family: benjamin theodore abhrams (father), delilah mary abhrams (mother), theresa jane abhrams (sister), liam abhrams (brother), georgia mae abhrams (sister)
living arrangements:Â at the abhrams estate in avonlea terrace
IN A NUTSHELL. . .
wyatt was born in covington to a family with a political legacy in covington. from the time it was founded, the abhrams family had always held the post of mayor at one point or another. his father was the mayor for a little over ten years when he lost and that loss devastated him. he began to take out his frustrations on the family and wyatt specifically. as soon as he turned eighteen, he left for harvard and completed both undergrad and grad school there. he moved to d.c. where he worked at a law firm practicing election law for a few years before transitioning fully into a political consultant role, working on campaigns for any candidate that wanted him. he gained traction and notoriety in the space and he was fully entrenched in that career path. right at the height of the campaign for his current candidate, he received a call from his mother that his father had disappeared. begrudgingly, and because he still has loyalty to his family, just not his father, wyatt came back to covington to figure out where he went. he has no intention of staying too long. a few wanted connections here
IN THE WEEDS. . .
TW: child abuse mention
It is said that as long as the Covington Square has been around, the Abhrams family has been in the City Hall. Each generation continued in the footsteps of Henry Abhrams who was the first in the family to defeat the incumbent mayor at the time to take the position. From that point forward, if the Abhrams name appeared on a ballot, they touted that it was a guaranteed victory. On a bright May afternoon, Delilah and Benjamin Abhrams welcomed the first of four to their family: Wyatt Henry Abhrams. Benjamin, like his own father, grandfather, and on, was biding time for his inevitable campaign. Wyatt grew up around a number of political advisors and campaign slogans. After all, his father took the legacy very seriously. The job and the campaign kept him too occupied to think too much about his family. The few times he did spend time with them, it was only to emphasize that they would have to follow in the footsteps of their father. Especially Wyatt. For the majority of his childhood, Wyatt was an ideal student and son. He was a great older brother and despite Benjaminâs absence, Wyatt still looked up to his father. Accompanying him around town for campaigns, he reveled in the exhilaration of a campaign and more than that, in the exhilaration of the wins.
Yet after nearly a decade of service, when Wyatt was eleven years old, his father lost for the first time, tarnishing the Abhrams claim that their name was synonymous with victory. He won the following year, leading him to think the year before had been a fluke. Nonetheless, the stress got to him, and he began to hyper-fixate on every single detail. Which was why two years later, he lost once again in a loss that he could not come back from, proving that the Abhrams family perhaps was no longer in line with the views of the townspeople, or maybe they were tired of Benjaminâs focus on campaigning and less on working for the people. Whatever the reason, the patriarch of the family took the loss poorly. With no idea what to do with the rest of his life, he began to take out his frustrations on his family. For a few years, it was absolute chaos in their household and Wyattâs own temper began to flare as he got older. As a result, Benjamin targeted Wyatt who got the brunt of the rage, ranging from verbal to physical lashings. And though Wyatt had initially intended to stay close to home, his goal once he began applying to college was to get as far away from his father and this hell as he could.
Cambridge, Massachusetts was his new home for the next eight years after he enrolled in Harvard. Starting as an undergraduate student, he worked for a year before going straight to Harvard Law School, completing a joint degree in the Kennedy School. Despite hating what his father had become, Wyatt still ended up following the in his fatherâs footsteps. Following graduation, Wyatt went to D.C. almost immediately. Starting his career off in a law firm, focusing primarily on election law, he transitioned a few years later into working exclusively on campaigns. And for the next decade, his life was absolutely perfect. His name spread on the campaign circuits as the man who could ensure victory. In his own way, Wyatt was continuing the Abhrams legacy. He had found the woman that was the perfect companion for his career, supporting him every step of the way. Yet he was bound to repeat the patterns of the past, no matter how much he tried not to. With time and as the campaigns he was on went to the national stage, Wyatt was absent. This conversation was constantly postponed, and when she asked him for commitment, he was an expert at deflecting. After putting up with his inability to prioritize her and their relationship for years, she finally left him.
It was a sunny May morning, thirty-seventh birthday, when he received a call from his mother who was inconsolable. His father had disappeared, and she did not know what happened to him. No one was able to find him and he was forced to put his life on hold to return home and take care of the issue. After all, the reason he had abandoned his family in the first place was no longer around. And apparently it was his job to try and find him.
Devika shrugged modestly, the effect undercut by the smirk on her face, which was ⊠less modest. Not to mention her confident replyâ âOh, you know Iâm irresistible no matter the climate, but that wasâ something else.â Sheâd hoped that a little wedding sex would make up for everything else sheâd had to put up with that weekend. Unfortunately, even that had ended disastrously. At least Devika had learned that threesomes were not for her â not with two people sheâd never see again, anyway. She wasnât certain she needed to seek out any other permutations, either. In any case, she wouldnât trust a humidity glow, and she wasnât surprised Wyatt had picked up on her feelings. He was often quite perceptive, a skill, she suspected, that had been invaluable in DC. She hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side as though his question required careful consideration. âWell, there was that time with the girl whoâd been over-served ⊠not her fault you were between her and the bathroom.â Given theyâd been out with their friends, none too sober themselves, at the time, Devika didnât actually hold the incident against him, but still, for all his strengths, she wasnât sure sheâd have called Wyatt Abhrams magnanimous.
Truthfully, it was having his company that had made the courtship between their friends even marginally tolerable â heâd been a good friend, and she was glad to have run into him, whatever the reason. Even when he was being ridiculously pompous over what was, by this point, practically an ancient bet. âUh huh. Sure. If thatâs the soundbite weâre running with, I wonât dare tell anyone anything different. Maybe we can forgo the back alley, though? Iâm not sure how many of those there are around town.â Plus, they were starting to reach the ridiculous stage â if they hadnât, already. âOh, come on, you know what I mean. Donât think I havenât noticed you not answering the question, by the way.â | @wyattxabhrams
âTouche.â Wyattâs own smirk only grew wider when she volleyed the ball right back into his court with a quip of her own. His ego perhaps was only rivaled by her own, which was precisely why the two of them had hit it off when they were introduced. While they pegged others as insufferable for their lack of self-awareness ( the irony clearly lost on the duo ), it had been quite refreshing to meet someone who was equally unimpressed with the frills of their friendsâ fairytale romance. Maybe he was a pessimist, or maybe she was just disillusioned. Whichever it was, Wyatt could say that Devika had made a few very late nights and an entirely too long wedding bearable precisely with this humor of hers. Because he figured she was just as unserious as he was about sentimentality. âThe menâs room, I remind you. I was saving all the other guys from your rowdy self.â After all, Wyatt Abhrams would never claim himself to be generous by nature, but he was absolutely argumentative. Not one to let another have the last word.
