Southern Gentleman (Charleston Heat 3)

I let out a breath. “Thank God. Help me, Ford. Please.”

“Work has always been important to you. But why do you think it became your life after your divorce?” he asks.

“Because,” I say, searching for the right words. “For one thing, I didn’t have a personal life anymore. I had no one to go home to. For another, Rebecca passed. I wanted to provide for you and the baby so you were able to take the time and space you needed to grieve. I wanted you to be there for your daughter. So I stepped up to the plate and covered for us both. I took over. Once I was in at the firm, I was in. Doesn’t hurt that I like the work, and that I’ve gotten really fucking good at it. Being there kept me busy. Kept me distracted.”

“Keep digging.”

I shoot him an annoyed glance.

“Okay. I guess I also wanted to…” I swallow. “Give back to y’all. You and Bryce and Mom and Dad. After the hell I put you through with my divorce.”

“So you were trying to earn something by working like you did.”

“I guess, yeah. Earn y’all’s forgiveness. Show y’all I cared. Maybe punish myself a little, too. I felt such shame…I mean, in my mind, I didn’t deserve another shot at a happy life. I broke Cameron’s heart, and I broke Mom and Dad’s, too. You know how much they adored her. I couldn’t give them the daughter-in-law or grandchildren they always wanted. But I could crush it at work. I could give back that way. So that’s what I did.”

Ford’s brows jump. “Aha. There it is.”

“How much Dr. Phil have you watched since you started working part-time?”

“I’m telling you, Oprah’s Super Soul Sunday podcast is life changing. I know you’ve opened up a lot since you’ve been with Julia. A lot lot. You’re smiling. You’re not smoking. Well. You weren’t smoking until tonight. You’re wearing inappropriately tight pants. Grey, those are mostly good things. I would say you’ve completely transformed. Only you haven’t.” He touches the heel of his glass to mine. His voice softens. “I think you’re still hanging on to this last shred of that misbelief that you can’t be loved just as you are. You still think you have to earn love. Work for it. Because you’ve fucked up so bad that’s the only way you’re going to get it.”

I slurp the rest of my liquor. It does nothing to clear the blur in my eyes.

He’s right.

Damn my brother, he knows what he’s talking about.

“Forgive yourself for everything. All of it. Julia’s already gotten you ninety percent of the way there. But you have to go that extra ten percent, or you’re going to lose everything that’s good in your life right now.”

“Makes sense,” I say.

“You think you have to buy Julia and the baby this enormous house—splash out tons of money—to be the kind of partner she’s looking for. When really she just wants you to go shopping with her. Spend time with her. Be there. You’re doing the right thing by anticipating her needs. But I think you’re just mixing up what she needs with what you think you need to provide.”

“But how do I do that?” I say, pouring myself more whiskey. “How can I spend time with her when I have so little of it to begin with? Money—I have a lot of that. But time?”

Ford turns to face me, resting his elbow on the counter. “I say this lovingly. But you do that by letting me step back up at Montgomery Partners, you big idiot. Just like I’ve been asking to do for the past six months. Why do you think I was ordering all those new suits from Brumley’s? You let me take the reins so you can take a step back. It’s your turn to focus on things outside of work. You know I’m capable. Bryce is older and more self-sufficient. I’ve got great childcare lined up, and Mom’s already offered to help when I need to travel. It’s done.”

I blink. But that’s too simple. Too easy.

It makes too much sense.

“But—”

“But nothing. You’re forgiven, Grey. We’ve all forgiven you for what happened. The only person who hasn’t forgiven you—not fully—is you. So forgive yourself. For real. Let me be a full-time employee again. And then go get your girl back. I don’t know how she does it, but she puts up with you. She loves you for you. She sees you—the real you—and hasn’t run. Yet. That’s something worth fighting for.”

I lift a hand to my face and wipe at my eyes with the back of my first knuckle.

“It can’t be that simple.”

“It is, though. No offense, the world—and Montgomery Partners—aren’t going to collapse if you’re not there to run the show.”

I run through the scenario in my head. The one where I bring Ford back up to speed so that he’s an equal partner in the business again. It won’t be easy for me to let go of some things. But yeah—if Ford could help handle snafus like the one this morning, obviously that’d be huge.