Page 141 of Square Deal

I sighed and pushed my plate away. I didn’t want company. I wanted to sleep for another twelve hours before I had to put on my game face and go back to work tomorrow. Back to the place we hooked up after Maddie and Luca’s wedding.

Champagne no longer tasted like celebrations and happy memories. It tasted like Isaac Lawson.

It would be easier to sell my house and move out of the state than to try and erase Isaac from Beaufort. He never said it in so many words, but I knew he didn’t really like it here. Still, he left his mark.

We didn’t have the amenities of a big city. Hell, we didn’t even have a Target. He looked at Jokers like it was a dirty redneck honky-tonk. He never showed an interest in getting acquainted with the coast. It was always: land his private jet at the airstrip, crash at my house, sex, and eat. Wash, rinse, repeat.

I loved Beaufort with all my heart. Before he took a wrecking ball to things, I seriously contemplated how I would feel about moving away. It wasn’t my first choice, but wasn’t making sacrifices a rather compulsory part of loving someone?

“Hannah Jane Hayes,” Maddie said, waving her hand in front of my face.

“Sorry,” I said, easing off the barstool. “I really appreciate y’all coming over and doing all this, but I think I’m just gonna get a good night’s sleep.”

Mel raised an eyebrow. “I will pin you down and shove that food down your throat myself. Sit. Eat.”

Out of everyone, I had no doubts that Mel would do it. She was all muscle mixed with a unique brand of ornery military brat.

“Y’all, I’m just… I need time, okay? I’ll be fine. I won’t slack off on hygiene again. I promise.”

Bridget, Mel, and Maddie looked at each other and pondered my offer. I felt like I was waiting for a jury to hand down a decision.

Mel shook her head. “Nope. The plan stays as is. You’re gonna eat your damn supper, and you’re gonna like it.”

I knew there was no room for arguing. “Yes, ma’am,” I mumbled, shoving a bite of chicken and pastry into my mouth.

Bridget gave me a patronizing pat on the head. “Good girl. Now eat up, and you’ll get a reward.”

God, I hoped it was alcohol.

My reward wasn’t alcohol.

Melissa grabbed the pillows from the guest room and the four of us piled into my bed to watchThe Devil Wears Prada.If anything could make me feel better, it was Stanley Tucci and Meryl Streep.

There was a knock at the door as soon as the movie came on. I was about to pitch a fit, but Maddie said it was for her and ran downstairs. She was only gone a minute, but I heard the muffled sound of a conversation with Luca.

When she came back upstairs, I raised a curious eyebrow.Maddie crawled under the covers with us and passed the popcorn. “He’s going out of town.” The explanation was suspiciously short.

“I thought you said he wasn’t leaving to go to Texas for a few more days?” I asked.

Maddie tossed a kernel of popcorn into her mouth. “Last minute trip to New York.”

The movie started, but as much as I loved watching Ann Hathaway’s glow-up, I couldn’t focus. “You wanna stay over here tonight?” I whispered to Bee. I didn’t know where things stood with Kyle Kingsley. One minute she was asking to crash at my place because she needed some space, and the next, they were back together.

She shook her head and tapped her phone. The screen was full of text messages from him. She flipped it upside down. “Nah, Kyle’s gonna pick me up in a little bit. Thanks, though.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

She nodded and grabbed a handful of popcorn.Okay, then.

I never understood why people painted Miranda Priestly as the devil. Just because she was an accomplished, driven woman with high expectations didn’t make her a bitch. Put a man in a suit in her position, and people will call him a tycoon. They’ll never say he’s beingdifficultorhas unrealistic expectations.

I was no Miranda Priestly, but I had been called a bitch more than a few times—usually by new hires with poor work ethics. I just let it roll off my back.

What I couldn’t shake was the way Isaac watched me when I dropped by the inn to double-check floor plans and lay out a place setting. The way he let me use him as a footrest while I put together event binders and day-of event timelines for each one of my couples. He would sit on the couch with me, pull my legs across his lap, and work quietly on his tablet while I double-checked rental invoices.

Isaac never asked me to be anything other than Hell YesMa’am. I hated and loved him for it. It would have been easier to let him go if he didn’t love me for who I was—flaws and all.

All my life, I had been told I was too much. That I needed to be realistic and stop expecting so damn much of everyone around me. That I’d be single for the rest of my life if I didn’t get real and stop waiting for prince charming and his white horse to ride up.

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