Taking her point, seeing as Wyatt wasnât one to frequent the back alleys heâd brought up, he looked down at his phone. Heâd finished his workout and from the looks of it, so had she. âHow about I start paying off my debt by treating you to lunch. Donât worry, weâll consider this only a small installment. Iâll securely transfer the other funds to your account immediately after.â After all, she was not wrong that he had lost the bet fair and square. It seemed his skepticism had been beaten by her disillusionment. It was also another way for him to avoid answering the question of what he was doing in town. Because he didnât have a great answer that didnât require delving too deeply into a past that he wasnât sure he wanted to get into in the middle of the gym. | @devikaavyas
The weather was warming and with it, his anxiety was growing. In only a month, it would be nearly a year since his father had disappeared. At times, Wyatt wasnât even sure why he was here. What was the purpose of his presence when all the leads were dead? Was it just so that he could be his motherâs personal errand boy? For a man that he could not have cared less about, he was sacrificing a lot of his life in his pursuit. More years than heâd already wasted chasing his approval. He did not realize there were other people also walking the lake until he stumbled on someoneâs bag on the path. The owner was no where to be found, but unfortunately, the contact with his foot had sent a few items right into the mud. As the woman returned to fetch her items, Wyatt was on the ground attempting to salvage her belongings from the muddy bank. âSorry, is this your stuff? The bag blended in with the ground, so I didnât notice. I think you might have lost a headphone case.â He nodded over to the water, rubbing his thumb and index finger against his temples.
âThe only way Iâd be getting muggedâis if someone found out I was walking around with a briefcase full of cash,â Drew mused before glancing at the taller man, âand since none of my dealings are with physical cash, I just donât see it happening.â He chuckled even if the truth was that they were in the South and Wyatt was rightâstranger things had happened. Especially since there was something going on with the Abhrams patriarch, something he hadnât asked any of the Abhrams about yet. It wasn't that he didnât care of course, he didâeven if it wasnât in the way any of them probably thought it was. He cared because it impacted people heâd deemed as close as family. Otherwise heâd never particularly been fond of Benjamin Abhrams and figured it was probably for the best that the man was goneâout of their lives, hopefully for good.
âSpeaking of stranger things though, you being on my doorstep is one of them as well,â he chuckled before gesturing for the other to step inside his home. He was a minimalist and so the home didnât consist of very much decor yet and he preferred it that way. Of course others could argue that with the bare walls it almost looked like he could leave at any given moment and there would be no indication that he ever even lived thereâbut he preferred it like that. A hollow laugh spilled from Drewâs lips as he heard the otherâs attempt at humor before shaking his head, âyou have no idea how badly it hurt,â especially that afternoon when heâd actually gotten the blow. It was better now and barely visible as the day went on. âHonest about a lot of things,â he chuckled before gesturing for Wyatt to take a seat. âDo you want a beer?â Without waiting for the answer, heâd grabbed two and opened them both in the kitchen before handing one to the other man.
He took a long swig of the drink, wondering how to come out and tell the other why his big brother had decided his face was a good punching bag. âHe didnât know about Waverly,â Drew started, âand he was pretty pissed off that I knew and didnât tell him.â Maybe he should have? But then this was Tessâ news and he couldnât just spring that on his big brother. Sure Ryan could argue that he shouldnât have stepped in then and told the other woman about his accident, but that had been different. He knew Tess would have wanted to know especially considering it was her name on his lips while heâd been in pain. Still he glanced back at Wyatt before shrugging, âI guess he figured that when he leftânone of you bothered to talk to me anymore? I donât knowâŠI didnât wait around after he punched me to ask for the various reasons.â | @wyattxabhrams
Wyatt raised a skeptical brow. âYour phone and credit cards are equally valuable. You donât need to be a film noir character to get mugged these days.â His joke, infused with the characteristic levity that did not suit the moment, did not really answer the question. Or address the fact that Drew did not appear nearly as chipper as Wyatt knew the younger man to otherwise be. Which was fair, seeing as he had just gotten punched in the face by his older brother. For a moment, Wyatt considered what could possibly compel him to do such a thing if he were in Ryanâs shoes. But then, Ryan and Drew had a much different, much healthier, childhood than the Abhrams. Wyatt could not fathom throwing hands at his younger brother, not only because his grip on his temper was generally strong. But also because to do so would carry with it the weight of continuing a cycle he had been subjected to.
Under different circumstances, Wyatt may have commented on the barebones nature of Drewâs apartment. âI figured it was time to collect for all the times you showed up at my doorstep unannounced and lost,â hyperbole at its finest. Drew surely had sought him out in D.C., but it was not necessarily so haplessly as Wyatt was making it out to be. Nonetheless, as he leaned against the kitchen counter, he shrugged. âWell, I ran into Ryan a few weeks ago and heâs really bulked up. So, I can wager a guess as to how badly it hurt. That and the fact that the bruise is still there.â He nodded at the offer for a beer, accepting the can from the other, taking small sip as the other began to recount the reasons for the sudden violence.
And the explanation was surprising and yet understandable? As always, Wyatt had not bothered to ask for the details on why Ryan and Tess split. He did not know the details of their relationship now, but when she got married, he knew that it was not for love. He knew that her marriage had been orchestrated by their father. âItâs not my place to pass judgment,â Wyatt began, taking a seat by the counter and placing his beer down. âNor my place to tell someone how to react to finding out their ex has a kid,â especially not Ryan. He lost that right even more than he did with his siblings the day that he decided to cut ties completely. âI guess the punishment doesnât match the crime in my head,â Wyatt shrugged, his tone flat. As he assured, no judgement stained his observation. âHave you spoken to him since?â | @drewparrish
It was ironic that two decades later, and Wyatt Abhrams was resorting to the same tactics as his childhood self to run from his problems. Or one problem. Benjamin Abhrams. Then he took refuge with at the Parrish house, accepting the company of the one man outside his immediate family that knew what happened in their home. Now, he took refuge in the bed of Reyhan, a woman that knew nothing of the man he was in this town and only as the man heâd become. Yet despite the growth, despite building a name for himself outside of his familyâs, Wyatt could not help but fall into familiar habits as the days crept along.
