Page 18 of Never the Best

I arched an eyebrow. “I doubt that. He’s marrying Miss Josie Vance.”

Sage laughed without humor. “I tried to tell him that he was entering the same kind of marriage I had—maybe less violent. That he’d eventually end up divorced like me or live unhappily until death did them part.”

“Sage, what do you want to say to me?” I rose then. I wasn’t here to be drawn into chit-chat about Rhett and Josie. I didn’t want to bethatwoman who gossiped and wished ill on others.

“That I’m sorry. That what I did was wrong, horrible. That I’m a better person now, and I’m working to be even more so.”

I nodded. “I’m happy for you, Sage.”

She licked her lips, waiting for me to say the words I knew she wanted to hear.

“Thank you for being honest with me,” I continued, “and because you have been so candid, so will I. Your apology does nothing to change my life—it doesn’t amend what I was put through as a young woman and how it has defined my life in some very ugly ways. If you’re expecting forgiveness from me, it’s not coming. I can’t forgive you, not because I’m carrying hate or anger for you, but because I can’t condone what you did. You talk like you were oh so young and foolish, but Sage, we’re both the same age. I never hurt you or anyone else on purpose, but all of you did whatyou did, maliciously and with the intent to harm me. So, I’m glad you’re working on yourself, but you’ll have to continue to do so without my involvement.”

Sage nodded as if she understood, shame written over her face. “I understand. I…I hope we can be friends…or friendly.”

I shook my head. “We can be acquaintances,” I offered.

“I’ll take it.” She got up then, and nodded at me. “Thank you for hearing me out, Pearl. That was generous of you.”

I felt like a petty bitch for not forgiving her and saying, “Hey, it’s okay, it’s in the past.” But that would be a lie, and I wouldn’t, couldn’t say it. I had to be honest with myself, and pretending like what was done to me was no big deal was not good for my mental health, which, since I came back to Savannah, was hanging by a thread.

CHAPTER 7

Rhett

"Lunch?" I asked Pearl as we walked out of a conference room at Savannah Lace.

I didn't really need to attend this meeting. I had an efficient team that could handle a project this size. However, I decided to take it on, which surprised some of my team members. They assumed it was because of my Aunt Hattie's closeness to Nina Davenport.

The truth was more straightforward. I was hoping and praying for a chance to apologize, truly this time, to Pearl. She'd never forgive me, I knew that, and I didn't deserve it either, but she needed to know that I'd been wrong, so very wrong. She needed to know that the flawed person, in our sordid history, was me, not her. And, I needed her to know that I wasn'tthatboy any longer, that I had become a decent man.

After Sage told me how her conversation with Pearl went, it was evident to me that the past preyed on Pearl as itdid me. If I could in any way reduce that burden for her, I would.

But what will you do if she needs you to stay away from her?I didn’t have an answer to that question, so I stayed on course.

Before Pearl could reply to my lunch requestandmost probably turn me down, I heard Nina Davenport, the CEO of Savannah Lace, say from behind me, "She can't, I'm afraid. There’s a finance team lunch meeting, but I'd love to go with you."

I didn't miss the grateful look Pearl threw Nina's way.

How the hell was I going to make this right if I didn't get an opportunity to talk to Pearl? Apparently, no one gave a flying fuck, and I got it. The need to apologize was mine, and as always, I was pushing with asingle-minded focus on whatIneeded. Perhaps Pearl didn't need me bugging her.Butif only she'd give me some time, so I could….

"Where should we go?" Nina asked.

She was an imposing woman—tall, with sharp features softened just slightly by an elegant sweep of dark hair. Everything about her radiated control, from the tailored navy pantsuit she wore to the deliberate, measured way she spoke. Nina Davenport was Savannah, through and through—polished, commanding, and rooted in tradition, but smart enough to bend with the times.

"The Collins Quarter?" I suggested an eatery I’d been to a handful of times. It had a central location and a professional vibe. It was only a short walk from Savannah Lace, tucked along Bull Street.

Nina nodded. “Perfect. I’m in the mood for their smashed avocado toast, which is always en pointe.”

As we walked, I glanced back over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of Pearl. Nina noticed out of the corner of her eye, but if she had an opinion, she didn’t voice it. Instead, she strode ahead with confidence, knowing I’d follow.

The Collins Quarter was just busy enough to feel alive without being chaotic. The hum of conversation blended with soft jazz playing from overhead speakers, and spring sunlight poured in through tall windows, spreading warm shadowy patches across the polished wood floors. The smell of fresh coffee and herbs lingered in the air as servers in crisp white shirts moved efficiently between tables.

We were seated by the window. The server handed us menus, but I already knew what I was ordering—grilled chicken salad with lemon vinaigrette. Nina glanced at the menu briefly before closing it neatly and placing it on the edge of the table.

“Smashed avocado toast,” she told the waiter. “Add a poached egg, please.”

The waiter nodded and looked at me expectantly.

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