I look back at him, ready to end this conversation. “I want to live my life on my own terms.”
He coughs a laugh. “None of us are able to do that, Charles, it’s a fairytale. We all have roles to fill. It’s time you came back and took your place at your father’s side.”
“According to whom?” I’m too old to be intimidated by these people anymore. I have too much to lose now.
“Your father would never say it, but you broke his heart when you ran off less than a week after getting out of the service.”
“Robbie made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“Robbie Cole is an outlier. His mother was an artist, a hippie.” Beau shakes his head and takes another sip of his drink. “You’re not. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. We’d discussed grooming you for a place in the senate. Now that you’re a veteran, it’s practically a given.”
My brow furrows. This is news to me. It makes sense now that I think about it. Having me in a position with the government could yield all sorts of useful tax breaks and incentives for business in Charleston.
“I don’t have any interest in running for senate. Now if you’ll excuse me. It was… interesting to see you again, sir.”
I grip his elbow then make my way through the crowd to where a tall blonde is standing beside the champagne table.
Beau’s voice is just loud enough for me to hear him over the low murmur of voices and modern jazz. “Maybe Nan can talk some sense into you.”
My ex-fiancée is wearing a floor-length sand-colored gown with clear beads all over it. I’m sure my mother would say it’s blush or greige. Some made-up color. It’s times like these when Charity’s absence feels particularly acute.
She turns as if she feels me approaching and her slim brows rise. Her platinum hair is chin-length and curled in two perfect waves at her cheeks, and her lips are the color of her dress.
“I heard you were here.” She steps forward and places both hands on my chest, kissing my cheek. Nan always smells like vanilla or some type of pastry, and her tone is always like she’s telling a joke. “As tall, dark, and handsome as ever. What the hell are you doing back in Charleston?”
“Looking for you.” My voice is low and serious by contrast.
“Lucky me.” Her blue eyes narrow. “Only, I don’t think you mean what I hoped you meant.”
“Can we go somewhere to talk?”
“It’s too late to worry about setting off the gossip hounds. The moment I touched you, they all declared us back together and are now preparing for a December wedding. I’m sure my mother is picking out fur-lined bridal gowns as we speak.”
She takes a sip of champagne, and I remember why I stayed with her for as long as I did. If I were going to be forced into marriage with one of their pedigreed young ladies, at least Nan had a biting sense of humor.
“Even so.” I take her arm and lead her to the wall of French doors separating the dining room from the balcony overlooking the grounds. “I’d rather have this conversation where I’m sure no one’s listening.”
&
nbsp; “Someone’s always listening, Charles.” When we reach the low stone walls of the balcony, Nan sits, crossing a leg and looking up at me. “I thought you said you were never coming back here.”
“My mother came for a visit last weekend. She said some things that bothered me.”
Nan starts to laugh. “If I took a trip every time my mother said something that bothered me—”
“I’m sorry I left the way I did.” Her brow furrows with confusion. “I know you were probably expecting more from me, and I came back and ended it. I felt like I needed to apologize to you.”
She stands and steps closer, putting her hand in mine. “Is this why you came all the way back here? We talked about all that. We agreed it was the right thing to do. You weren’t in love with me, and Lord knows, I’d have just driven you crazy.”
Our eyes meet and hers are warm. She stretches up on her toes and kisses my cheek once more. “Oh, Chad,” she sighs. “Underneath that brooding façade and shield of brawn, you still have a soft heart.”
She lets me go and walks over to pick up her champagne flute. I watch her a moment, wanting to be sure. “And you’ve always been the sweetheart of Sigma Chi. Why aren’t you dating someone? Why would my mother say you’re waiting for me?”
Her head snaps up, eyes flashing. “Your mother said…” Just as fast she nods. “Right. Of course she said that. That’s how they’re spinning it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m afraid you’ve been pulled into the fiction of why I’m, quote, not seeing anyone, darling.” She moves her fingers in little curly motions.