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“Wallace, this is ridiculous. A morality clause? That’s fucking ironic considering what he’s trying to force us into.”
He shoves his hands into his pockets and scrapes the dirt with his toe. “Glenn’s done his due diligence. He’s had a lawyer look at it, and he’s really sure that he can win a case. The vagueness and all the loopholes don’t work in our favor. And he’d probably just drag it out until we wanted to settle it anyway.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “I thought he was my friend. I thought we were all friends, but I don’t know if I want to be friends with someone who would do this. Do you?”
He flinches. “It’s not as simple as that. He’s my best friend, and he’s been going through some shit. That’s not mine to share, but it hasn’t been easy for him. This has given him a distraction. It’s almost held him together. I’m not saying that it’s right or healthy, but it’s better than some other things he could have turned to. So I’m glad for that.”
I take a second to breathe. Things are never what they seem, and if what he’s saying is true, at least Glenn’s behavior makes a little more sense. But that still doesn’t make the sting of betrayal hurt less. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t know things were bad.”
“Well,” Wallace says, “you haven’t exactly been here. You’re right, we do talk, but you know as well as I do that it’s not the same. And that’s fine, we all made our choices. But just like we can’t expect you to be the same person you were then, Angler,” he throws me a small smile, “don’t expect us to be the same either.”
“Fair enough.”
“Besides,” he says, “there’s always the big loophole.”
“Which is?”
He laughs. “You don’t have to go through with it if you’re married.”
“Great,” I say. “I’ll get right on that. I’ll make someone fall in love with me in two weeks and take her to Vegas.” There’s the whisper of my mind of Annabelle and that kiss, but that’s impossible. She’ll never say yes. Not after everything. But if it could…
“The contract never said that you had to be in love,” Wallace says. “Find someone to marry you, and get an annulment later.”
It’s not the worst idea, but I can’t ignore the clench in my gut that rejects it. I always imagined that when I got married, it would be with someone that I couldn’t be without. It would be forever, not to get out of being blackmailed for my own company.
“Well thanks,” I say. “I’ll see you in a few days, I’m sure. After I take care of a few things.”
“I hope so,” he says. “And I’ll try to get Glenn to come around a little. I know it’s twisted, but I do think that he’s coming from a place that he feels is genuine. I just need to get him to see that he’s in the wrong.”
I nod. I’m not going to say anything about that. It’s possible that I’ll feel different after I’ve slept, but I find it difficult to imagine us recovering from that. My business partner and friend turning on me, the first time I see him personally in years and immediately he threatens me? Not exactly a good homecoming.
I cross the gravel and slide back into my car, taking a moment to breathe. Fuck. Fucking shit.
It’s not even about the money. I mean, it is and it’s not. I have enough money now that I’d be set for a long time, if not forever. The label is in the black, and I could always start something else. It’s not that.
It’s that this stupid fucking pledge already ruined my life once. It’s the whole reason that I lost Annabelle. That, and me being a fucking idiot. I thought that I’d left all that behind me. It’s the reason that I moved to Nashville and haven’t really come back. So for that to be my greeting back into this world, it feels like an omen and not a good one.
Now I’m drowning in memories and I don’t want to be. All of the times I spent with Anna and how I wanted her more than I wanted to breathe. The pain on her face when she realized what I had done—or what I had planned to do. The pain in my chest when she left and I couldn’t breathe anymore. Fuck.
I start the car and make my way back to my hotel. I can’t think about this. I don’t want to think about any of this. It’s overwhelming and makes me sick to my stomach. I can honestly say that I have no idea what the fuck I’m going to do. I don’t want to fuck thirty women in thirty days. I don’t want to be sued, publicly, for not doing that either. I don’t want to be dragged through the mud in a farce of upholding morality, and I don’t want to lose a company that I’ve worked hard to build for a promise I made when I was seventeen because I was dumb and horny.
