A Very Merry Bromance (Bromance Book Club #5) (88)

“No. It’s me giving up. You win, Evan. At long last, you win. This has always been about money with you, so fine. Take it. So just tell me what it will take, and I’ll do it. You can have whatever you want or think you’re entitled to. Just leave Colton out of it.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Relinquish your inheritance and transfer all of your company stock to me.”

She’d known it would come to this, that the only thing he responded to was money, but disappointment still managed to worm its way beneath the cold rock that had once been her heart. “Once you call the DA, it’s all yours. I’ll sign whatever document you want.”

Evan finished his drink and immediately began to pour more. She waited as he replaced the cap on the whiskey and turned back around. He was dragging things out for effect, as he always did. After a long drink, he leaned against the wet bar. “I want one more thing.”

“What?”

“The job in D.C.” He took another drink. “I want you to take it. And never come back.”

“Don’t worry,” she said, coldness seeping into her tone. “You get that one for free. Because I never want to see any of you ever again.”

His smile was triumphant as he tipped his glass to her. “Nice doing business with you.”

Robotic steps took her to the door. Her fingers encircled the handle, but she gave him one more look. “Does Anna know?”

“About what?”

“Sarah.”

His jaw clenched.

Gretchen shook her head with sadness for a woman who’d only ever shown her civilized disdain. “She deserves better than you.”

Five minutes later, she drove home. And cried herself to sleep.





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE


Colton was arraigned at ten a.m.

By then, news of his arrest had gone national. Reporters from every state and local news outlet, as well as a handful of Nashville gossip sites, filled the small courtroom. Overflow cameras packed the jury box, their lenses pointed at the defense table to document every humiliating moment of the downfall of Nashville’s golden boy.

And when Colton was brought in wearing a jail jumpsuit, the click of cameras sounded like distant fireworks.

His attorney waited for him at the defense table. The clerk called the case number and read his name and the charges into the record, and then the judge asked him directly if he understood the charges against him.

Colton repeated the words his attorney had told him to say. “I do, your honor.”

There was more procedural stuff. A date was set for the preliminary hearing where he would officially enter a plea. The judge announced a thirty-thousand-dollar bond. And then it was over. Court officers led him out of the courtroom to the holding cell where five other defendants awaited their turn. In all, it took ten minutes from start to finish, but an entire lifetime had passed. From this point on, his career would be marred by the images of this short hearing. His unshaven face. His bruised knuckles. The orange jail suit.

An hour later, he posted bail, changed back into his clothes, and walked out the front door of the courthouse into a throng of reporters. His attorney and a beefy man Colton had never seen elbowed through them, ignored all shouted questions, and ushered him into the back seat of a black SUV.

The beefy guy took the wheel, and his attorney climbed into the passenger seat.

“Where’s my dad?”

“I sent him home as soon as the hearing ended,” Desiree said. “Buck wants you to go home and get some rest, and we’ll reconvene tonight.”

“I need my phone.”

Desiree handed it back in a plastic bag that also held his wallet. The battery on his phone was in the red, the screen a stack of unread notifications, mostly about texts from his friends. Only one was from Gretchen. A two-word text that read, I’m sorry.

He called her number. When she didn’t pick up, he texted. Stop apologizing. I’m on my way home.

No response.

Colton called his mother next. She answered breathlessly. “Are you okay? Is it over? Where are you?”

“On my way home.”

“Thank God.”

“Can you put Gretchen on the phone? She’s not answering.”

His mother paused.

“Mom.”

“She’s not here.”

The world skidded to a stop in his brain. “Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to call her, but she’s not answering me either. I didn’t even know she’d left. I was in the kitchen, and when I came out she was just gone.”

His phone chimed with a warning about the battery. “Mom, I’ll call you back.”

“Honey, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He ended the call and leaned forward between the front seats. “We need to turn around.”

Desiree looked back. “Why?”

“I need to pick up Gretchen.”

“Colton, I highly advise you against going out in public right now. The best thing you can do is go home, hunker down for a few days, and let the team handle this.”

“Turn around, or I’m jumping out at the next light.”

The beefy driver looked uncertainly at the attorney, who finally sighed and said, “Do it.”