Chapter 25: Never The Best: Chapter 25

I didn’t want to go to the damn Savannah Soirée for Hope, but Vanderbilt Finance was their biggest sponsor. This was one of the initiatives I’d chosen to back when I launched my company. My CFO liked to remind me it was a great tax deduction, but for me, it was far more personal. It was one of the ways I was trying to atone for what I’d done to Pearl.

Looking back on my life, I was still amazed at how much that single act of cruelty against Pearl had shaped me. At seventeen, I’d been a selfish, careless asshole—one who barely thought about the consequences of his actions. It took me years to grow up. I was more responsible and thoughtful, but now, with Pearl back in my life, it was like I’d leapfrogged to a whole new level of accountability.

I first began to support the Savannah Soirée for Hope annual charity because it was aimed at raising funds and awareness for critical issues affecting the local and regional community. Each year, the event focused on a specific cause, and this year, it was to support reading initiatives for underprivileged children. The soirée brought together Savannah’s elite, philanthropists, and local community leaders for an elegant evening of cocktails, dinner, and live entertainment.

This year, it was being held at the Harper Fowlkes House, a stunning Greek Revival mansion built in 1842. The house boasted a grand ballroom with soaring ceilings, elegant chandeliers, and original hardwood floors. It was surrounded by a picturesque garden courtyard, offering both indoor and outdoor spaces for guests to mingle and enjoy the evening.

By the time I got there, I was late because I had to make sure Aunt Hattie was with Pearl, and then I had to go home to put on my monkey suit. Aunt Hattie had declined to attend, so I could. Even four weeks after her nervous breakdown, we were taking turns being with Pearl. I was working from her home office whenever needed, but mostly, I’d told my team I was taking time off. Those who worked closely with me were shocked because I wasn’t the type who did that—but then, I’d never had a girlfriend who needed me to care for her.

Pearl Beaumont was my girlfriend!

That thought lightened my mood almost instantly. Sure, we were starting weirdly—I lived with her and slept beside her—but it felt so fucking right.

This year, the soirée featured a silent auction showcasing art, travel experiences, and luxury items donated by local businesses and sponsors. A live jazz band was playing, and I looked around for the organizer. When I found Emily Latham, I quickly made my way to her.

She hugged me and grinned wide. “Isn’t everything amazing?”

“It certainly is. Thank you so much for all that you do.”

“None of this could happen without you.” Emily was in her late forties and had been doing this kind of work her whole life. I had a tremendous amount of respect for her. She wasn’t part of the Savannah elite. Instead, she came from, as she joked, the wrong side of the tracks and fleeced the wealthy and snobbish Savannah elites for money to help her old neighborhoods. I was all in with her efforts.

I supported this charity because of Emily. She made sure that the Savannah Soirée for Hope was more than an evening of glitz and glamour—it was a celebration of community, compassion, and the power of collective action to change lives. The fact that it was popular as an event at which to be seen, and that the rich came to show themselves off, was fine with me, as long as they were generous with their checkbooks.

After talking to Emily, I wound up near the bar, nursing a glass of bourbon I didn’t even want, while I half-listened to Gabe Rhodes and Noah Carter talk about the Savannah Bridge project that Carter Construction was working on in partnership with Savannah Lace.

“How’s Pearl doing?” Gabe asked me during a lull in his conversation with Noah. “I hope it’s okay that Aurora told me what happened.”

“Of course. Pearl’s better.”

He put a hand on my shoulder. “I hear that you’re taking care of her. Took a leave of absence yourself.”

My jaw clenched. Savannah was a small fucking gossipy town. I waited for Gabe to say whatever he was going to say. He’d been a mentor of sorts, since he was older than me, but mentor or not, if he said anything untoward about Pearl, I was in a bad enough mood to hurt the son of a bitch.

“I’m very impressed,” he finished with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’ve been where you are,” Noah added but didn’t expound. “It’s not easy to see the woman you love struggling. So, if you want to talk, reach out.”

I felt like an idiot for thinking these men, good men, would insult Pearl.

“Thanks, Noah. I will.” I meant it.

I managed to eat some appetizers, but I really wanted to finish the speech part of the evening, where I introduced the keynote speaker, and headed home to Pearl.

I smiled at that thought. I smiled a lot when I thought about her.

“How’s it going, Rhett?” Luna found me at my table and gave me a quick hug.

“Good,” I murmured, but before I could say more, I heard someone mention Pearl.

“Oh, Pearl, bless her heart,” Dixie May said, loud enough for half the guests to hear. “She can’t hold a man, can’t hold a meal. It’s tragic.”

Luna stiffened.

Rage seared my insides.

Josie, Caroline, Dixie May, and Birdie were holding court in a little circle of snide smiles, two tables away. Their laughter carried across to me like nails on a chalkboard.

Alice was nearby, sitting at their table with her phone. She was scrolling through it, clearly trying to escape the social hellscape Caroline had dragged her to. She glared at Dixie May and was about to get up when I caught her attention and shook my head. She sat down, but grudgingly, looking militant.

“She’s always been such a drama queen.” Birdie Beaumont, Pearl’s fucking mother, entered the melee, and spoke as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. According to Aunt Hattie, she had called to check up on Pearl, only to complain about how she’d become the talk of the town with her ridiculous disease.

The laughter that followed was sharp and cruel.

I saw Josie smirk as she added, “At least she isn’t fat any longer.”

I didn’t even realize I was moving until I was standing right in front of them, my jaw clenched so tight it felt like it might snap.

