Page 20 of One Southern Summer

“Wow, that’s intriguing. Ludicrous as in you might get arrested or was this more of a slightly questionable activity?”

“I accepted a bribe.”

Hemby stopped bouncing the ball and straightened without serving. “Now, there’s four words I never thought I’d hear from you.”

A rivulet of sweat trickled down Cole’s back, making his T-shirt stick to his skin. Why had he confessed? If he needed to bare his soul, there were more empathetic listeners in his life.

“Let’s take a water break.” Hemby let the ball bounce away and strode toward the blue metal bench on the sideline. “Unless this confession of yours calls for dinner inside?”

Cole shook his head and walked toward his bag slumped on the end of the bench. He didn’t have the energy to shower and meet his friend at the country club’s restaurant. Or make polite conversation with the board members and benefactors he’d likely run into.

Henry Everett McDougal Broughton, nicknamed Hemby by his little brother more than twenty-five years ago, had been Cole’s closest friend for at least that long. They’d both gone to Auburn and roomed together for four years. Hemby had witnessed the destruction Cole’s younger sister Kimberly’s death had rained down on their family. Even though there was very little his best friend didn’t know, Cole had often struggled to find the words to describe his feelings for Avery.

Hemby tackled every obstacle life threw at him with a brutally pragmatic approach. Sometimes his tough love pep talks were exactly what Cole needed. Today was not one of those times. Despite multiple attempts by Hemby and his wife to set Cole up on dates, none of those connections had ever panned out. When Cole broke up with his last girlfriend, Evangeline, and Hemby’s wife questioned why, Hemby had remarked that Avery had stolen Cole’s heart and never bothered to return it.

The sarcastic comment had stung, mostly because it was true. Avery had captured his heart and he’d never recovered.

“Want one?” Hemby twisted the top off an electrolyte replacement drink.

The offer pulled Cole back to the present. “Please.”

Hemby passed him the bottle coated in condensation. Cole took a long sip. The sweet orange liquid coated his parched throat.

They sat side by side on the bench. Tennis balls plunked against rackets and thumped off the hard surface behind them. Hemby swabbed his face with a white towel. “What’s on your mind?”

“Avery’s grandmother donated a generous sum of money to Imari’s Place.”

“Maribelle Lansing?”

Cole nodded.

“Excellent.” Hemby tapped his bottle against Cole’s in a pseudo toast. “How much?”

“A quarter of a million.”

“And your problem with this is what exactly?”

“Her donation is contingent upon me hiring Avery to help design the expansion project.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Sweat dribbled into Cole’s eyes and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. “Avery will be furious when she finds out.”

“Who’s going to tell her?”

“Forget it.” Cole pressed the side of his sports drink to his cheek, desperate for anything to draw the suffocating heat from his flushed skin. “I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“Take it easy, sparky.” Hemby slung his towel over his shoulder. “Donors make contingencies all the time. Names on buildings, specific bricks on certain courtyards. Mrs. Lansing wants her granddaughter, who happens to be a popular lifestyle guru, to be closely involved. I don’t see why that’s an issue.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Cole dug in his bag for a towel. “You have no skin in this game.”

“Not true.” Hemby scoffed. “I’m your best friend, and you’re miserable company right now. It’s my job to try and improve the current situation.”

“Yeah, well, I deserve to be miserable.”

“Another false statement.” Hemby grinned then lightly punched Cole’s shoulder. “C’mon, man. Stop worrying. This might be a serendipitous opportunity.”

“Or the perfect way for me to ruin my future.”

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