Page 37 of Accidentally Hitched (Unintentionally Yours #1)

Callum

T he only thing worse than breaking the heart of the girl you were about to propose to is getting called into your dad’s office the moment you get to work.

All that being said, I know something is up if the man is calling us into his office at seven thirty in the fucking morning. And if I had to guess, it has everything to do with me.

Even as Avery and I walk down the hallway, his face is plastered with a cocky smirk. I want to slap it off his face.

“You think pops learned how to navigate social media?” he asks.

“I think you should keep your fucking mouth shut and mind your own business,” I answer.

“See that’s the funny thing about being a Hardin. One of us fucks up and we all feel the ripple in our morning coffee. I do gotta hand it to you though, you’re not as straight and narrow as I thought. I’m almost impressed. Almost.”

I shove the door to our dad’s office open and march inside ready to get whatever this is over with.

“Anyone else coming or is this just a family affair?” Avery asks coyly.

“Shut the door, son,” Hiram says. He’s sitting at his desk, and he looks like hell. Tired. Thinner than usual. I’m concerned but I know better than to bring it up. Whatever is going on with his health doesn’t change the fact that Hardin men are proud. If he’s going down, he’ll go down swinging.

Avery walks over to a leather chair and plops down in it, leaning back and making himself comfortable. I stay standing, leaning against the bookcase, arms crossed.

“I might be old,” he starts in.

“We hadn’t noticed,” Avery interrupts.

“Shut up for once in your goddamn life,” my dad growls and Avery listens. “I might be old. But I’m not stupid. I know how to read the news. Gossip and all.”

Here we go.

His eyes drag over to me, but I don’t say anything.

“I don’t know dad,” Avery says, crossing his legs. “Maybe it’s best not to believe everything you read. Even if what you’re reading is pretty bad.”

“Oh, trust me, I would love to believe that none of it is true. Because right now, we are a joke. One of my sons got married after supposedly participating in a reverse auction in Vegas,”

Double fuck.

“I’m sorry, what?” Avery sits up and looks back at me. I keep my eyes on my dad who is turning paler by the second as he goes on.

“Not only that but there are rumors Amanda is pregnant!”

Avery snorts and I am about to level him, but I don’t have to. Dad turns his attention to him. “And my other son is dating a woman who has been photographed more times than I can count flirting with other men more often than she is photographed with him!”

“We aren’t just dating. Zoe is my fiancé, remember?”

“That’s exactly my fucking point!” he barks out.

“I don’t know what you two are trying to prove but all your little stunts are soiling the family name, not to mention the brand.

Whatever your issues are with each other, you need to settle them and fast because you’re making Hardin look bad.

And when Hardin looks bad, we lose money. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” I answer. “Anything else?”

“Is she pregnant?”

Both of them are looking at me and I look at the ground, arms still crossed. “Yeah.”

“And it’s yours?” Avery asks and my head snaps up so fast I nearly give myself whiplash.

“You better fucking watch it!”

“Cool it! Both of you!” Our dad says before starting to cough. He grabs a glass of water and takes a sip. “I’m tired of looking at both of you. For once in your lives, give your old man some peace.”

I grill Avery a moment longer with my eyes before tearing my gaze away and stalking out of the office. As I make my way down the hall I can hear Avery’s footsteps behind me.

“I don’t know whether to slow clap or punch your lights out right now,” he says and against my better judgement, I turn to look at him. “You got the man worked up with those photos.”

“And your party girl fiancé had nothing to do with it? He’s right, you know. Zoe has made it very clear why she’s in this. And it ain’t love.”

Just as we approach my office, Avery grabs my shoulder and shoves it around, so I am facing him.

“Leave Zoe out of this. Dad is worked up because you got married on a whim, just like I suspected, after a heated night in Sin City. And instead of annulling the damn thing, you’re using it to gain Hardin.

We see through the act, why don’t you just admit it. You’re using her for your own gain.”

I get right in my brother’s face and plant a finger hard in his chest. “I am not using Amanda for anything. It isn’t the way it looks. It’s real.”

“Real fucked up. And what is this about an auction? Jesus, Callum. I knew you were going to loosen your tie a little in Vegas, but you actually got on a stage with a bunch of young pretty boys and made girls bid on you? I don’t know if that’s impressive or pathetic.”

“Funny you should say that because that’s the way I see your whole life.

The marriage is real, the baby is mine and soon dad will see through your bullshit and Hardin will be mine too.

Because unlike you, I care about this company.

I care about the music, not just the profit.

And whether or not he’s too tired to show it, our father once felt the same way.

And I’ll be damned if I have to watch you destroy that. Now get out of my fucking office.”

“With pleasure,” Avery steps out and I slam the door.

For a solid ten minutes, I face the floor.

I am absolutely reeling. This is the last thing I need right now.

I am fully aware of just how bad it looks.

But I also know how I feel. And I feel shitty.

Shitty for compromising things at Hardin.

Shitty for going along with Noah’s stupid antics in Vegas when I really should have just had a drink at the hotel and went to bed like I was planning.

Shitty for upsetting Amanda and reacting the way I did.

If I hadn’t paraded around that stage I wouldn’t have met Amanda that night. Obviously we would have still met but it would’ve been at work and things would most likely be different now.

I sit down at my desk with a heavy sigh and pull out my phone, dialing her number.

It rings one, two, three times and goes to voicemail.

Maybe she’s still sleeping. Maybe she’s ignoring me.

Maybe she never made it back to her apartment.

I wouldn’t know, I didn’t actually check on her after she left my house.

Maybe she didn’t go home at all. Maybe she went to her sister’s house, and her sister took her phone and lit it on fire and she’s coming for me next.

That actually seems like the most plausible reason.

I realize I am being irrational, another trait that is not typically me. I dial the number again, wanting to hear her voice. To see if she is okay. To apologize and let her know we can talk things out. Work things out. But the message goes to voicemail again. And again.

For the rest of the day, it goes like that. I call about every two hours. I go to voicemail every two hours. By the time I’m ready to clock out, I am kicking myself for how desperate I look. And I’m done.

A knock wraps on the wooden doorframe of my office followed by Noah’s voice.

“Hey bro, I just spent the last six hours rewiring the soundboard because some asshat from that Wrecker band that your brother signed thought it needed tuning because his voice didn’t sound guttural enough. You wanna grab a drink or five?”

“Or five sounds good,” I answer, tucking my chair under my desk, shoving my phone in my pocket and walking out.