Page 33 of That One Night (The Heartbreak Brothers Next Generation #4)

Chapter

Twenty-Six

Emery’s mom was waiting for her when she came down the stairs. She looked as tired as her daughter, like she hadn’t gotten much sleep either.

“Hi.” Emery shot her a smile. She needed coffee. And lots of it. She walked past her mom and reached for the pot.

“What was going on between Trenton and Hendrix last night?” her mom asked.

Get straight to it, why don’t you? “Nothing,” Emery said. “Just some old enmity coming out.”

“Well, maybe Hendrix should stay away,” her mom said, shaking her head. “I can’t believe Trenton came all the way here to see you and our neighbor butted in.” She looked at Emery. “Why didn’t Trenton come in when he dropped you off?”

Emery tried not to sigh. “I told you, he has work. He needed to get home.”

Her mom frowned, like she was completely confused. “I just don’t understand why he didn’t tell you he was coming. I could have made dinner. I’m sad he didn’t come in to say hello.”

Yeah, well Emery wasn’t. After more recriminations he’d driven her home, he barely let her get out of the car before he was spinning his wheels and heading away from the farm and back to Charleston.

The last thing she needed was for her mom to know that he’d pretty much threatened to scupper any sale of the farm.

Taking a long sip of the coffee – black, because she needed the energy boost – Emery looked out of the window to see that Hendrix’s motorcycle was gone.

She felt a little pang. She’d been so happy last night before it all went to hell.

So ready to fight the world. And now she felt like she was at sea again.

He’d been sweet, offering to see if he could help pay off the lien. But this was her problem, not his. She wasn’t going to depend on somebody else to pull her out of the hole she’d made for herself.

If only she’d said no to Trenton’s pleas at the very start.

“The realtor called,” her mom told her. “He’s already had some interest in the farm.

He’s setting up the viewings.” She gave Emery a half-smile.

“And I’ve looked through all the listings he sent over.

I’m going to make some appointments to view three houses in town.

” She looked at Emery. “You’ll come and look at them with me, won’t you? ”

“Of course.”

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” her mom asked. “You look pale. Was it seeing Trenton? You must miss him?”

Like she missed a hole in her head. “Everything’s fine.” She forced a smile on her lips. Because it would be. She was going to make some phone calls. This time to a real estate lawyer. Figure out how to get that damn lien removed. “I’m just a little tired.”

Her mom tipped her head to the side, looking concerned. “Are you sure there’s nothing troubling you? You seem… I don’t know? Distant, I guess. It’s okay if you can’t come with to see the houses with me. I know I have to do some of these things alone now.”

“No, of course I’ll come with you.” That wasn’t even in question.

Her mom nodded. “If there was something wrong, you’d tell me, right? Because you don’t have to bottle everything up. I know the past few months have been tough. I haven’t been the mother you’ve needed.”

“Mom, you’ve been fine.” Emery put her arms around her mom, holding her tight. “It’s me that’s all over the place.” She forced a smile onto her lips, determined not to let her mom know that inside she was panicking. “It’s just that end of summer feeling, you know?”

“I know.” Her mom patted her back. “Not long until you go home to Charleston. I’m dreading it, too.”

The field was warm and dusty, the sweet smell of the late harvest clinging to the air as his uncle’s workers loaded their baskets full of sweetcorn, their silky outer cases golden and ripe.

This was the final harvest they’d do in the field.

Next month they’d be busy with the corn his uncle grew for animal feed.

But Hendrix couldn’t think about next month.

He could barely think about tomorrow.

Last night he’d tossed and turned, unable to sleep, unable to do anything apart from think about Trenton’s threat to Emery.

No, not a threat. A promise.

It wasn’t just that Trenton was an asshole. He’d always known that. It’s that he thought he could treat Emery that way. That he could go back on his promise to sign away the lien. And yes, she was the one who’d broken their agreement first, or at least she’d threatened to.

But she didn’t deserve this. And he couldn’t help but think this was his fault.

The flatbed of the truck was half full with corn cobs.

In an hour it would be full, thanks to the eight men picking the long rows of golden ears.

Once full, he’d drive it to the barn to be sorted.

Some of it would go to his uncle’s restaurant – the menu was always locally sourced and in season – and others would go in vegetable boxes they sold to local stores.

