Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“Oh, yeah.” Lexi must have found the answer in a puffy white cloud and then turns to Willa. “Deanna is constantly on dates with guys, asking what they like and didn’t like about her. She sends them questionnaires.”
“Met anyone worth keeping yet?” Willa asks me.
This isn’t supposed to be about me. “Not yet,” I say.
“What about you, Lexi?” Willa asks.
Bingo.
Lexi swallows hard. “Me?”
“You do use the app?” she asks.
“Well, not anymore,” Lexi says.
“Because she met someone on the app,” I explain. “A guy. A very handsome guy.”
Willa puts all her attention on Lexi. “How long have you been seeing him?”
“Not long,” Lexi says.
“Don’t be so modest,” I say, keeping my voice light. But inside, I want to kick her. This is our in. Is she trying to sabotage us? “They’ve been together almost six months,” I tell Willa. “It’s the longest she’s ever been with anyone.”
Willa’s eyes light up. “Perfect. We’ll have dinner. The two of you and the two of us. Well, the three of you.” She nods toward me. “Show up in something a little formal—a cocktail dress and heels—with this guy, and convince my partner you’re madly in love.”
Uh…
Lexi blinks again.
“Is there a ring?” Willa asks. “It would be great if there’s a ring.”
My stomach drops. All the way to the earth’s core. Our in will be an out, fast, if Willa pushes her too far.
“A ring?” Lexi goes pale. “No, we, I, uh…”
“Even better,” Willa says. “He can propose at the dinner. We can plan for dinner in, say, a month? To give him time to prepare the perfect proposal.” She laughs softly, but it’s not clear if she’s joking, and she doesn’t give us time to laugh with her. “I’d love to meet him first, though, as soon as possible. Before we have the dinner to convince my partner. When can I meet Mr. Right?”
Shit, shit, shit.
“What?” Lexi stays frozen in disbelief. Even her smile is still frozen on her face, and it’s cold as ice. Fake. Plastic. Not like Lexi at all.
“It’s Friday afternoon,” Willa says. “The two of you must have weekend plans.”
“Don’t you have a date tonight?” I ask, fumbling for a way to salvage this.
“What? Yeah. I think so.” Lexi’s voice is soft and not in the demure, coy way it often is. In the way it is when Dad is pissed. She’s scared.
Of course she’s scared. Willa is practically eloping her on the spot.
I don’t know what to say, how to help. I can’t tell Willa to back off—investors hate being told what to do, and we still need her money—so I force a smile and I nod, as if this is all normal pitch stuff.
“At your father’s party?” Willa asks.
“Right,” I say. “He has a party tonight. We’ll all be there.”
Wait… Tonight?
I try to backpedal, but Willa is already jumping on it.
“I’ll see the three of you tonight.” She stands and offers her hand. She shakes Lexi’s hand. Then mine. “I can’t wait.”
She can’t wait to make Lexi Huntington, the girl who has no interest in commitment, the poster girl of love and commitment.
Not a problem. We can handle this.
Totally not a problem.
Chapter Two
Deanna
Major problem.
100 percent, colossal, Category 5 hurricane problem.
Lexi says nothing as we take the elevator to the parking garage, get in the car, and drive out.
She says nothing on the twenty-minute ride home.
Even when we turn onto the hill of Huntington Hills, she says nothing. She stares at the radio as it spins competing narratives: ballads professing the beauty of love between girl power anthems and odes to the almighty dollar.
We park right as “She Works Hard for the Money” finishes, as if the universe is trying to tell Lexi to put finances first.
Or maybe that’s me. Love songs never move me. They dwell in cliches or lack specificity. Money songs, too, but at least money makes sense.
Money is logical. Money is practical. Money never leaves because you’re too detached or too busy with work or too unable to let your guard down. People do.
But Lexi isn’t any of those things. And even though she’s a bit superficial at times, she’s not moved by the digits in her bank account. Our bank account. Lexi wanted to work on MeetCute with me because she wanted to work with me, because I promised her that we could make it into something great.
When Mom was dying, she didn’t ask me to smile through the pain or pretend she wasn’t losing strength. She only asked me for one thing: to take care of Lexi.
For a decade and a half, that’s what I’ve done. I have to do it now, too. I have to make sure my sister gets the best deal possible, creates the best life possible, finds the best partner possible.
“When is Jake arriving?” I ask as I turn into our neighborhood.