Page 93 of Synced to Us

Oh no.

“Dee? You okay?”

“No,” I admit and powerwalk to Wyn’s table. The closer I get, the better I hear the conversation.

“Have you gotten a promotion?” Wyn asks Brad, his voice even, his body relaxed.

“Nah. Why?” More fat hisses against the grill.

“Your car out front. Looks like you got some fresh detailing.”

“Oh, yeah, that. We had some extra cash lying around. Thought our prized piece could use a wax.” Brad laughs, although there’s nothing funny about it.

“You ask Lucy?”

“Why would I ask her? She doesn’t care about the truck.”

“How about Ma?”

I ease into the chair beside Wyn, silently pleading with him to take it down a notch.

“Ma cares even less about cars.”

Wyn chuckles mirthlessly. “You’re just not getting it, are you, asshole?”

“Dude.” Brad spins from the grill, flashing a soiled apron with KISS THE CHEF written across the chest. “What’s your problem?”

I cut in before Wyn can passive-aggressively escalate the situation. “What is Aspen Landing Holdings?”

Brad’s spatula freezes in the air. He blinks and says to me, “I’m sorry, but why are you back here?”

“Wyn asked me to take a look at his financials. I noticed subtle deposits in that company’s name. Those deposits grew into quite large ones over the years. Since you’re in charge of May’s well-being while Wyn’s in the city, I’m wondering what that company represents.”

Brad only stares at me, his jaw cutting through his skin.

May’s soft voice floats through the growing tension. “I don’t understand. Darling, why would your girlfriend be looking through your money?”

Oh shit.

Wyn exhales and closes his eyes for a brief period before opening them again. “She’s a financial manager, Ma.”

“Don’t forget former hooker,” Brad adds before May can even take a breath.

Lucy gasps, caught halfway between watching her kids and eyeing this exchange.

I stare at him.

“Why the hell…?” Wyn clenches his fists at his brother but doesn’t finish the sentence.

“Shoulda told you this sooner, Ma, but I got a phone call from a certain angry coworker of Dee’s.” Brad sucks on a tooth, likely delighted he saved his theatrical debut for this moment, then turns to Wyn. “He felt it was important to inform me of your favorite son’s fiancée’s shady dealings, and that I probably don’t want her infecting the family name. He’s right, by the way. Get gone, bitch.”

“Wait—what? Winston, I’m not…” May’s large eyes take me in, and it breaks my heart to see the hurt there. “What’s going on?”

Wyn stands so sharply his chair topples over. “Really? You’re still going after Dee? After what you’ve done?”

Brad smiles, but his abrupt retreat closer to the grill belies any confidence he exudes. “Only telling the truth, bro.”

“Don’t bro me,” Wyn growls. “If you’re such a truth-teller, explain to Ma and your wife what you’ve been doing with my cash for years!”

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