But the majority was earmarked for the local canning plant to fulfill the contracts his uncle had signed last year.

Next year he’d have his own small harvest, if things worked out as he’d planned. It would be a one-man job for the first few years. He wouldn’t have the money to pay anybody else, and he didn’t want to grow too fast.

But he couldn’t wait to see the first fruits of his labor being sold.

“Did you hear me?” his uncle asked him. He was waiting by the flatbed, holding out a can of ice cold soda. He must have arrived to hand them out while Hendrix was picking corn.

“Sorry. I was a million miles away. What’s up?” Hendrix asked him. He took a long, cool sip of soda, but it did nothing to soothe the ache in his soul.

“I asked if everything was okay. You’ve been distant all morning.” He’d barely listened to his uncle when he was briefing him about the harvesting. “You coming down with something?”

“No.” He shook his head. Not unless you counted a bad case of annoyance as a sickness. And wishing he could stop the woman he cared about from getting hurt.

“You sure?”

He let out a breath. This was the problem with being a man of few words and a lot of actions. He wasn’t great at putting into words what he needed to say. He just needed to do things. To make things right.

To stop Emery from getting hurt.

He let out a breath, looking at his uncle again.

“Actually, I think you might be right. I might be coming down with something.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Would you mind if I disappeared for a few hours? I’ll make it up tomorrow. Be here before everybody else.”

“Of course.” His uncle nodded. “Are you sure there’s nothing I can do? I don’t like seeing you like this.”

He shook his head. “Thanks, but it’s not a big deal. I’ll be better tomorrow.” He gave his uncle a smile.

“No worries. Feel better.”

His uncle turned to call out to one of the farmhands, leaving Hendrix to grab his phone from his pocket as he walked back through the dusty field, heading for the edge where he’d left his bike.

He pulled up Google, tapping his big fingers on the screen keyboard as he typed into the search box.

Trenton Montclair. LinkedIn.

And there he was. The smarmy bastard, grinning at the camera like the cat who ate the cream. Strategy Director. Montclair Estates.

It took less than thirty seconds for his second search to bear fruition.

Montclair Estates Charleston Office

500 Kanawha Boulevard E, Suite 1203

Charleston, WV 25301

He slipped his phone back into his pocket, climbing onto his motorcycle. It was time to take a trip to Charleston.

He and Trenton Montclair had unfinished business.

Montclair Estates, Charleston division, was housed in a brownstone office building overlooking the Kanawha River.

Hendrix parked his truck – it had been too hot to ride his bike in the scorching heat – in the lot beneath the twelve story tower, then walked to the lobby, fully aware of how he must look walking into the pristine building.

He hadn’t bothered to change, and a few people turned to stare at the man in his old, battered jeans and black-t-shirt, covered in dust from a morning in the fields.

“Montclair Estates,” he told the receptionist.

“Of course. Are they expecting you?”

“Yeah.” It wasn’t a complete lie. He had to know Hendrix wouldn’t take it lying down. “Tell them it’s Hendrix Hartson here to see Trenton.”

The receptionist picked up her phone and spoke softly into the mouthpiece. She nodded and looked at Hendrix. “Do you have an appointment, Mr. Hartson?”

“No. But Trenton will know what it’s about.”

She did, pausing as she listened to the reply.

“Mr. Montclair’s assistant says to go on up.” The receptionist pointed at the bank of four elevators set into the marble wall. “You’ll need the twelfth floor.”

“Thank you.”

When the elevator arrived on the twelfth floor, he stepped out into the sprawling suite, taking a left to the door that led to Montclair Estates.

“Mr. Hartson?” a blonde asked him.

“That’s right.”

“Mr. Montclair is just through there. He’s expecting you.”

Hendrix bet he was.

“Can I get you a drink?” Trenton’s assistant asked him.

“No, I’m fine.” A complete lie. He was parched after a morning’s hard work, followed by a two-hour drive, but he needed to get this done. He walked over to the oak door with Trenton’s name written in gold on a black plaque at the center, and pushed it open.

Trenton was sitting behind his desk, in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the sparkling river. He had his arms crossed, and didn’t bother to stand up as Hendrix walked in.

“What do you want, Hartson?”

Hendrix looked him dead in the eye. There weren’t going to be any pleasantries.