It had been a few weeks since heâd been frequenting her apartment, seeking out her company on the days that he found his tolerance for staying at home breaking. Her place, simple and reminiscent of his own apartment back in D.C. was the much-needed escape. And as they entangled themselves in the sheets, he found it easier to forget that he was back in his hometown and pretend that they were no where near Georgia. Heâd fallen into a routine without realizing, the evenings together slowly bleeding into the mornings. The more often they met, the easier this transition felt. The sound of the coffee machine droning in the background and the soft hum of jazz woke him up.
It was no surprise that she was already up, her side of the bed empty. And though he was a light enough sleeper that her stirring would have otherwise woken him, he didnât immediately feel when sheâd gotten up and start her day. He learned this about Reyhan. She woke up early and went for a run. The last time heâd woken up here, Wyatt had found the apartment empty as he was leaving. Walking out the bedroom to the aroma of coffee filling her living room, he found her in the kitchen this time. âMorning,â he offered, walking towards her. âI must have really overslept today. I usually donât catch you in the mornings.â
"Are we not? Damn, I was hoping we were in the movies." Sarai feigned disappointment. Although a part of her wasn't sure if it would make for a very exciting film. It wasn't that she wanted to see Jace's life ruined, per se. But a petty part of her was hoping that Wyatt's digging might uncover something that would take Jace down a peg or two. Lord knows his ego could use some deflating. Still, she knew it was probably best not to get her hopes up. Wyatt seemed more curious than vengeful. The thought of spending an extended period of time around Jace made her skin crawl. "How did your father put up with him? Because eww..." She cringed, the mere idea of it making her want to run and scrub herself raw in the shower.Â
She shook her head, annoyance flashing across her features as she recalled her past interactions with Jace. "He just irritates me. Imagine not being able to let shit go over a paper. I mean, I didn't write anything that was slanderous. He's just sensitive." Her brows furrowed as she took another sip of her latte, the warmth doing little to soothe her agitation. "So you're not planning any grand takedowns then?" She asked, disappointment in her tone. "Pity. I was kind of hoping you had some secret plan to expose him as the ass he is." She sighed, setting her cup down and leaning back in her chair. "Guess I'll just have to settle for the small satisfaction of knowing someone else sees through his bullshit too."
Truthfully, Wyatt couldnât really be bothered to do anything against Jace. He suspected Jace had more information about his father than he was letting on, but the eldest Abhrams could also readily recognize that this suspicion could easily have been paranoia. There was no reason that Jace would have known more than he was letting on. It was Wyattâs own desperation to just find his father, dead or alive, and skip town that compelled him to dig more into every single person that heâd come into contact with in the months leading up to his disappearance. With Cas doing something similar, he was committed to finding whatever he could.
As luck would have it, Sarai was able to provide him with precisely what he needed. Or at least a starting off point that would avoid him having to do his own independent digging. As she asked how Benjamin had tolerated Jace, Wyatt shrugged. He nearly said the age old adage, birds of a feather flock together. But he refrained because people in this town didnât know about the Abhramsâ issues with their father. âMy fatherâs never been the best judge of character.â He settled, since that was true too.
Since returning to Covington, life had a funny way of throwing twists and turns at Blair. She had done her best to ease back into her hometown, but between dealing with her father, taking over a business and making it her own, and having to handle the emergence of the feelings surrounding a breakup from twenty years ago - she was beginning to feel like she might need to take a vacation, or at least lock herself away for a few days. She was not a 'take things head on' kind of woman, in fact she was often quite the opposite. If she could avoid her emotions, any conflict at all, she would. And it seemed that, unfortunately, life was not going to give her a break on this cloudy day. The issues started with a noise, a hiccup of sorts, and then a rattle here and there until her care completely gave out on her.
"You have got to be kidding me," she grumbled to herself as she moved her car off to the shoulder of the road. She rested her head on her hands as they gripped the steering wheel and her car seemed to turn itself off. She slowly sighed, attempting to release the bit of stress in her shoulders before she stepped out of her vehicle. She walked around to the front and lifted the hood, attempting to take a look.
As if she knew anything about cars.
She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket - no bars. Of course.
She ran a hand through her hair, attempting to tuck the short locks behind her ears, and looked up and down the road. She spotted a car and was thankful as she noted that it was pulling over for her. She breathed out a further sigh of relief as she took in the full view of the driver.
"If I say both, could you help and give me a ride? I like to think I'm capable of taking care of things myself, buuuut," she dragged out the word, attempting a bit of humor, "Clearly I'm in a bit of trouble."
Being back in Covington naturally meant running into everyone that Wyatt had spent decades trying to avoid. And the more time he spent in this town, as the months crept closer and closer to that one year mark, he found himself getting more and more antsy to leave. Tensions in the house were rising, the concern of their fatherâs disappearance was mounting. And though no one was saying it explicitly, he knew that each and every one of them had already made peace with the possibility that they would be finding his body, not him. Everyone but Delilah, who, to this day, prayed for his safe return. A fact that he could not comprehend, but that Wyatt knew better than to question.
Looking at the state of her car, Wyatt would have loved to pretend that he knew what he could do to fix it. But he didnât. He was not all that handy of a man. He could do a few things here and there, but he would know better than to poke around under the hood of her car and cause more of a mess than she already had. And unlike other fathers who had been teaching their sonâs how to tune up their cars, Wyattâs had taught him how to curry favor with sponsors from when he was a young boy. Skills that, unfortunately, came in handy to this day. But not any that could help them in this situation.
He joined her at the hood, peering into the various machinery that he understood just about as well as she did. Which was why he chuckled and added to her confession with one of his own. âWell, unless you want me ruining it further, the best I can offer is to call a tow truck, so you donât have to abandon it here.â Pulling out his phone, he made a call to one of the few shops in town to request assistance before hanging up. âTheyâll be here in fifteen to twenty minutes. Whereâre you coming back from?â | @blairmoreno
"Flightly?" Eyes bright and dancing with amusement, Bek's smile tightened until what what was left to dangle off the edge of her lips came closer to a smirk. "Well, Abhrams, I guess if you're a bird I'm a bird, too."
After her accident, once she was considered as recovered as she'd ever be and fully capable of living alone, she ran from Covington and kept running.
It was only a wedding that never happened and the heartbreak that followed that saw her returning home. That finally inspired a craving for the kind of comfort and familiarity nowhere but the streets that raised her could bring.
She wasn't sure why he came back, or why he left in the first place, but the fact remained: Wyatt sure as hell wasn't the only one of them likely to find that sort of accusation thrown at their feet.
