Reputation (Mason Family 2)

I sigh.

“I really thought that you being a hot-shot country music star was really going to make my life better,” Boone says, pulling my attention back to him. “But it hasn’t, and honestly, I’m a little disappointed.”

I burst out laughing. “I’m sorry my life hasn’t been convenient enough for ya, Boone.”

“Me fucking too.” He winks at me. “So, what’s happening on the music front these days?”

I look at my brother like the buzzkill that he is. “Do we have to talk about that?”

He shrugs. “Nope. Of course not. Let’s talk about Bells instead.”

I roll my head on my shoulders and look at the ceiling.

There’s no use in talking about the music front, as he called it. There’s nothing I can do about it anyway.

Meadow is in control. It’s all in her hands. I’ve always settled into that idea and appreciated that I didn’t have to worry about shit.

In a strange twist of events, now her being in control is the reason I’m worried.

Fucking hell.

“I heard through the grapevine—the one named Larissa—that you and our other mutual friend, Bellamy, had a little playdate last night. Now, I don’t want the details of that because Bells is like my sister and not some fuck-a-friend like she is to you. I would appreciate a generalization of how the evening played out so that I know whether to duck when I see her again. I have to look out for myself here.”

He smiles cheekily.

“That’s what we all expect out of you, Boone,” I say with a sigh.

“At least I’m consistent. Now you, on the other hand …”

I ignore his little jab and pick up a bottle of dish soap instead. I twirl it around in my hands as I ponder my response to his inquiry.

There are a couple of things that I’ve been able to discern from this whole getting-on-the-same-page-with-Bellamy thing. One is that I cannot stop thinking about her. It’s a crazy, nearly obsessive thing, and everything that I do or say or think brings me back to her in some way.

Case in point: Mom asked me if I wanted blueberry muffins today. I immediately wondered if Bellamy found the ones that I left on the loveseat last night. Then I caught a whiff of a woman’s cologne at the gas station while on my way to the golf course. It made me think of her, too, and the scent she wears lately.

This is going to be a problem if I don’t figure out how to fix it.

“So, are you going to answer me or what?” Boone asks.

“Why couldn’t I have been really good at something in Savannah?” I ask him instead. “Like, why couldn’t I have been a good fisherman? Or a teacher? Or just a bum like you?”

He looks wounded. “You don’t hate yourself enough to be a teacher. And not just everyone can pull off a bum like me, okay? Check yourself.”

I chuckle. “That’s too bad because it would’ve been a hell of a lot easier than this.”

“What’s happening? Want to talk it out?”

I give him an odd look. “What is wrong with you?”

“I’m trying to be a good brother.”

“Well … don’t. It’s weird.”

He shrugs.

I set the soap bottle down and sigh. “Meadow is going to call me this week and, hopefully, she’ll have a contract ready to go. I’m assuming that I’ll just have a few days to make a decision. She said the new label wants a super quick turnaround too, so I’m going to have to just jump in and get to work, and I’ve been struggling creatively. I can’t be creative and pen happy shit when I want to scream.”

Boone’s legs stop swinging.

“I didn’t realize how fucked up my life was until I came back this time,” I admit.

It’s strange hearing those words topple from my lips. I never would’ve thought that I would be in this position if you’d have asked me three months ago.

But now I know it, and I’m having a hard time forgetting it.

I blow out a long, noisy breath.

“I’ve tried to place the blame on everyone else,” I say. “Meadow is at fault for the whole Willa debacle. Meadow is at the helm of my contract negotiations, and they seem to want something, or someone, maybe, other than what I’m all about. Whoever they are now. And then I come back here and this shit with Bellamy …” I look at my brother. “It’s all my fault, Boone. Every last bit of it.”

He considers this. “I doubt it’s all your fault.”

“No, it is. It’s my fault because I let it all happen. I looked away and let Meadow run wild with my career, and I accepted Bellamy pushing me away because, for all intents and purposes, I was a dick.”

“You are a dick. Always, more or less. But, playing Devil’s Advocate here, Meadow works for you. And Bellamy could’ve … not Bellamy’d this.”