Tied up in Notts

As one does after an emotionally taxing day, I woke up with a raging headache. I called it my Wednesday hangover. The fact it played a recurring role in my week was a telling sign. Only this time I wasn't alone. That was different.

The childlike nature of his head cradled in his arms paired perfectly with the masculine strength of his wide, exposed shoulders and taut back muscles. He had a slight tan line from working in a t- shirt but he was also pretty damn tan all over.

With no chance of him catching me I took a moment to selfishly enjoy his hot-as-sin body. And boy was it sinful. He had the whole brooding, dark, and handsome with a splash of sensitive going for him. His hair was in need of a cut but looked adorable and disheveled from sleep. His skin was surprisingly smooth and flawless for someone who spent so much time exposed to the elements.

I thought about waking him but he was an adult, if he needed to get up at a certain time then that was on him. I wasn't his keeper. I pulled on my running clothes, tied my shoes, and grabbed my earbuds. The October mornings were getting colder and darker by the day.

I'd run the same course almost daily since staying at the cottage and had been avoiding eye contact with the commuters I normally waved to. I needed to get over it and stop behaving like a child. Having Penn on my side, telling me that we'd get through it one day at a time was giving me the strength and encouragement I needed to begin healing.

I decided to stop being a coward. No one knew what was going on and, if they did, so be it. So, I started waving again. It felt surprisingly normal and actually helped my mood. I felt less anxious. I saw nothing but smiles, nods, and waves. Not a single person looked at me with pity.

Ryan drove by and did his typical faux swerve. I didn't fall for it like I did the first time but I did laugh. A couple of minutes later Logan passed by. He was more of a causal waver; a two-fingers-raised-from-the-steering-wheel kind of guy. Normally, I'd see Penn next but he was at the cottage, sleeping.

The gratitude I felt for Penn and his patience was overwhelming. He listened without judgment, spoke without adding pain, then stayed with me while I lost my shit trying to process it all. If that wasn't the epitome of friendship then I don't know what is. Penn was the kind of man that men needed to be. He wasn't afraid to handle my emotions head-on. He told me, then showed me I wasn't alone. That was more than I could say for Lee.

I didn't make it to my normal turn around spot before I decided to head back. I wanted to take a page from Penn's book and change my investments. I wanted to spend time with people who made me feel good. Something I needed more than ever.

He was still sleeping when I got home so I took a shower. I was standing in the room looking for a pair of underwear when I heard the deepest voice ever. It was like sand and gravel covered in dark molasses. I always enjoyed his voice; it was rich and meaningful but his morning voice—wowee. I don't think words ever sounded so delicious.

I slowly turned to face him, stunned by the change. "Say that again—"

He propped himself and looked at me. He had a perfect chiseled body, dark summer tan that contrasted against the white sheets, messy hair that screamed sex, and deep voice that could tempt the straightest of men. All that perfectness and he had the audacity to look embarrassed. Why? I had no idea. He was total fantasy material.

"Why didn't you wake me?" he hesitantly repeated his words.

I wanted to swoon. "Oh my god," I moaned like a teenager. "That voice..."

Oh lord, he blushed. Swoon-swoon-swoon-a-licious. "It does this most mornings. More so if I sleep like the dead. It will go away."

"You say it like it's a bad thing. You better keep talking." I abandoned the search for clothes for the chance to savor the last fleeting moments of Mr. Morningvoice. I laid beside him, in just a towel, propped on my elbow and stared at him like a child seeing Santa for the first time.

"What are you doing?" Penn asked, his eyes riddled with sleep and confusion and embarrassment.

"Your voice is the sexiest thing I've ever heard. Talk to me."

Penn laughed, which was also incredibly sexy in the morning, then rolled on his stomach and buried his face in the pillow.

"

What are you doing?

" I shook him. "

You're wasting time!

"

He lifted his head and looked at me, all smiley and flushed. "You just want me to—talk?"

"Oh

yeah

." He looked embarrassed and panicked. He had no clue what to talk about. "Just tell me you have planned today."

"The Fall Fishman's Expo finished yesterday so I have to pick up thirty porta-potties from the fairgrounds. If you know what a weekend of fried food does to a person's digestive system then you'll understand the special kind of hell today will be—"

"

Okay—"

I put my hand up to stop him. "That wasn't the kind of dirty talk I had in mind." I got off the bed and walked to the dresser.

