“Hey, Leah Mae,” Scarlett said.
I loved how everyone here still called me by my full name, not just Leah. “Hey.”
“What’s up?” Scarlett asked, then took a drink of her beer.
I looked down at the ring on my finger. Pulled it off. “I just broke up with Kelvin.”
Scarlett coughed, spitting beer all over the floor. Cassidy patted her on the back while June watched, one eyebrow raised.
“Is Scarlett choking?” June asked.
Cassidy laughed. “No, I think Leah Mae just surprised her a bit.”
Scarlett put a hand to her chest and took a deep breath. “Did you just say you broke up with your fiancé?”
I put the ring on the table. “I did.”
“Well, holy shit,” Scarlett said. She called toward the bar over her shoulder. “Nicolette, we need some whiskey over here. We’ve got somethin’ to celebrate.”
“I’m confused,” June said. “Don’t we normally lament the end of a relationship and soothe the pain of the breakup with a lot of sympathy and sugary baked goods?”
“We do when the breakup is a bad thing,” Scarlett said.
“Okay, slow down, Miss Scarlett,” Cassidy said. She turned to me. “Are we celebrating this, or do you need the sympathy and cake?”
“I won’t say no to cake,” I said. “But I’m celebrating.”
“See?” Scarlett said, a triumphant smile on her face.
Nicolette came to our table with a tray of whiskey shots. Her dark hair was in a ponytail and she had a t-shirt that said I’ve got a good heart… but this mouth. She gave me a friendly smile as she slid the shot glasses onto our table.
I picked up the whiskey. “Ladies, I might have just ruined my career. But I was in that relationship for all the wrong reasons. And now that it’s over, I’m not sad. In fact, I feel great.”
“That’s a sign,” Scarlett said. “I’m proud of you, Leah Mae. You did the right thing.”
“Agreed,” Cassidy said.
June picked up her shot. “I have to concur.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling the prick of tears in my eyes. Not from sadness. From gratitude. The world I’d been living in for the past twelve years was so fake. Bootleg was real. These women were real. I hadn’t even realized how much I’d been missing that.
“To new beginnings. And being open to the right man.” Scarlett winked at me.
My cheeks warmed. I had a feeling I knew what she meant by that, but I wasn’t sure what to say. I tilted my head back, swallowing the whiskey. It was strong, burning my throat as it went down.
“New beginnings,” I said, putting down my glass. All I could do was smile. I’d never felt so free.
15
JAMESON
Being here was odd. I was twenty-eight years old—hadn’t lived in my dad’s house for a decade—but it still felt familiar. Smelled familiar. Walking through the door had always made my back clench. Now it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Didn’t much like being here, but there was still a lot of work to be done. Devlin had chewed us out for dumping it all on Scarlett, and he’d been right. That hadn’t been fair. We all had our own reasons for not wanting to deal with what we might find in here. But sometimes a man had to face his demons.
My brothers and Scarlett were coming over later, but I’d been up early anyway, so I’d decided to come get a head start. The air was colder inside than out. Smelled stale. We’d already done some of the cleaning out and organizing, but it looked like we’d barely made a dent. The police had left the place a mess.
Scarlett had divided up the house so we each had a section. We were supposed to box things up that were worth giving away or selling, and toss everything else. I had the kitchen to start with, and I reckoned there wasn’t going to be much worth keeping in there. It had been a long time since Mama had cooked dinner or baked pie in that kitchen.
I’d brought garbage bags and picked up some empty cardboard boxes, so I got to work. Clearing out the cupboards and drawers was easy enough. Pots, pans, and the plates and glasses that were in decent shape could all go to the thrift store. Anything chipped or broken got tossed. I worked my way through each cupboard, one at a time, either throwing things out or packing them away.