Page 74 of Brewer Family Collection, Part 1

Jason

“ I would’ve been much happier had we not walked out of there with a threat still hanging over our heads,” I say into the phone.

Towlin sighs.

I gaze across the desert, as the hot morning sun hits me through the windows. Sunshine usually lifts my spirits. But not today. Not about this.

“We’re confident we can navigate this situation, Jason. And, if it does become a legal issue, we’re prepared to pull out all the stops to stop it in its tracks.”

“That’s good. That’s very good. Because if I’m left to explain to Gannon that our father is pinning fraud and extortion charges on the two of us, I’m going to be fucking pissed.”

My jaw pulses, clenching so hard it hurts. The pain is welcome, though, because it takes an ounce of focus off my problems at hand. Namely, Reid Brewer.

Towlin babbles on about strategy and how Discovery should help us in the long run, and the claimant knows that.

He assures me that they’re probably aware it was Dad, but we're targets since Gannon and I are the major controllers of the Brewer finances. And with Dad pointing his finger our way, they’re all too happy to agree.

“If you don’t mind me saying this,” Towlin says, meaning I’m absolutely going to mind what he’s about to say. I brace myself. “But you should tell Gannon and take the air out of the argument. Let him know.”

“And you should mind your business.”

“Jason …”

“Reid Brewer has torn our family apart,” I say, the words hot as they pour from my mouth. “He has gone out of his way to try to dismantle our businesses, our relationships, and each of us individually.”

“I know that.”

I chuckle angrily. He’s known on paper what my father has done. But he doesn’t fully comprehend the emotional toll this has taken.

The stress and angst we’ve had to live with daily. The pain his lies deliver. The brutality of the betrayal.

“May I ask why you want to protect Gannon?” Towlin asks. “If it were Tate, or Ripley, I’d understand. But it’s peculiar that you’re working so hard to protect your eldest brother.”

It’s none of his damn business why I do or don’t do anything. But I’ll tell him anyway. Maybe then he’ll follow along.

I slide my free hand into my pocket. “Gannon has idolized our father since the day he was born. He played baseball because Dad did. Went to the same business school. He has intentionally or otherwise picked up most of Dad’s mannerisms over the years.

” I stop moving, my heart pounding. “He took our father’s betrayal harder than any of us, even if he doesn’t show it. ”

Towlin is silent.

“If he knew that the man he’d put on a pedestal his whole life cared so little about him that he’d orchestrate for him to go to prison for something he didn’t do, Gannon would be devastated.

” I frown. “He’d be absolutely crushed, Towlin.

And that would destroy my mother. Again.

Bianca would blame herself for stepping down as the president of Brewer Group.

Ripley would probably try to climb the walls of the prison to slice Dad’s throat.

Ripley isn’t going anywhere without Tate. And do you know where that leaves me?”

I pause to see if he responds, but he doesn’t.

“That leaves me figuring out how to do it because I’ll be damned if my family takes any more pain because of that motherfucker,” I growl, running my fingers across my scalp. “I’ll figure this out. Gannon finds out as a last resort.”

“You don’t have to carry this all on your own.”

The bedroom door opens, and I turn at the sound. Chloe’s wrapped in a new robe from yesterday, and she smiles, hesitating, as she observes the situation.

I exhale sharply, my heart softening as I take her in.

I’m not carrying this alone because I have her.

“Are we done here?” I ask Towlin. “I have a few things to take care of before we head to the airport.”

He lets the insinuation of my marital status go. He wasn’t thrilled about the news this morning, although he didn’t have the balls to bring it up to me. His argument against me marrying Chloe would be that it adds another layer of complication, and it’s distracting to the topic at hand.

His argument doesn’t fucking matter. Not when it comes to her.

“One more thing …” He takes a deep breath. “I do have something to run by you.”

I hold up a finger to Chloe. She nods, understanding my need for privacy, and disappears into the bedroom.

My insides pulse, preparing for a bomb to land in my lap. It’s coming. I can feel it.

