"As the days drew closer to your delivery date, my dad lost his job. My mom had been forced to sign us up for food stamps just so we could eat. They were fighting all the time and I knew it was because they were scared. Soon there would be another mouth to feed. A baby who would need diapers and formula and child care if I was going to finish school. I didn't want that for you. I didn't want you to live the life I had been living. I wasn't ready to be a mom and I wanted you to have more. I loved your father. You were a product of that love. It took me until I held you for the first time to realize I couldn't do this to you. I couldn't take you home to the life I could give you. It wasn't enough." She paused and took a deep breath. "I kissed your fat little cheeks, then handed you to the nurse and told her I couldn't keep you. To find you a good home."

I sat there and stared at Glenda. Her story made sense. Sixteen-year-olds weren't ready to be parents. I felt sorry for her, and she had been young enough to believe that handing me over was a better option. Maybe if my adopted father and brother hadn't been killed, then it would have. My mother may not have snapped mentally if they had lived.

"I'd like to meet your family," I finally said.

A grin broke across her face. "I would love that. Thank you, Della."

Woods

I walked over to the bar and took the glass of bourbon that Mitch, the club's bartender, pushed my way. It was after-hours and I was expecting someone. He'd texted me an hour ago.

Just as I lifted the glass to my lips, Grant walked in the door and scanned the room until he found me at the bar. He had been out of town more than usual this year. It was summertime. He should have been in his condo, living it up in Rosemary.

"Give me one of those, Mitch," Grant said as he approached the bar, and leaned against it before looking at me. "I'm back. What's up?"

"Where have you been?" I asked.

His mouth was in a firm, set line before he gave in and let out a sigh. "You don't want to know," he said, then took a long swig of the bourbon.

That meant he'd been with Nan. There was a story there I wasn't sure I wanted to know. Grant was Rush's best friend. They were like brothers. Rush's mom had been married to Grant's dad when they were kids. The marriage only lasted a few years but they bonded. What no one expected was for Grant and Nan, Rush's half sister, to do anything more than fight. They fought when they were kids and they fought now. Grant was a good guy. Nan was the world's second-biggest bitch. Angelina was the first.

"Nan," I said simply.

Grant took another swig and handed the glass back to Mitch. "Another," he replied.

"That's twenty-three-year-old Kentucky bourbon. It's meant to be sipped and enjoyed, not thrown back like a shot of cheap tequila," I pointed out.

"You're an elitist, Woods. Kiss my ass. I need more alcohol."

"Anyone who spends five minutes with Nan needs alcohol. The question is, why the hell do you do it?"

Grant threw back his second glass of bourbon and then looked over at me. "Not talking about her tonight. Why did you call me? What is going on?"

Good. I didn't really want to know about Nan anyway. If she came back to town, Rush was gonna be pissed. He loved his sister, but she hated his wife. So Nan had drawn a line and Rush had stayed on Blaire's side. Nan's coming back to Rosemary wouldn't be cool. I'd hoped she was staying in LA with her daddy. She'd recently found out the man she had grown up thinking was her father was not. Her real father was the lead singer of Slacker Demon. Apparently, Rush's momma liked sleeping with the band back in the day.

"I fired the board. I'm choosing my own. My father's board isn't for me. I want you on my new one."

Grant set down his glass and stared at me a minute. "What did you just say?"

"The club has a board of directors. The old one has been let go. Will you be on my new board?"

Grant motioned for Mitch to refill his glass. "Damn, I'm glad I'm back. Crazy shit happens here all the time. No place is as drama-ridden as Rosemary. Not even f**king LA."

"Does this mean yes, you will be on my board?" I asked, taking a sip of my bourbon.

Grant grinned over at me. "Hell yeah, I will."

I knew he would. That made four. I still needed to talk to a few more. "I have paperwork in my office for you to fill out. But tonight, let's drink. I need a distraction."

Grant pulled out a stool and sat down. "Where's Della?"

I had been expecting this question but hearing her name jolted me. She had met with her birth mother today. Braden was supposed to call me tonight and let me know how it went. I was anxious and needed to think about something else until I got that call.

"She left." I couldn't bring myself to explain anything else.

"She left? What the f**k did you do?"

"Screwed up. Missed some signs I should have noticed. Got too busy to see what she needed. Smothered her." There was a long list of things I had realized I was guilty of.

"Damn. Last I saw you two, you were worshipping at her altar. How the hell did it go south so fast?"

"It's not over. I'm waiting. She'll come back. I'm letting her decide if she can do this. In the meantime, I'm drinking a lot and living for phone calls from Tripp."

Grant put his glass down and let out a low whistle. "Ah, hell no. She left with Tripp?"