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want to make amends for your past sins, join a church. Youā€™d have a better chance of making amends with your Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Butā€¦if you want me to hear you out, then cut to the goddamned point. Iā€™m already late for work. And Iā€™m risking my bartending gig to make space in my schedule for you, so at the very least, you can make my time worth it. Or if not, call your secretary and she can show me the way out. Iā€™d prefer her company.ā€

ā€œIā€™d bet you would.ā€ He smiles. ā€œAlways a poon hound from what I remember. Thatā€™s your problemā€¦ Makes it hard for you to get paid.ā€

ā€œWhat the hell does that matter?ā€

ā€œIt matters because thatā€™s all your grandparentsā€”your grandmother, particularlyā€”ever wantedā€¦ Was to see you married, Iā€™m sure you know that.ā€

I snort. ā€œYeah, sure. Cutting me off from the familyā€™s finances was sure a helluva way for my grandfather to communicate that. As for my grandmother, she was the only one who gave a shit and thatā€™s why Iā€™m here. So, if you donā€™t have anything else to talk about then I have a meeting with Maā€™s funeral director. Unless you want me to pass a message to my sister, Hannahā€”who couldnā€™t seem to give two shits.ā€

ā€œYouā€™ll be able to give it to herselfā€¦if you agree to see her this weekend. Seems youā€™ve already been beat to the punch. Your sister,ā€ he pauses for effect, ā€œis getting married.ā€

I swallow. ā€œWhich one?ā€

ā€œHannah. Sheā€™s the blonde, if I remember. With that wide smile.ā€ He smiles as if heā€™s imagining herā€”making me want to punch out his teeth.

My sisters have been always really beautiful. Both of them.

But where Hannah was fair and serious faced, my younger sister Sabrina was a brunette ball of energy. At least, thatā€™s what they used to be.

From what I rememberā€¦

Iā€™d been cut off from the Fletcher family, and that had its own consequences.

Of course, you lost your access to most of the finances, but you also lost your safety net, your seat at the tableā€¦

Your connection to your siblings was the last to goā€”the final thread to cut to make sure that no one dared crossed the line of the family name. That you didnā€™t dare step out of your spaceā€¦

Or else your spot would be next.

I hadnā€™t drawn my siblings into the drama between my grandfather and me. I couldnā€™t do that to them.

Not to Hannah or Bri.

Weā€™d already lost enough.

I nod at Frankā€”nod as if hearing Hannahā€™s nuptials news is the most natural conclusion on earth, and I slide back in my seat, heart beating, shoulders shrugging as I do my best to pretend I donā€™t give a shit.

Even when the word comes out full of heatā€”strangled and full of sand. ā€œSo?ā€

ā€œSoā€¦?ā€ Frank prompts, eyes pinched on my face from not getting the reaction he wanted. He guffaws like a childā€”a tantrum on the tip of his tongue. ā€œIā€™m trying to tell you that youā€™re invited. Well, if you want to be, of course. I canā€™t very well make you go.ā€

ā€œAnd Iā€™m sure youā€™d break something, if you tried.ā€

ā€œButā€ he interjects, ā€œif you do go, I want you to know that thereā€™s a nice little paycheck in it. For you and for me. Most importantly, for me.ā€ He smiles at his own joke. ā€œTurns out your grandmotherā€”sly minx that she wasā€”had updated her trust. Seems she was using another attorney outside of the family. And that lawyer had her own copy of your grandmotherā€™s latest trust.ā€ His blue eyes flash. ā€œI, on the other hand, didnā€™t get this copy.ā€

ā€œGee, I wonder why. Maybe it had to do with your choice of aftershave. Ma was never too keen on the scent of ā€˜vulture.ā€™ā€

Frank clears his throat, trying to ignore me. ā€œBe that as it mayā€¦ I hear this new trust involves you. Thing is: The trust briefing wonā€™t be until after the wedding. Your grandmotherā€™s new attorney,ā€ he almost spits with disgust, ā€œsays itā€™ll be easier this way. All the family will be together and will be able to read whatā€™s in their estate. And that includes youā€¦but youā€™d have to return to your grandmotherā€™s property.ā€

ā€œIn Connecticut. I have to be in Connecticut? To listen to the details of who gets what from her estate?ā€

The lawyer shrugs. ā€œItā€™s the way she wanted it. The way she asked. The way she stipulated. Anyone who doesnā€™t attend at the reading will get cut out. I had explicit instructions to contact you. To inform you of the wedding. To make sure you were prepared.ā€

I frown. ā€œPrepared for what?ā€

But the question hangs in the air. Because my cell phone picks now to start going off.

I wonder if itā€™s an alarmā€”some timer I forgot I set.

Until I look down and notice Nancy texting me for the second time todayā€”this message even more urgent than the last.

I read the screen.

Hell-beast: Meet me in the bar in an hour.

Itā€™s unlike her to text me twice in one day, though sheā€™s definitely done it before.

The double texting has become more frequent in the last seven days, and I donā€™t pretend not to know why.

To know the very reason why sheā€™s been so on edge with me lately.

But the Andrew I know today? Heā€™s at his witā€™s end.

And I type back so fast my fingers hurt, every ounce of my body taut like a string that Frank is taking pleasure in thrumming, my nerves almost standing on edge.

I reply fast, a lie forming just a little too damned easy.

Me: Too late. Iā€™m there now.

I glance back up at Frank, shaking my head.

I know Iā€™m pushing it. Iā€™ve been pushing Nancyā€™s buttons all week.

But right now, I canā€™t muster up the urge to play nice.

Not with her. Or anyone.

ā€œSorry.ā€ I glance up at Frank. ā€œBoss is on my ass.ā€ I clear my throat. ā€œYou were saying?ā€

ā€œI was sayingā€¦ā€ he starts. But my phone goes off again, chirping out loud.

I grab it.

ā€œDo you need a moment?ā€ Frank asks.

ā€œNo. No, I donā€™t,ā€ I

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