsuit, and what they have dug up on Octavius Rex and his possible connection to the New York law firm that brought the suit against Olympus and my brothers. It’s not a clear connection, and that bothers me. I thought for sure it had to be backed by Rex, as he’s the one with the most to gain from our downfall. I spend the majority of my morning piecing together a plan to get through this situation but there is another matter that needs to be addressed. One I had better get on sooner, rather than later.

I pick up my phone and dial a number that doesn’t get used much.

“Well, look who it is, calling the dayafterChristmas,“ the deep voice on the line says by way of greeting.

I smile. “You’re lucky I called you at all, old man,” I reply.

“Let me get your mother, she’ll want to give you the dressing down you deserve,” Thatcher Olsen says with a chuckle. I listen to the sounds of my father moving through their house overlooking the Chattahoochee River that flows through their small town of Helen, Georgia.

“Hayes, you old hound dog! How dare you not tell us you got married. I deserve a chance to meet any girl you bring into the familybeforeshe’s in the family way, so when do I get to see you and this lovely new wife of yours?” Rula Mae Olsen is not one for subtleties, and she’s ready to get down to the matter at the first opportunity.

“Hi Mother, it’s nice to talk to you, too,” I reply with all the patience expected of me.

“Tell him we’ve been hearing all about his romance with the heiress girl thanks to Virginia Coombes and Lotte Smithson.” I hear through the line from my father, who must be sitting next to Mom.

“You remember Lotte and Virginia—“

“I heard him, Mom, you don’t have to repeat everything. Just put the phone on speaker and you can both talk.” My parents are not even sixty-five, but you would think they were geriatric with how they despise using modern technology and all of its conveniences. Speakerphone should be a breeze since they take calls together all the time.

“Is this how you do it,” I hear Mom say faintly before I can hear Dad clearly.

“Just that button there, that should work,” he says.

“So, when do we get to meet this hotel heiress girl?” Mom asks again.

“Her name is Paige and she’s not a girl, she’s twenty-one,” I explain, knowing it will do little good.

“She’s an infant if anything. You are too old for that girl, but what good is it for me to tell you now that you’ve gone and gotten yourself hitched to her,” Mom complains. “She’s real pretty, Hayes. Virginia showed me the photos of her that the gossip site posted a while back. Y’all look really good together. I can’t wait to meet her in person.”

“Well, that’s why I’m calling. We’re having a wedding ceremony and reception in Savannah next weekend. Will you be able to attend? It’s New Year’s Eve and I know the town does some pretty exciting parties that night,” I drawl, knowing full well Helen is busiest in the summer when tourists descend on the Bavarian-themed town to tube the river and bask in the outdoor attractions. Why my parents retired there is still a mystery to me, as they don’t like tubing or being outdoors more than necessary. We were raised in Atlanta, so the tiny mountain town is a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the city, but that’s likely why Mom loves it.

“Of course, we will be there. We wouldn’t miss it,” Mom proclaims loudly, and I hold the phone away from my ear. “Savannah is a cute little place; it’ll be nice to get down there again.”

I hear my dad grumble and wonder what he could be up to that would be more important than the wedding of his eldest son.

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