“What’s up?” I ask, placing a palm on the table.

“Reid’s attorneys approached me on Friday. I haven’t said anything to you because I needed to clear a few hurdles to see if it was even possible, and it is.”

“What’s possible?”

My fingers flex against the stone and around the phone, waiting for his next words.

“He wants to meet with you,” Towlin says, his voice uneasy.

“Who?”

“Your father.”

I snort out a laugh, my eyes popping in surprise. “Tell him to go fuck himself.”

“He’s willing to sign the plea deal if you sit down with him.”

My face burns as I struggle to contain myself. “He doesn’t get to call the shots. He doesn’t get to ask me for anything ,” I growl into the air. “He doesn’t want me anywhere near him, I can promise you that. I’ll rip his fucking head right off his shoulders.”

“I understand you’re angry.” That’s an under-fucking-statement.

“A little bit,” I say, shoving away from the table.

“Why don’t you think about it and get back to me in a couple of days? Jason, I know it’s not what you want to do, but there are silver linings.”

The doorbell rings, and I march to the foyer. I hand the delivery person all the cash in my pocket, which is probably enough for a day’s worth of coffee deliveries but fuck it, take the coffee, and close the door.

“I need to go,” I say, heading for the bedroom. “I’ll call you later this week.”

“Goodbye.”

“Goodbye.”

I slide my phone across the table as I walk by and enter the bedroom. Chloe’s sitting on the edge of the bed in a long white and pink dress. Her brows lift warily as I approach her.

“Is everything okay?” she asks. “I tried not to listen, but when your voice is that loud, it’s hard not to hear.”

“Nothing new. Nothing for you to worry about.” I hand her a vanilla iced latte and kiss the top of her head. “You look beautiful this morning.”

She smiles. “You say that so often that I’m starting to think it’s just a line.”

“I should’ve known. You do like creativity.”

Her smile darkens as we share a memory of last night after dinner.

She stands and presses a sweet kiss to my lips. “Thank you for the coffee. I was going to say I can’t believe you remembered, but that’s untrue. I’m not the least bit surprised.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

“You should expect your coffee in the morning. Maybe we are making progress.”

She rolls her eyes before her attention settles over my shoulder—at the ringing phone I’m trying to ignore.

Chloe’s words last night regarding returning to reality, about how this weekend has been amazing, and she didn’t want to leave it, come drifting back to me. Suddenly, I understand what she was saying. I don’t want to go back, either.

“I bet Renn would sell me this place,” I say, only half-kidding. “We could move here, bring Mimi, and just live out the rest of our lives.”

She smacks my chest, sipping her coffee as she heads for the closet. “You’d be bored out of your mind.”

“I think you could keep me entertained.”

She pauses in the doorway and giggles. “I could for a while. It might be a fun experiment for a few months.”

“Wanna try it?”

She shakes her head and rummages around in her bags, the sound crinkling through the room. “Be a good little CEO and check your phone. Make sure the office isn’t burning down. I just need a few more minutes to gather the rest of the store you bought for me yesterday, and then I’ll be ready to go.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic, but thanks for the reminder.”

“Of my frustration with you?” she calls.

“No. Of the way you looked in that skimpy black thing last night. I think we’ll try the white one when we get home.”

Her head pops around the corner, grinning. She holds my gaze for a few moments and then ducks back inside.

“Fine,” I say, groaning. “I’ll be out here when you’re ready.”

“Good boy.”

I chuckle, walking out of the bedroom. Has she ever not handled me?

Leave it to Chloe to make me laugh, even when I’m in a terrible mood.

Mom’s name’s on the screen, and given she’s the only person I’d call back right now, I press her name and listen to it ring.

“Hey, Jason.” I can hear her smile through the line. “How are you?”

“Good. Getting our stuff packed to head home. Thank you for the flowers for Chloe, by the way. They’re going to be a pain in the ass to get back to Tennessee.”

“I’m sure you can handle it.”