Not that he wanted any. Until last night he hadn’t laid eyes on Trenton for over a decade.

Hadn’t wanted to. There was still a resemblance to the kid he used to be in high school.

His hair was still floppy, though a little shorter.

For a second he could remember Trenton as a cocky teen, when he’d pull into the school parking lot in his jet black BMW, rap music thumping from the speakers like he thought he was a badass.

Some people grew up after high school and left childish things behind. Others still clung to the top dog they used to be. He suspected Trenton was the latter.

What the hell did you see in him, Emery?

“I’ve come to tell you to leave Emery alone.” Hendrix murmured. Outside the window he could see an osprey circling high above the river, stalking the prey it would no doubt be swooping down to catch at any moment.

“You don’t need to worry about that. I wouldn’t touch her with a ten-foot pole now that you’ve had your greasy hands on her.”

Hendrix frowned. God, it really was like being back in high school with this guy. “And you need to release the lien.”

Trenton tipped his head to the side, his thin lips pressed together. “I won’t be doing that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t do favors for people who fuck me over.”

“Emery hasn’t fucked you over. She’s done nothing but be nice to you. You asked her to pretend you were still engaged. And she did.” Hendrix shook his head. “She’s done everything for you that she didn’t need to do because she’s a good person. She doesn’t deserve this.”

“And I don’t deserve to be cheated on.”

“You haven’t been cheated on. I know she explained that to you.”

“But I don’t believe her.” Trenton lifted a brow. “I have no idea why you’re here. I have nothing to say to you.”

“Release the lien,” Hendrix said, his voice low.

“Or what?”

The way he said it, like a dare, sent a warning shot through Hendrix’s brain. Trenton had a smirk on his face, like he was enjoying this way too much.

“Here’s the thing, Hartson. You’ve always thought you were better than me. Always thought your daddy being a rockstar made you king of the school.”

Hendrix sighed. “You’re a dipshit. We left school a long, long time ago.”

“Yet here you are, trying to get your revenge on me.” Trenton ran his thumb across his jaw. “Does she scream out your name like she used to scream mine?”

“Shut the hell up.”

“Why? Does it hurt, knowing I had her first?”

“You might have had her, but you didn’t keep her. You broke her.”

“Oh no. I didn’t do that.” Trenton finally stood, walking around his desk so he was in front of Hendrix.

The contrast between them couldn’t have been anymore different.

Hendrix in his dirty farm clothes, Trenton in his sharp suit.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll release the lien, but only if you do something for me. ”

“What?” Hendrix asked abruptly.

“Break it off with her.”

He shook his head. “You really are delusional.”

“I’m just protecting myself. My reputation.

” Trenton lifted a brow. “Of course, there’s the other problem,” he mused.

“The issue of you and Emery having an affair behind my back. I’ll have to make it clear she’s the reason we split up.

I don’t expect she’ll like that very much, when everybody in Hartson’s Creek finds out that you two are cheaters. ”

“But we’re not. You two were split up.”

Trenton shrugged. “But nobody knows that. I know Emery. She’s been very careful to keep it quiet.

” He brought his eyes up to Hendrix’s, a flash of victory in them.

“Emery said something about your mom’s charity last night.

I’ve been looking it up today. What a noble endeavour.

She sounds so excited about it. Wouldn’t it be awful if her family had some kind of scandal right when she was launching it? ”

Hendrix’s mouth went dry. “You wouldn’t do that. She’s never done anything to hurt you.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Unless I was forced to.” He lifted his chin. “The ball’s in your court, Hartson. Either you break it off with Emery, or by the end of tomorrow everybody will think you had an affair with my fiancée.”

“You think she’ll be okay with that? With you making me do this?” Fury rushed through him.

“I don’t think we need to tell her.” Trenton gave him a pointed stare.

“You break things off and I’ll sign that lien off on Saturday.

Emery and her mom will be free to sell the farm.

And if you don’t, then I’ll make sure the whole of Hartson’s Creek knows exactly what you’ve been doing with my fiancée.

It’s your choice. Take it or leave it.” He grabbed a business card from the silver case on his desk, passing it to Hendrix.

“Let me know your decision. I’ll do the rest.”

When Hendrix had taken the card, he leaned over his desk and pressed a button. “Catherine, Mr. Hartson will be leaving now.”