"You're the worst, you know that? Beg me to tell you about my day then you throw a fit because it's not sunshine and roses."

"Sunshine and roses, huh? I bet you could use some of that to combat all those deep fried porta-potties."

"Now who's gross?"

"And yet you love me," I cooed as I pulled a shirt over my head and buttoned my pants. "Do you need a shower?"

"Yeah, I probably should. Not that it will matter in a few hours."

I left him to it and went to the kitchen to whip up a couple bowls of oatmeal with a plate of fruit. He joined me a few minutes later with wet hair and yesterday's clothes. He sat down next to me and we ate breakfast together. I had nowhere to be so I savored my food while thumbing through social media. He ate fast then got up, washed his dishes, and got ready for work.

"See you at lunch," he said as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head before walking out the door.

I watched as he left the cottage. Before driving away, he waved at me through the window. There was an effortlessness about him. In no time at all he had gone from someone I barely knew, to someone I didn't want to live without.

I sat in the kitchen and worked for a while. I was deep into quarterly accounting when my phone rang. Wayne's voice rang from the other line. "

Nashville

!"

"Wayner, always a pleasure."

He called me Nashville because I constantly kicked his ass in song and dance competitions, which there were a surprising number of in my line of work. He was born and raised in Indiana yet everyone in

Oregon

were hicks. The irony of a Midwest boy thinking I'm a country boy was never lost on me.

"We haven't talked in a few weeks. How are you holding up?"

I didn't have much to report. Things were...going. He asked about counseling and I was candid about my thoughts on the matter. It was pointless.

"Well, I don't know if this is good or not but I finally set up a meeting with the committee. How does Sunday sound?"

"Sounds terrible but long overdue."

"I know, but it was probably for the best. It gave things time to settle before we stir the cowpie," he laughed. "But we can't hold off forever, it's time to get this shit done."

"I know, I'm trying to stay positive, but—"

"Hey now," his voice was firm. "I know things haven't been ideal between you and the committee but we're a team and I'm here for

you

. I'm sure we'll smash it out and everything will end good terms."

"I know, it's just hard to stay optimistic when I'm dealing with Paul. I feel like it will come down to me or him and since everyone on the committee has changed his diaper at some point, I'm not sure you and I have a chance."

"At the end of the day,

I'm the boss

," he reminded me. "I only have to take what they want into consideration. And you need to remember that you haven't done anything wrong."

"I know," I sighed. "I guess we'll see what Sunday brings. What time is the meeting?"

"One-thirty, which brings me to the real reason I called, I'm going to crash with you Sunday night."

"Wayne," I laughed. "I'm living rent-free in a cottage. I'm not exactly in a position to offer room and board."

"I thought you said there are two bedrooms."

"There is, but—"

"Perfect, I'll see you Sunday."

And like that, he was gone. I shook my head. It was so like him to get his way by playing dirty.

****

I ended up going to lunch with the law firm. God knows why I did it. Actually, I did. Lee, despite his terrible ways, still held a part of me captive. It felt like a line from one of those corny movies when the guy says something stupid like, "I can't quit you." I always rolled my eyes and yelled at them for being so dumb. How could they be so blind? Now I know.

Lee used lunch as an excuse to pretend like things were good between us. Even though I was there because of him, I couldn't let myself pretend like things were fine. He kept standing next to me with his hand on the small of my back or draped over the back of the chair. Everytime he did it, I maneuvered away. I'm sure everyone felt the tension between us. I don't think I spoke a single word to him the entire time. I kept myself busy with his colleagues, all of whom I liked. Mostly, I did what I was supposed to do and watched the potential hire, who was great. Chambers didn't need me there. I suspected Lee was behind my invitation.

When we finished, Chambers and I walked out together. It gave us a few minutes to discuss our thoughts.

"Well, today was interesting," he said.

"You didn't even need me. Gregory was a shoo-in."

"He was, but that's not what I'm talking about."

We slowed and glanced at the rest of the group, who were keeping their distance. Lee was chatting amicably with a couple of his co-workers while everyone else walked to their cars.