“I’m sure I can, too,” I say, grinning. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I was in Savannah a couple of weeks ago and had dinner with Rodney and Siggy Mason. A few of their friends joined us at this fabulous restaurant. You should take Chloe there the next time you’re down that way. Anyway ,” she says, earning an eye roll from me, “I met a man.”

Whoa.

I recoil from those three little words. “You met a man?”

“I know it’s sudden and?—”

“Mother.”

She hesitates. “Yes?”

“I think that’s great.” I laugh softly. “I mean, get Ford to run a background report on him, and send me his name so I can look him up.”

“You are not parenting me, Jason Brewer.”

I grin. “No, you’re right. I’m not. I’m using my specific skill set and the avenues available to me to ensure you won’t be taken advantage of.”

“Hold up, child. I might need to be taken advantage of. It’s been a while.”

My jaw drops. It lowers even farther as my mother, one of the most prim and proper women I’ve ever known, finds humor in this situation.

“Who have you been hanging around with?” I ask, chuckling.

“Foxx’s parents, actually.” Her laugh is loud and free. For the first time in my adult life, she sounds happy. “Damaris and Kixx Carmichael are hilarious— and dirty . You should hear them. It’s no wonder their children are all little firecrackers. They come by it honestly.”

I know Foxx’s family, and she’s right. The Carmichaels are as lively as they are good people. I just didn’t expect my mother to fall into their shenanigans.

Oh, how things change. Or, maybe this is who she really is. After all, none of her children could be called shy and withdrawn. Maybe she’s only just finding her true self.

I can only respect this resilient woman.

“So who is this man?” I ask.

“His name is Joseph Dallo. His daughter is married to—well, a guy who works for Ford Landry, actually.”

“Troy Castelli?”

“Yes. That’s him. The dark complected one that—you know what? Let’s move on.”

I look at the ceiling. “Yes. Let’s.”

“Anyway, Joseph was in town to see his daughter and we hit it off. I’ve seen him a couple of times since. I haven’t found the courage to tell you, but I figured you should be on a honeymoon high this morning. So I took my chances.”

I grin at her light and airy tone. She’s come a long way in the past few months.

And, even if what happened to her was one of the worst things I could imagine, I’m starting to think it’s for the best. Because even if this helps her separate from my father, something I don’t think she would’ve done had he not gone off the rails, it’s also given her life back.

This Rory Brewer would not be here had she not experienced everything she has lately.

In a way, I’m grateful for it all—and that’s an uncomfortable feeling to wrestle with.

“I expect to meet him sooner rather than later,” I say.

“I hoped you’d say that.”

“Have you told the others?”

She laughs. “No. Bianca suspects something so she won’t be surprised. Gannon and Ripley will be fine with it. But Lord knows I don’t want to deal with Tate.”

My laughter joins hers. “He’s going to give you so much shit.”

“I might be loosening up, but I’m not at the point in my life where I can take Tate’s debauchery.”

I snicker, shaking my head. “He’s your child.”

“That he is. And I’m proud of that boy, just like I’m proud of you.” She pauses. “And maybe you’ll know that feeling soon.”

My gaze flickers to the bedroom, catching a glimpse of Chloe packing the last of her things. The idea of her being pregnant with my child—her stomach swollen with our baby—makes my cock hard. But it also makes my heart skip a beat.

“Maybe, Mom,” I say. “We’ll see.”

She sighs happily. “Okay. I just needed to get this off my chest. Let me know when it’s okay to come up and visit with you and your beautiful bride.”

“Thank you for giving us a bit of space. I appreciate that.”

“Of course, Jason. I love you so much.”

“I love you so much, too.”

“Call me.”

“I will.”

“Goodbye, son.”

“Bye, Mom.”

I end the call and slide my phone into my pocket, my gaze settled on my wife. She looks at me with a tilt of her head—my beautiful wife.

I love you, too, Chloe. Maybe I always have.

And maybe I’ll get to tell you that soon, too.