Page 47 of Nash

Not the claim to fame I’m going for.

“Now, then,” Ms. Faye grins, nudging me, “just what kinda trouble have you gotten yourself into?”

I sputter my champagne, “I’m sorry. What?”

“Honey, I can tell when a cat has eaten a canary.” She winks. “What’s his name?”

Close your mouth, Vale.

“Oh, come on now.” She laughs. “There are no secrets and shame in our secret, shameful world, so tell me. I haven’t seen you at the club in weeks, and darlin’, I can always tell when a lady has been laid properly.Finally, in your case.”

“How… How did you know?”

Yes, I’ve fucked at Ms. Faye’s club. Almost everyone does. I mean, you don’t go to a sex club for the music.

She leans her rouge red lips toward my ear, whispering, “Every time a woman fakes an orgasm, a tiny part of my heart dies, and honey, I’ve watched you do it for years. So, congratulations. You glow.”

I glow? How? I’m about five minutes from puking chunks of guilt and truth.

We don’t have time to gossip more because Alena steps out in dress number seven. “I love this one,” she beams, and Faye and I fight tears.

“Oh, my gosh, Alena, you look stunning.” I rush to hug her.

“That’s the one, sweetie,” Ms. Faye agrees. “You look like a queen.”

“But it’s fifty thousand dollars,” she worries. “I can’t ask my dad to spend that kind of money.”

“You just let me handle this.” Faye winks. “Nash,” she calls, “get your tail in here and tell your beautiful daughter she can have whatever she wants.”

“She can.” I hear Nash answer before he sweeps aside the white velvet curtain and stops dead in his tracks.

For the first time, I see tears well in his eyes at the sight of Alena, and I’m done. Nothing is more beautiful than a father crying at the sight of his child.

Tears spill down my cheeks while she tenderly asks, “Dad, what do you think?”

Nash swallows hard, his voice choked as he answers. “I feel like the luckiest father to have a beautiful daughter like you.” He swallows again. “And your mother would agree.”

“Oh, she’s watching,” Faye softly adds. “She’s our angel.”

Alena wipes her eyes, her cheeks hitched high in a smile. “But it’s fifty thousand dollars, Dad. It’s too expensive.”

“It’s priceless and yours,” Nash answers. “You never let me spoil you, and since we can’t have the wedding at our home because of the repairs, let me at least give you the dress, flowers, reception, and everything else you want.”

Nash told Alena there was a major sewage leak in their house, and they had to evacuate. It requires months of plumbing repairs, and it’s a shitty lie.

Since that night, he won’t allow anyone to return to his home. Not until the Bridge Bastard is caught. Alena thinks he’s staying at a hotel while he rents her a little apartment. He said he didn’t want to crash at her new place while Loch was there.

When really? Nash has been crashing into me.

So, I cheered Alena on, getting her excited about her wedding at the Dunes Golf and River Club. A simple ceremony under the canopy of a vast oak tree dripping with Spanish moss by a Lowcountry river is very romantic. And it’s what Nash wants, too.

“I can secure that location. We own it,” he told me this morning. “So please help me get her excited about it.”

“Alena, are you crying?” A gravel voice calls from the other side of the velvet curtain. “Are you okay, babygirl?”

“We’re fine,” she answers Loch. “But don’t come in. I found my dress, and you can’t see it.”

My stare bounces from her, stunning and happy, to Nash, stoic with snarling lips.

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