So with a scoff and a playful roll of her eyes Bek took his ribbing in stride. Mostly, because she saw it for what it was, but also because she couldn't recall a time she'd ever heard Wyatt laugh like that.
It was... nice.
"I realize we never sat around to whisper our deepest, darkest secrets and braid each others hair, but you probably know better than most that I'm not one for seeking attention."
Hadn't they met in the first place because she'd been hiding?
In a rare moment of vulnerable honesty, she shrugged. "Getting up there in front of everyone to be gawked at wasn't easy for me." To willingly invite the risk of judgement, ridicule, or being measured and compared against other, probably more desirable optionsâ It was basically Bek's worst nightmare come true.
"I started the night miserable over the entire concept, yet I'm ending it surprisingly happy at the outcome. How is that not the highest form of compliment?"
Again, her eyes zeroed in on his face. She paused just long enough to sip from her drink. "I'm pretty sure you probably have enough women singing you praises and offering to kneel in worship at your feet." He was Wyatt Abhrams for fuck's sake; being on the receiving end of routine ass-kissing was practically his birthright.
"I highly doubt you're in need of a more thorough ego stroke from the likes of me." | @wyattxabhrams
âReally?â He was intrigued. Their paths only crossed when one or the other was on their way to their next destination. And the conversation had rarely veered towards where they were heading off to next. Or why theyâd moved in the first place. He knew just enough about Bek to consider her a friend. But not enough to understand why she would be equally flighty. âWhy?â Though as he asked the question, Wyatt knew he would not answer if it were posed to him.
Heâd run from the town and its expectations, its disappointments, in search of a clean slate. A place where his surname meant nothing. And Wyatt had found his home. Not in Covington. But he had laid his roots. He wasnât sure if Bek had decided to return to their hometown for good. But had she been running like he was, he wondered if she was also a temporary guest. He knew that between the two of them, his departure was guaranteed. Would their paths end up crossing in another city once again? Or was she bound to Covington now?
Yes, she was not one who sought attention. And Wyatt flouted it only in this town. Having been in the spotlight since he was born, whether on stage or in school, theyâd met at a time when heâd been seeking refuge. As had she. And though neither knew what from, the desire to be hidden was shared. âAnd yet you did. Was it a dare or a New Yearâs resolution?â Because while he agreed that she didnât seek attention, heading up on stage to allow the entire town to bid definitely didnât accomplish that.
âOf course, Iâm thoroughly flattered,â he joked as she retwisted her words that he had first twisted to suit his interpretation. Nevertheless, her ability to do so was impressive. Heâd say she had a future in politics, but Bek said she hated drawing attention to herself.
Though she speculated about his prospects and Wyatt took a sip from his own drink with a shrug. âSure,â he began, not denying that both in Covington and back in D.C., he had a fair share of people trying to pander. For different reasons, but it came with the territory. âBut itâs better when it comes from someone who isnât singing my praises or offering to fall at my feet.â And at this he nodded towards her. | @bekturan
ââm fine,â Lee muttered, a little more gruffly than the suggestion had perhaps warranted. But that was the thing about spending time with Wyatt, the thing that somehow Lee managed to forget whenever he wasnât in his brotherâs presence. Because Wyatt was his big brother, he was the big brother to Tess and Georgie, too. He was used to leading the way. Used to being listened to, used to â well, maybe not being obeyed, but it was clear to Lee there was no question of what Lee should do, what he should care about. It wasnât like the drive to the club was all that long, anyway. Lee remembered those evenings after the sun had gone down, when he wished and hoped and prayed that the drive back to the house would last forever; that they could stay in the car winding through back streets and there wouldnât be any consequences. There were consequences, though, there always were. And WyattâLee shook his head at himself. Wyatt had stopped being a big brother the second heâd left town, the second heâd left them behind. But here he was, still acting like he could stage-direct the minutiae of Leeâs life.
âNo, I play.â He knew, he knew Wyatt had no reason to know that. He knew heâd done his best to prevent this particular topic from ever rising between them. Probably, it would be easier than talking about those last four years before Wyatt had left home. Or, worse, the six years that had followed, when Lee had taken Wyattâs place in the spotlight of Benjamin Abhramâs attention. Still, talking about any of the good parts, trying to recreate them, wouldâve made all the rest stand in clearer relief. Thatâs what Lee had always thought, anyway. And somehow, heâd found himself doing just that â driving to the same club theyâd used to drive to, trying to escape the same house, if not the same occupant. So Lee knew he had no reason to feel frustrated. No justification for the way his fist tightened around the strap of his bag. And yet he couldnât believe that Wyatt would set this whole thing up, and not even know if Lee was still playing tennis. He couldnât believe that the fact that heâd said yes didnât say of course he still played. Because if it wasnât saying that, what had it said to Wyatt? That he was still that little kid, tagging along after his big brother? Desperate for a scrap of positive attention from someone heâd looked up to with all the hope in his rosy-tinted gaze? It was a humiliating prospect, made all the worse for the threads of truth gleaming bright and glaring amidst the rest, and Lee felt like he was crawling out of his skin â it would be nice, right about now, to not also be practically sitting on top of his gear. To have that modicum of extra personal space. He couldnât stand to give Wyatt the satisfaction, though, belated though it might be, so he dug in his bag for a mint.
It was made all the worse by the knowledge that he was putting on a very bad show, right about now. Wyatt was bearing up the brunt of the conversation, and no, he didnât want to share any kind of detail about his life, but he had to say something more than a handful of words at a time. âI was playing a couple times a week back in California. Why, are you worried youâre gonna getââ your ass kicked, he didnât finish. Because Wyatt had done that. More times than Lee knew, probably. Hastily, he popped a newly uncovered mint in his mouth, and substituted, ââshown up? âCause Iâm not gonna go easy on you.â | @wyattxabhrams
Wyatt cast a glance over to the passengerâs side seat where his younger brother was crowded between his bag and the dashboard. âYou sure?â He questioned, clearly unable to understand the insistence of keeping his stuff with him when it made more sense to drop it in the back seat. Wyatt was about to observe that Lee looked uncomfortable, but he held his tongue. The drive to the club wasnât a long one and it was Leeâs prerogative how he chose to spend it. In the past, he might have taken the bags and tossed them behind himself. But now, heâd given a recommendation and left it at that. In professional situations, Wyatt was insistent and steadfast. He ensured that the people he worked for listened to him, explaining his reasoning in excruciating detail until they were convinced. That, or he forced them to rationalize their resistance until he was convinced. Either way, he did drop a subject so easily.