I knew what Chambers was referring too. He might pay me to read people but he was no dummy himself. "We split," I said. "He'd kill me if he found out I was telling you but I don't care anymore."

"

What?!"

Chambers looked genuinely shocked by the announcement. "You guys were the dream team."

"Well, here's the thing about dreams; they're not real."

"Surely you don't mean that. You of all people were living the dream. Can I ask what happened?"

I glanced at Lee again. Fuck, he'd be pissed if he knew I was spilling details to his boss. "I caught him cheating."

"Well," he hesitated the way one does when they think punishment is bigger than the crime. "It happens, Nash. I see it all the time. I also see a lot of people move past it. People make mistakes but Lee loves you, that much I know. Can he not be forgiven? I'd hate to see what you guys had gone to waste."

Nash shook his head. The back of his eyes burned and he couldn feel Lee watching the back of his head. Chambers saw the look of pain on Nash's face and frowned. He reached for Nash but Nash pulled away.

"Is it still considered a mistake when you cheat for years? When does it stop being a mistake and become a very intentional act of betrayal?"

Chambers balled his fists. "Fuck" he shook his head. "I should fire him."

"Yeah, well—" I shrugged. There was a part of me that would love to see Lee get fired but he'd never be the one to set that in motion.

"Who's representing you?"

"I don't know. I haven't gotten that far. Lee wants to work things out so—I don't know, we're in counseling."

He looked me straight on; drilling his grey eyes into mine. It was the same look he used in the courthouse and it made me want to pee my pants. "I love Lee. I hired him when he was still in high school and he's been an amazing asset to the firm. With that said, if you don't want to fix what he broke, then don't. Infidelity is a fair reason to split and you don't owe him anything. I can't advise you on what to do but if you called this number—" he pulled a card from his wallet. "She can."

"Oh," I held the card between my fingers and looked it over. The card was thick and expensive looking, the kind that told me I couldn't afford her. "We're still sharing a bank account, I can't—"

"

Nash

," he looked shocked. "

You can't be that stupid."

I stared blankly, unsure of how to respond. What do you say to that? I was that stupid, clearly.

Chambers lectured me on the merits of separating assets. We ended up having a decent conversation and he did a really good job at convincing me there was no reason to wait. Maybe it was because he was a lawyer or maybe I was finally ready to hear it, but everything he said resonated with me.

"Okay," he looked at me like he was making a plan. "You just call the number I gave you and leave everything else to me, okay?"

We stood around for a few minutes longer. I could feel Lee watching us, staring, telling me to shut the fuck up. Meanwhile, the card was burning a giant hole in my pocket and I felt like everyone could tell I was hiding a secret.

****

Wayne showed up on Sunday morning around ten. I showed him the spare room and then we spent a couple hours catching up. We talked a lot about Lee. It was different talking about it in person versus on the phone. It felt good. Wayne had a way about him, he could tell you a truth so hard to hear it made your teeth hurt but make you laugh two minutes later.

"Well, it's time," he clapped. "Let's go bust shit up."

The Culla's house wasn't far, maybe a five-minute drive. It felt longer, way longer. I hated not knowing what to expect, it was the worst. I hated even more that Paul would be there. I wasn't sure if he'd be remorseful, apologetic, embarrassed.

"Take a breath, Nash. You're starting to make me anxious."

"I can't help it. This will be the first time I've seen Paul since—well, you know."

"Kind of sucks we'll be meeting in a professional setting and you can't deck him in the face, eh?"

"Was that ever an option?"

Wayne laughed. "If I thought you'd actually do it, I'd have your back."

"You're one pocket protector and hip surgery away from a Florida retirement community.

"Why does everyone hate on pocket protectors? There's value in organizing your writing utensils and having them easily accessible."

"Says the old person."

"This

old

person will lay you out,

son

."

I smiled out his window as I watched the town go by. As we neared the driveway, my nerves skyrocketed. Everyone was there, probably plotting and planning against me. I knew it wasn't true but my mind kept going there, thinking of very unfavorable scenarios.

"Let's do this," Wayne said as he practically jumped out of the car. He almost seemed excited to face whatever was going to happen while I was a complete mess.

