Page 4 of The Bourbon Bargain

Now, pride keeps me from reaching out, especially knowing the mess that the South thinks of me. The Fairchild name is being dragged through the mud and my reputation is the lowest it’s ever been, all because people make assumptions about a situation they have no business discussing. This is between Hayes and me. But… isn’t he the one who needs to reach out? If he wanted to make things right, he could have just come after me at The Abyss and fought for us. He chose not to do that and here we are, separated for nearly as long as we were together.

When I’m cried out and done feeling sorry for myself, I stand and let my hands drag over the large leaves of the bushes to my sides as I walk aimlessly through the interior of the park. Rationally, I know I had every right to be upset that he wouldn’t have included me in such an important, life-altering decision that one hundred percent affects me. And if he had his head too clouded with business wheeling and dealing to see that, it’s his loss.

Being in the right doesn’t make it any easier to weather this storm. Hayes became all-consuming for the short amount of time he was a fixture in my life, and it absolutely sucks to be without him now. I hate the part of me that wants to call him, or even drive to Atlanta and beg him to take me back like I was in the wrong, but it’s undeniable that I miss Hayes. His warmth, his big arms that make me feel so safe and protected when I’m in them, the way he could look at me and I knew I was treasured. I especially miss his demon spawn dog and even Hayes’s devilish ways.

So much can change in a matter of weeks, and I’m discovering that in some cases, those changes are indelible. Like my heart. It was whole and untarnished a few weeks ago, but now it’s cracked and there isn’t anything that can fix the Hayes-shaped hole that’s left behind.

A snapping twig catches my attention and I freeze mid-stride. I slowly set my foot down and turn to look around me. I don’t see anyone in particular, so it could have been a squirrel or bird that made the noise. I resume my walk, but my steps are a little quicker and I head toward the pathways that crisscross through the park so I feel less alone.

Being this angry is also an isolating experience. I’m lonely. I’ve refused to speak to my parents right along with Hayes. I’ve come to expect ruthless dealings from Mama, but Daddy selling the hotels without even consulting me showed a new side of his own calculation. It all comes down to money, and I’m beginning to see that it really is the root of all evil. Even if it can make you happy in a materialistic way, it can just as easily destroy you.

A few people are walking through the park when I reach the paths, and I keep my head down to avoid making eye contact with any of them as we pass. I feel my shoulder bumped and I look up to catch the eye of a man in dark clothing as he brushes past me. I mumble an apology and shiver, hugging my arms around my body as I continue walking toward home.

Despite all that she did, I find myself wanting to call Mama and ask for her to take over again. Maybe things would go back to normal, even if my normal has had a seismic shift from what I was used to. I pull my cell out of my back pocket and stare at the screen, debating if I have it in me to do it. With a big sigh, I swipe the screen open and have the phone dialing before I can overthink one more thing. I don’t have to force myself to be lonely and sit in my pain all by myself. I do have people in my life who care about me, even if they are few and far between.

“Hey, sorry to call you out of the blue,” I say, pressing my free hand against my eyes. “I guess I just need someone right now who gets me.”

three

Hayes

Ican’tfindmywife.

I’ve searched all over Savannah and can’t seem to locate where she has gone to ground. All I want to do is have my chance to grovel, but I can’t even get on my knees if I can’t find her. I’ve had my assistant scouring everywhere and providing addresses where she might be, but my list is exhausted.

Except for her parent’s house, where I’m currently haunting the doorstep of the large, covered porch that spans the entire front of their historic home. It’s not as grand as The Mansion that they just sold to me, but it’s stately and fitting for a family like the Fairchilds.

I run a hand through my hair and mount the steps that take me to the large front door. If there is a God, I hope he’s merciful, because I’m about to step into the lion’s den and I am not prepared. This is not like a business deal. It’s rather like facing an executioner on their day off, and I have just the head they want to chop off.

I ring the doorbell and listen to the chiming sound it makes through the door, hoping they aren’t here and I can check another stop off on my list to find Paige. Instead, I see a shadow approaching through the sidelight and know I couldn’t get that lucky.

“Well, if it isn’t Mr. High and Mighty come to darken my doorstep. I’d say it’s a pleasure, but I’d be lying.” Caroline Thackery Fairchild minces no words in her displeasure at seeing me. She doesn’t even give me the niceties one would expect from her social standing.

“Ma’am,” I say, inclining my head in her direction and trying to keep my temper from rising through proper Southern manners alone, even if she won’t. “Is Paige here?” I feel like a high school boy coming to pick up a prom date and facing down the dragon lady of a mother she has instead.

Caroline’s mouth pinches and her green eyes which are so much like Paige’s stare daggers at me. “Why would I tell you that? You’re the worst thing to happen to this family since the Civil War.”

“I beg your pardon,” I sputter, knowing full well it’s futile to fight with her, but I’m notthatbad. “I just want to talk to Paige. I have a lot I need to tell her, and she won’t answer my calls or texts. And she isn’t anywhere I can find her in Savannah.”

“Well, she’s not here and I’m glad she’s not giving you the time of day. You don’t deserve my daughter and never will,” she seethes, her hand white-knuckled around the edge of the door.

“Caroline—Mrs. Fairchild, I love Paige very much,” I hold up a hand to stop her quick retort, “despite what my business dealings may look like to you. I know I messed up, and I just want to work through it with her, which is damn hard to do when I can’t even find her to fight for her.”

Caroline seems to defrost the tiniest bit, her pinched mouth smoothing and her eyes beginning to lose some of the zeal they had a moment before. “That filthy Atlanta gossip site had something to say about Paige again today. Another mark against you, for bringing her onto their radar and making her a target for all of Georgia to pick apart.” I definitely haven’t won her over, but that one admission points me in a new direction I can potentially use to find Paige.

“I appreciate you telling me that.” I take a step away from the door, ready to turn and book it down the steps to the drive. I shake my head and turn back before I make it to the driveway. “She has me bent out of shape and head over heels,” I say, staring at the wide porch beneath my leather Ferragamos. “I wouldn’t be looking for her if I wasn’t completely in love with her and wanting to ensure our future together.”

“You’re a calculating devil, and I don’t believe a word you say,” she replies, though the tone has cooled from her initial fire.

“You don’t have to believe my words, I’ll show you,” I say as I turn and take the steps two at a time.

four

The Atlanta Haute List

Spotted:SavannahHeiressCatchingFlights, Not Feelings

Paige Fairchild, former hotel heiress and newly minted wife of Olympic International CFO Hayes Olsen, was seen boarding a commercial flight from Savannah to JFK, sans billionaire bridegroom. What, no private jet for the brand-new bride? We smell trouble in paradise. Time apart is quickly outpacing the time together column on this business deal, and we are more than wondering if our favorite billionaire brother will end up back on the market as Atlanta’s most eligible bachelor. The whirlwind romance of Fairchild and Olsen did seem too good to be true, but even our Grinch hearts wanted to see them have their own Hallmark Christmas movie moment. Too soon to tell, or has the ink dried on an annulment? Click Like and Subscribe for all the Haute gossip.

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