Personally, it was a completely different story. Not once did he question the handful of people in his life on their choices. Rarely did he voice his opinion or offer advice. Especially not his siblings or mother. He had not stopped his concern when he left, but he certainly felt unentitled to voice his opinion when he was a fleeting relationship in their lives. Thus, he never questioned why Tess married a man that their father selected, why Georgie chose to stay back with their parents when it was clear she was unhappy. He had questions, he had thoughts. But each of them remained buried away, silenced because he felt it was not his place. In fact, it was Leeâs choices that Wyatt agreed with the most. Leaving Georgia midway through college and never looking back. It was precisely what Wyatt had done. And it was precisely what he hoped each of his siblings would have done too.
As he received confirmation, Wyatt merely nodded and they were once again shrouded in silence. One that was emblematic of most of his conversations with Lee and Georgie. It did not come as a surprise to him that he didnât have much to say to his youngest sister. After all, heâd barely been in the house during her formative years. He didnât know anything about the experiences in her life except through the few tidbits he got from Tess in their conversations. Unlike Georgie, Lee and him did share childhood memories. They had not been so many years apart that Wyatt hadnât witnessed his younger brother growing up into a young adult. But a handful of childhood memories could not compensate for a lack of communication as adults. Now, their conversations were terse and confined to text messages exchanged on occasion. A sharp contrast to how things had been when they were younger.
And even when he recognized that, Wyatt did not see a point in trying to push beyond the equilibrium theyâd established. What difference would it make to try? None of them were here for long. They would each fall right back into their old lives once their father was found. And it might not have been the warmest relationship, but it was one that worked for them. Why attempt to fix something that was merely chipped, not broken? Wyatt had long understood and accepted that they were not the family their father held them out to be during his campaign speeches around the town. Once upon a time they were. In an alternate reality, they might still be. But in this one, they were five separate individuals, bound together by a shared surname and the acceptable level of concern that came with that.
Or maybe, it was only Wyatt who was the separate entity. One whoâd severed ties definitively enough that attempting to rebuild them would be futile.
Lee spoke up, continuing the small talk and Wyatt nodded slightly. California. He knew that. Lee had mentioned it at some point, and yet in his head, Wyatt couldnât place when his younger brother had been in the state, or for how long. Was it recent? He assumed yes. âIâm not too worried,â he said with a touch of humor and the confidence he typically projected with everyone. âBut Iâm glad I asked. I wonât hold back either then. Loser buys,â he was about to say beer. But then he recalled that Lee was sober. So he offered an alternative. âMom's lavender.â | @leeabhrams
As he stepped forward, Reyhan instinctively took a step back, feeling her back gently hit the balcony ledge behind her. She had no intention of walking away from him, but it just felt... daring in a way, and as his long fingers took a strand of her wavy hair and tucked behind her ear, she found herself swallowing hard in response. Her body reacted to his brief touch, eyelids fluttering shut for a second there as his fingertips ghosted against her skin. Her lips parted slightly, drawing in a breath and letting out a pleasing sigh in response. It almost felt like that small action had been enough to send a wave of electricity along her body.
Blue.
His blue hues towered over hers, invitingly, daringly, overwhelmingly. It was cold indeed, but her body felt hot in his presence, almost as if Wyatt knew exactly what to do to flip the switch inside her. Her fingertips itched to reach up and caress the nape of his neck, or to scratch his perfectly shaved beard. The tie had not been an excuse, but now, it would have been the perfect time to wrap her fingers around the fabric and pull him close, close the gap between their mouthsânot that they were that much distant in the first place.
She was cold, but those goosebumps had been provoked by the thought of his lips on her skin, his hands pressing onto her hips, his beard tickling placed covered by the red fabric of her dress... weren't they? It couldn't have been the wind, or the face that her skin was pressed against cold marble. Not at all.
God damnit that crooked smirk.
Reyhan had noticed it before. Not only tonight, but the other times they had met... the Wyatt Abhrams smirk. The one she had trademarked it in her head, and the one that was making her short of breath right now. "It is." She replied, a shaky breath escaping her lips and at that moment, Reyhan knew she couldn't deny his influence on her. She would be pathetic to do so. Her mind began clouding for a second there, hands reaching up to his waist line, to tug on the lapels of his suit jacket, as if trapping him to her embrace just as he had trapped her on the balcony. Instinctively, Reyhan inched closer, her body almost pressed to his.
"I'd like that very much." Just like him, her gaze never faltered from his blue hues. Well... they might have, when she nodded in response to his question and her dark orbs glanced at his pink lips for a second there, her throat again going dry at the mere thought of having a taste of his lips. "Let's go." Finally, she gave his jacket one final tug, before letting go of it almost as immediately as his hands dropped to his sides, thus freeing her from that overwhelmingly warm trap he'd set up for her. / @wyattxabhrams
The way her gaze caught his, for that split second, she almost believed his words, but Reyhan knew better than to believe men who looked like him and who were as smart as him. White men like Wyatt, carried the world in the palm of their hands. Men like him had little toys as distractions since they were kids and tended to get possessive with those, only to change toys as they shifted their attention to something else, or, better yet, someone else.
And yet... she almost believed him.
There was something about the way Wyatt Abhrams carried himself that made her feel like he could sell her a nice vacation in an igloo and she would be perfectly happy with her choice. He was enticing, enthralling and not only that, but he was also so great with his words that Reyhan second-guessed her sharp perception and almost let herself buy what he was selling. That, however, wasn't the worst part of it all.
The worst part was that she wanted to believe his words.
Reyhan caught herself trying to hide a little smile as she rolled her eyes at his words. She didn't want to seem naive to him, but catching the attention of someone who could clearly have anyone else in the room and yet, chose to spend his time with her, definitely prompted a little twist up from her lips. "You're full of charm tonight, aren't you?" Not only tonight. She knew that for sure, having had the opportunity to chat with Wyatt in other gatherings in Atlanta. "I appreciate it. A little stroke on the ego has never hurt anyone."
His joke, however, stole a soft chuckle from her lips. "You know... the kidney I could do without, but the newborn would have to wait until another lifetime. Would a cat suffice?" While she understood that no, he wasn't asking for a kidney, let alone a newborn, it just felt like a funny retort to give. Right? Reyhan could be funny sometimes without getting lost in her own thoughts about how illogical she was being. Right? But then again... she really did want to adopt a cat someday... "Wait. Can I take it back? You can't have a cat either." And by the end of her sentence, of course, the joke had run its course and Reyhan was left feeling a tad bit stupid in return, which was the perfect opportunity for the brunette to simply step outside and welcome the cold breeze.