I saw Paul the second I walked in the door. If I thought he might be remorseful for what happened, I was wrong. He looked at me like the whole situation was my fault, like the only thing he regretted was my existence. The look in his eyes was pure hatred. Even after he turned his back on me, every time I saw his face, he was scowling. He was so wrapped up in his anger that I barely spoke to a single person.

They noticed. I watched everyone glance at him but they ignored it. They let Paul behave like a child. No one called him out for being cold and rude.

I worried that Paul might've said something to them but I didn't get any weird vibes. We stood in the foyer for a while, making small time, and no one looked at me funny, no side glances, no lingering stares of annoyance.

It didn't take long before Marilan, Paul's mother, shooed us to the dining room. The wood table held an array of homemade appetizers. I had to give the woman credit, she knew her way around the kitchen. I gained ten pounds every time we met. Even after we sat, everyone continued to talk.

Paul sat at the opposite side of the table, next to his wife. He refused to make eye contact with me, which was fine. I just couldn't believe how irritated he was. I mean, it made total sense since it was

I

who had inconvenienced

him

with my marriage.

"Alright," his dad, Dennis, boomed and the whole room silenced. "I know it's been a while since we've met and, as much as I'd like to spend all night catching up, we have a full agenda. Wayne has come a long way so I'd like to respect his time."

Instantly, the atmosphere turned to business. Dennis did that. There was something about him that held authority. He was a tough businessman but he had a sensitive side when it came to kids. I'd seen him cry more than once when kids turn their lives around.

We got started, Cindy read minutes from the last meeting, I talked about the clubble, camp, and how things had been since starting back up in September. We were about to move on to new business when Wayne interrupted.

"Before we begin, I'd like to have the floor for a moment if that's okay with everyone." Besides Paul, who was trying not to glare at me, no one was bothered by Wayne's interruption. "After talking with several of you, it seems there's some issues to discuss. It looks like there's been a lack of communication which has led to a lack of understanding. I think it needs to be cleared up before we move forward."

"He's right," Dennis said, his hand moved to his chest. "And I'd like to apologize for not reaching out sooner. I wasn't sure how to address the issue since Nash has always been on top of things. It was quite an unexpected shock to hear the ball is being dropped."

Me, dropping the ball? That got my attention.

"Okay," Wayne was trying to keep himself composed. "How has Nash been dropping the ball? If we can figure out what's going on, then we can find a resolution."

"My understanding is that he's not putting in the agreed hours, not going to events and games, and he's not meeting with leaders regularly but he's also having them do more."

Wayne glanced at me and I could tell he was trying not to roll his eyes. Did I want to ditch events, yes. Did I? No. It took all my self-control to not stand up and flip the table on Paul's manipulating lying ass.

"When did this start?"

Dennis shrugged and looked at Paul for confirmation. Paul's discomfort was boiling by that point. Did he really think he could tell his dad I was doing a shit job and expect it wouldn't get brought up?

"Paul brought it to my attention a while ago, maybe a year? I think he mentioned it's been declining more rapidly as of late." Dennis was watching all of us and as he said the words, it was almost like he realized something was up.

Besides a questioning brow raise, Wayne remained neutral and stoic while I silently stewed at the slander. Wayne picked up his tablet and tapped away. "According to Nash's reports, he's accomplished a lot. In fact, he raised his portion of camp funds plus some. That extra contributed to the amount that you, as committee, had failed to raise. He's already thirty-seven percent ahead of schedule for raising next year's personal support. It also looks like there's been a four percent increase in kids over the last eighteen months. According to everything I have, Nash has been busier than ever. If he is able to scale back while maintaining these results then I don't see an issue. I also don't see any balls dropping. But I do see a big discrepancy between what's being said about Nash and what Nash is actually doing. Why is this?"

Everyone looked at Paul, he was the only one who could answer anyway. I could see his heart racing as he tried to figure a way out of the mess. I wondered how he came here thinking he could be this disrespectful and not be outed. Judging by the way he was glancing at his wife, he was starting to realize this very potential.

"All I know is that the last few months he hasn't been doing his part. He's been having the volunteers do most of the work at club while he does nothing."

Wayne nodded and looked at me, preparing me for what was about to happen. As much as I didn't want to open this can of worms, I knew it was the only way.