“Stop,” I said, my voice cutting through their laughter like a blade.

Josie turned, her perfect, practiced smile faltering when she saw me. “Rhett,” she said, blinking up at me with wide, feigned innocence. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong,” I snapped, “is the fact that you’re tearing down someone who’s been through hell, as if it’s some kind of sport for you.”

The room quieted, heads turned toward us, but I didn’t care. Let them all hear.

“Pearl almost died.” I was taking no prisoners tonight. “You know this, Josie, because Maddie told you. Did you know Pearl nearly lost her life because of what this disease did to her? Because of the years of cruelty and judgment she endured from people like you and me?”

Josie’s face paled, but before she could stammer a response, I turned to Birdie.

“And you,” my voice hardened. “You’re her mother, and you have no compassion for your child who almost died and is struggling with a dangerous disease? How many times did you tell her she wasn’t enough when she was young? That she wasn’t thin enough, pretty enough? How many times did you make her feel like her only value was in her appearance?”

Birdie’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. However, her expression said, the nerve.

I scanned the women. “Where the hell is your decency? You’re standing here making fun of Pearl like she’s a joke. You say she’s pathetic. I have news for y’all. The only pathetic people I see here are you.”

Caroline stepped forward, her face flushed with embarrassment. “Rhett, that’s enough,” she snapped, her voice sharp.

“Not nearly,” I retorted. “People like you keep getting away with tearing people down so you can feel superior. Well, enough is fuckin’ enough.”

“Rhett, control yourself.” Cash used his I’m a Big Man voice.

I ignored him.

I looked at Dixie May, who didn’t look as smug as she had moments ago. “Do you even hear yourselves?” I demanded. “Do you realize how vile you sound? Or are you so far gone you don’t even care?”

The silence that followed was deafening.

I turned, letting my gaze land on Cash, who stood by his wife. He was puffing up his chest to let me have it.

Well, I got first dibs, asshole.

“And you.” I literally pointed a finger at him. “Your sister almost died, and you didn’t even notice. How does that make you feel?”

Cash’s mouth opened, but I cut him off. “Save it. We all know you’re not the concerned brother since you’ve allowed your mother and your wife to take potshots at Pearl. Does that make you feel like more of a man?”

“Hey, behave yourself,” someone else said, “You can’t just⁠—”

“What?” Betsy Rhodes, who owned Savannah society, stepped in front of the man who I didn’t care to look at. “I think Rhett is doing exactly what he should do, what any decent person should. Don’t you agree?”

The man just nodded blankly.

There was the elite, and then there was Gabe’s mother. She turned to face Caroline, Josie, and Dixie May. “I’m very disappointed in all of you.” Then she narrowed her eyes on Birdie. “Especially you, Birdie. I expected better.”

In Savannah society, having Betsy reprimand you in private or public was a death sentence.

Murmurs climbed across the room.

“Emily,” Betsy said regally. “I think this year we should also find and fund some organizations that support mental health issues such as eating disorders. What do you think?”

Emily came up to us and patted my shoulder. “That’s a good idea, Betsy. And I’m sure our sponsor here will support that.”

I turned to see Gabe and Noah standing behind me. People were glaring at Josie, Dixie May, Caroline, and Birdie.

Alice gave me a thumbs-up sign and grinned wide.

I wasn’t alone, I realized, not when the Queen of Savannah Society was standing with me and with Pearl.

By the time I got back to the cottage, the adrenaline from the confrontation had worn off, leaving me feeling drained. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, half expecting the house to be quiet. Instead, I was greeted by the sound of applause.

Aunt Hattie and Missy were in the living room, their faces lit up as they clapped like I’d just won an Oscar.

“What the hell?” I muttered, setting my keys down in the bowl on the counter.

“You’re famous, nephew,” Hattie grinned. “That little speech of yours is already making the rounds online. Alice sent it to me first, of course. Thought I’d appreciate it.”

“What?”

“Someone recorded the speech you just gave at the Harper Fowlkes House, and posted it to TikTok, Instagram, X, and…well, everywhere. Hashtag My Hero.”

I groaned, rubbing a hand over my face. “Great. Just what I needed.”

“Oh, come on, you’re having a viral moment,” Aunt Hattie teased. “You did good, Rhett. Really good. About time someone called those vipers out for what they are.”

Missy’s smile was warm. “She’s right. That took guts.”

Before I could respond, Pearl came into the living room. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was wearing one of those soft, oversized shirts she loved, but it was her eyes that stopped me.

They were clear. Brighter than I’d seen them be in weeks.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she rasped in wonder.

I shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. “It was nothing.”

She crossed the room slowly, her gaze never leaving mine. And then, before I could say another word, she went on tiptoe and kissed me.

It was soft and tentative at first like she was testing the waters, but when I didn’t pull away, it deepened. Her hands slid to the back of my neck, and I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding her like she might disappear if I let go.

When she finally pulled back, her cheeks were flushed, and she was smiling.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

“For what?”

“For being my person. For standing up for me. For everything.”

My heart pounded in a way that felt like it might break me—but in the best possible way.

“Well,” I murmured, dropping my forehead to rest against hers. “We’re more than friends, darlin’.”

“Yes, we are.” She brushed her lips against mine.

Aunt Hattie snorted. “We’re still here.”

I wrapped my arms around Pearl, looking into her eyes. “You should go, Aunt Hattie, Missy.”

I heard them snicker, and then offer their boisterous goodnights and be good, while Pearl and I looked into each other’s eyes.