She could feel her entire body vibrating with excitement, even after moments had passed between her conversation with Walter Harrison and now. It was like electrical charges coursed through her veins, making her beam with happiness as she leaned onto the balcony and closed her eyes for a moment. Reyhan drew in a breath, as if the cold night air would be able to steam down her lungs and cool her off for a bit. The steam of her exhale was still dissipating in front of her face when she opened her eyes and turned around to face Wyatt, noticing a slight change she hadn't noticed before.
"They're blue." She stated, plain and simple, as if he needed no explanation to what she had just said. As if that didn't make her seem like some kind of lunatic. It brought yet another soft chuckle to her lips. "You eyes, I mean." Setting her glass on the balcony, Reyhan reached up and gently adjusted his tie, who's knot was slightly crooked, and letting her fingers linger there for longer than they should. "The light of the moon is making them blue. I like it. It suits you better." / @wyattxabhrams
Wyatt raised a brow in silent acceptance. From the outset, he did not shy from acknowledging that he was being complimentary towards her. Throughout the evening, heâd peppered in flattery amid conversation. While she outwardly minimized his praise, chalking it up to charm, the upward tilt at the corners of her lips, the amused glint in her eye, were proof enough. His words had their intended impact. Reyhan returned his repartee, and he chuckled in turn. âMight depend on the cat.â After all, he wasnât quite a pet person. A moment later, she returned to the same topic and Wyatt couldnât help his amusement at how seriously she seemed to consider the humorous hypothetical. And though the joke had run its course, he humored her addendum in their imaginary exchange. âNo kid, no cat. That leaves only the kidney.â Â
It was pleasant. Despite the obvious chill in the air that cut through even his suit jacket, the breeze was refreshing. And as he appreciated the moment of separation from the crowds, her matter-of-fact statement drew his attention back to her. He met her thoughtful gaze with a creased brow and bemusement. Blue? As though understanding his silent question, she laughed to herself, furthering his own interest. What about the color blue was funny? Her reply was unexpected. And for the second time that night, Wyatt found Reyhan in close proximity. The first had been accidental. A welcome happenstance that it was his arms sheâd stumbled into. This was deliberate.
A few short strides brought her before him. While she admired the hue of his eyes under the moonlight, he admired the way the same illuminated her sharp features. The color of her lips matched the flush on her cheeks. Presumably, from the chill in the air. Though Wyatt might have dared be more presumptuous that night as she adjusted his tie. He waited for her gaze to meet his once more as she finished her thought. âItâs not the moon.â It was his turn to be precise for what was intended as a compliment. Or maybe his way of clarifying. âTheyâre always blue.â Therefore, theoretically, she should always like them. Â
Her fingers lingered for a second longer than necessary, much like his gaze had the entire night. Wyatt discarded his drink on the balcony ledge as well, taking a few steps of his own. His free hand caught a loose curl of her hair. Was his tie crooked? Perhaps. Was her hair out of place? Not really. But he was returning the favor. And testing his luck. Letting the strand catch between his fingers, a moment later, he brushed it back into place. His fingertips grazing the curve of her cheek, he tucked the loose tress behind her ear. The back of his hand brushed against the nape of her neck barely. Ostensibly innocent. She had fixed his tie. He adjusted her hair. It was escalation only if she wished it to be.
âYouâre cold,â he observed, voice just loud enough for her to hear. They stood close. Enough that his pitch didnât need to compensate for the buzz of the conversation inside. Enough that he could see the goosebumps dotting her exposed shoulder. Another detail revealed courtesy of the moonlight. âItâs,â he paused, elongating the last consonant while searching for his next word, lip curving up slightly as he repeated himself, âcold.â His hand fell onto the balcony railing, inches from where hers hung by her side. Without diverting his gaze, he nodded towards the ballroom behind them. âAnd Iâve had enough of this party.â As had she, he suspected. âDo you want to head out?â The âwith meâ silent. Implied, but unspoken, for all the same reasons his actions were always calculated. Plausible deniability. | @reyhansolmaz
Georgie had been through this song and dance a few times before, with her inability to keep track of her epipens and a proclivity towards a few too many cocktails at brunch, this wasn't the first time she'd ended up in the hospital. It was, however, the first time she'd ended up in the hospital with one of her siblings experiencing the whole catastrophe. And in truth, she'd never in a million years believe the sibling she'd be rushed to the hospital by would be Wyatt. Was this the universe's way of telling them their attempts at quality sibling bonding was for naught? Should they give up and just let things fall where they may? Maybe. But Georgie had been waiting for what felt like her entire life for Wyatt to just notice her. For him to care about her like he did about Tess and Lee. And now that she had his attention and that concern etched into his brows? She wasn't going to let something like near death deter her. She was an Abhrams after all.
"You have people for that?" She asked with a snort of a laugh, head shaking in amusement. "You mean like the people who made the pesto? Those people?" She teased, though her smile fell slightly at the mention of their mother. "You're right. Delilah's long game is to just break me down until I off myself." She mused, though the way she wrung her hands together gave away the emotions she tried so hard to keep at bay when it came to the matriarch.
However, when he brought up Tess her quiet laughter couldn't be stopped. Out of all of their siblings, Tess was the one Georgie was most afraid of disappointing. Despite their... volatile relationship throughout their lives, Tess was more of a mother to her than Delilah ever was. "You mean you don't want to face her wrath. Chicken." She grinned. "Can't say I blame you though, she scares me, too." The last part of her sentence was whispered conspiratorially, though her amused sparkle faded away at his next question and she reached out to gently take one of his hands into her own. "I'm fine. Never better, really. You'll have to try harder to send me six feet under." She teased. "You okay? I think you got a few new wrinkles in the last couple hours." ( @wyattxabhrams )
It was pathetic, wasnât it? If anyone else saw them, theyâd say they were pathetic, right? Just over an hour ago, the eldest and youngest Abhrams had been sitting in their kitchen, utterly silent, a palpable awkwardness between them. Without the buffer of another family member, he had absolutely no idea what to say to her. They were fine in a group. Theyâd made conversation at Tessâs wedding. Heâd spoken with her in D.C. as well. It wasnât like they never had one on one conversations. But there was always a topic. Lee not drinking. Tess not showing. Terri. An external catalyst. Stripped of their conversational crutches, it was pathetic that once again, an external force in the form of her near-death experience prompted natural conversation.
Would their relationship had looked different if life had been softer to them? If their parents had been kinder? Or was trying to blame their fragmented relationship on their parents a cop out? After all, only Wyattâs relationship with his siblings suffered. They were all fine amongst themselves. He had been too. He cracked a smile, in part due to relief, in majority due to her teasing. âI donât reveal my contacts for free.â Paired with a shrug, it was hard to miss that the mere mention of their mother dampened her mood. A reality heâd only become privy to when he started living with them both again. And it was because he experienced being on the receiving end of torment that would drive one to speak as she did that Wyatt did not utter platitudes about their mother not wishing that upon her youngest daughter. Their relationship and Georgieâs feelings towards it were hers to feel. Â
Instead, he kept the conversation on topics that they both could agree on. People they were both fond of. Their sister. âIâve received one too many threatening voice mails that sounded like they were on two times speed to know better than to test my luck with her.â This, this was easy. âIâll give you a spoon of peanut butter directly next time.â As she took her hand into his, giving him reassurance that she was both okay and not accusatory, Wyatt kept with the humor theyâd settled into, giving her a nod. âIâm fine. Funny enough, this wasnât my first time having someone almost die on me.â Working with geriatric candidates who had no business running for office would do that. Though he embellished a little. âLetâs go?â As he collected her things, he gave her a look. âYou still hungry?â Seeing as she hadnât actually eaten the meal that almost killed her. âWeâll get you something less lethal.â | @georgie-abhrams
location: the sipping cup
status: closed for @wyattxabhrams
Most attorneys hated motions practice. They preferred showboating in a courtroom, wowing a jury with all of the salacious details they were able to dig up on one person or another. But Jamie enjoyed the level of detail required to petition the court in writing. He was good at it. He could put into words legal arguments the other side would struggle to disprove, cite cases others seemed to forget and make points that, often, had the entire case thrown out before a jury was even seated.Â
Unfortunately, as much as he loved his hometown, Covington was not the kind of place where he could hide away and write his briefs in peace. His family filled their house with a kind of constant chatter that, while sometimes comforting, made it impossible to focus. The coffee shop, which heâd imagined might have a corner he could hole up in for a while to knock out his work, was similarly loud, filled with locals who had clearly never been taught to use inside voices. Jamie glared at a particularly loud offender from behind his laptop for a moment before deciding there wasnât much point in trying to continue; he wasnât going to finish today.Â
A few minutes later, while waiting on his order, he spotted the face of an old friend â possibly the only old friend who would understand his frustration. âWyatt,â he greeted the other man with a nod, âDidnât think youâd be back in Covington.â He supposed the other man might be just as surprised to find him there. The last time theyâd spoken, theyâd been working on Mayor Boydâs campaign in New York, each of them striving to prove they were worth the opportunity theyâd been given.Â
These days, when his name was spoken with such familiarity, Wyatt tensed. It was either Delilah tasking  him with completing some new inane request of hers or it was a ghost of his past coming. If neither, it was a well intentions, albeit it nosey, townsperson wanting to speculate on the whereabouts of his vanished father. Either way, Wyatt was not all that receptive to being accosted in public spaces. Recently he had considered just leaving Covington for a bit. There were plenty of nights he didnât come home at all. The pressure of returning to the town heâd sworn off too great. Instead, he found solace in the homes of others who neither questioned him, nor addressed him with the familiarity that came with expectations. But these days, even that was proving to not be enough. The separation that he preferred to maintain between himself and the town was closely closing. The walls would need to be reestablished, and soon.
Tapping his foot, he once more tensed as his name was called. Turning to see who his assailant would be this time, Wyatt found himself face to face with James Bennett. Under other circumstances, he would have been surprised to see the other man. However now, after having seen a number of familiar faces he never expected to return to Covington, his included, Wyatt expressed no astonishment over yet another. Apparently, for natives like them, Covingtonâs siren call could be heard no matter how far they ran. And if memory served him right, Jamie did not really have the aversion for this town that Wyatt did.
âBarely. Iâm just a temporary guest,â he responded with the ease that heâd gained from repeating the same line a number of times. âThough Iâd say the same for you. What happened? Big Law burn you out? Last I checked,â which he did. Jamie was, even if he would disagree, one of the first people that Wyatt mentored. And Wyatt did not take that many people under his wing. So naturally, he kept tabs on what the younger man was up to. âYou were at Skadden. Heard the DC office is much nicer, but your judgment was always a tiny bit off.â The good-natured joshing came out naturally in the presence of an old friend. One who had sought Wyatt out for the man heâd transformed into, not the one that Benjamin had molded him to be. | @jamiebennettx
It took everything in Roman not to ask about Wyattâs distaste for Covington. He wondered why Wyatt was even here if he disliked it so much. He didn't take it personally, though. He knew small town life wasn't for everyone. "Westchester's great, but I donât have friends there. Connecticut, too. New Hampshire's a little too remote for my taste.â He also wanted diversity and Covington had that. He knew all too well the appeal of citiesâhe'd lived in one his whole life after all. But after taking in Ivy, his priorities were different. The fast pace and crowds of New York didn't seem like the right environment to raise a young child. He wanted Ivy to have space to run around, clean air, sleepovers with her friends who lived just a few streets away. The transition from Manhattan to rural Georgia was a big change, yet he wouldnât change it for the world.Â
"The company's still based in New York. I go up once a month or so to check in. I suppose Iâm lucky to be able to work remotely most of the time.â As for why Covington specifically, he added, "Like I said, I have a friend here." What he neglected to say was, he also had an ex-girlfriend in town. But that was irrelevant to their conversation. Roman studied Wyatt curiously. He seemed like an open-minded guy, yet oddly opposed to Covington. There must be more to it than just preferring cities over small towns. But he didn't want to pry. "Thatâs true, but there's a lot to do in the area. Hiking, fishing, golf. You canât do that in Manhattan.â He paused, clearing his throat before the question that was at the tip of his tongue came out, âThis might be none of my business, but why are you here if you hate this place?â Okay, maybe he was going to pry, after all. He couldnât help it, he truly wanted to know why Wyatt disliked Covington so much.
Wyatt nearly laughed at the otherâs characterization. âNew Hampshire is remote? But Covington is so happening, right?â Again, it wasnât like Wyatt was purposefully trying to question his move or suggest that it was the wrong choice. Okay, maybe the latter part a bit. Covington was great, but leaving a business and a life in New York to relocate to the middle of Georgia for clean streets and something less remote than New Hampshire? Frankly felt foolish to the advisor, but he didnât question it anymore. âAs long as youâre happy with it, I guess,â he responded with a perfunctory shrug of acceptance. After all, he did not need to get a reputation as someone who chased people out of the town. Besides, Wyatt himself did not intend to be here much longer. His trips back to D.C. were already getting more regular. As soon as they discovered where his father was, he would be on the first flight right back to D.C. to never look back at Covington again.
âMust be nice to run a company without needing to actually be on site. Do your employees also get to work remotely? Or is that the perk of being a founder?â His tone was twinged with a touch of irony. It was the perk of being his own boss of course. Wyatt too, working as an independent contractor, had the flexibility to pack up his life and come back to Covington, didnât he? Were he still a salaried employee or law firm associate, he would never have had the option to travel between the two cities. âSomeone local?â He questioned, when the other emphasized the main reason that drove him to this town. His friend. Were Wyatt closer to the man he might have told him to find better friends. Who suggested a move away from New York to come to Covington of all places? Someone insane, or who lacked taste. Then again, Roman also purportedly loved it. So birds of a feather?
Roman continued to prattle off the reasons that Covington was so great and while Wyatt had a counter example to each, he had no business listing the many cities around the country he visited that offered better hikes and golf. Say, California? When Roman, very reasonably, asked him about his distaste, Wyatt gave him a forced, sarcastic smile. âApparently to get coffee spilled all over me,â he waved the hand that had been burned by Romanâs coffee as a reminder. âAs I said, Iâm not here long. I too have relationships that led me astray and brought me here.â | @romanwagncr
Sarai slid the file across the table to Wyatt as they sat at the Sipping Cup. They had realized during their conversation the other day that they shared a common adversaryâJace Harlow. She wouldn't describe herself as vindictive, but when Wyatt had asked for a copy of the scathing profile she'd written about Jace back in college, she decided to oblige. It wasn't that she hated Jace, per seâhe just irritated her to no end, especially since he was sleeping with one of her best friends. She honestly never understood what Georgie saw in him.
"Here's the paper," she said, sipping her latte as she passed him the file. "You still haven't told me what you have planned for him. Are you going to make his life a living hell or something?" She didn't actually care if Wyatt went after Jace, but her natural curiosity compelled her to ask. A part of her hoped Wyatt would stir up trouble for the insufferable Jace. It would serve him right.
Accepting the file that she had, Wyatt looked up at Sarai when she questioned his intentions with the article that she was sharing with him. For a second, he studied her features for any indication that she was joking. Maybe a glint in her eye to suggest that she was just pulling his leg. Yet her expression was resolute and curious. As though she really expected him to unveil some master plan on how he intended to, to use her words, âmake his life a living hell or something.â Taking another pause, Wyattâs shoulders shook with laughter as opened the manilla folder and pulled out the article. Folding it into thirds, he slipped in into the inside pocket of his coat.
âJust because weâre exchanging information in manilla folders, doesnât mean weâre in a movie, Sarai.â He was only teasing of course, but her suggestion that he was out for Jaceâs blood was humorous to him. Wyatt could only wonder what she imagined that he would do with the article that she shared. At most if there was something damning enough, he could share it with the Georgia Bar Association. But at the end of the day, Wyatt was not seeking Jaceâs downfall. They were not sworn enemies, nor did he care to make the manâs life a living hell, as she so eloquently phrased. He had his suspicions about the man and was just running those down. âHeâs worked for my father in the past, so I was just curious about his. Nothing nefarious going on in my head. Though, sounds like it maybe is in yours?â Taking a sip from his coffee, he raised a curious brow. âWhat did he do to you that youâre so vengeful?â | @saraiayutthaya
âThe humidity glow made you too irresistible, huh?â Devika joked. âBig of you to give that up.â She was g glad to see that despite everything had changed in her life (and likely his, as well,) the sense of humor theyâd shared in New York was the same as ever â or at least, they could fall into the same wisecracking pattern. âHm, well, I think you do. I think you remember every excruciating â sorry, joyous â second of that doomed wedding we both somehow stood up for â and seriously, what were they thinking with that choice, itâs like they wanted to curse their unionââ Devika paused, barely, for breath, before she reached the crux of the thing, ââA union, by the way, that you bet wouldnât last a year. To which I countered six months. I know you werenât there to experience all the joys of the fallout firsthand, but you mustâve heard. So: four months three weeks five days means I was right, and you owe me money.â This, she punctuated with a drink from her water bottle. âI accept cash, checks, venmo, zelle, cashapp âŠâ
As serious as Devika was about collecting on that bet, and very much was that, first on her mind was the mystery of it all. âNot that Iâm not happy to see you, but jokes aside and everything, what brings you to my small Georgia town?â | @wyattxabhrams
Wyattâs smile widened at her quip and his brow raised teasingly. âSpeaking from personal knowledge?â Seeing as the wedding they both had the misfortune? displeasure? of attending had been in Florida in the summer. There had been quite a bit of âhumidity glowâ that she spoke of. âWhen have you known me to be anything but magnanimous.â Strange as it was to run into Devika in Covington, a surprising fact that Wyatt very much intended to interrogate her on, she was among the more welcome faces from his past. Truthfully, anyone he had not grown up with in town would be a welcome change for the eldest Abhrams. He was getting tired of seeing people gossiping about him and his family wherever he went. But, Devika and Wyatt had always shared a good relationship, commiserating over their mutual uncertainty about the longevity of their friendsâ marriage. One that she was reminding him of given that the bet theyâd wagered came out in her favor. Her excessive pessimism beat his strong skepticism.
His amusement grew as her word choice matched his own for how he would describe the entire ceremony. Excruciating. She was being kind to only speak of the wedding. Heâd have given the entire relationship that title. He shrugged, in part because he was feigning ignorance of the entire bet, and in part because he did not know what his friend, or hers, were thinking in planning their not-so-shotgun-shotgun wedding. âBefore we settle the books on this alleged debt, Iâll have you know that I do not condone the wagering of bets. It corrupts the fabric of our great nation,â an aside that she hadnât asked for. âBut to the extent I do owe you money, Iâm more of no paper trails, cash hand-off guy. Preferably in a back alley.â Devika beat him to the question he intended to ask, and that too with the confidence that he remembered she possessed. âYour small Georgia town? I didnât realize you could own a town. When did you make the purchase?â | @devikaavyas
