Page 4 of Tied Up in Riches

“What did you say?”

“You could have visited me.”

“With what money, Brooke? You think I absorbed richness from all the people I work for at the club?”

“I would have paid for your ticket if you wanted to make the trip.” I sigh, pushing back the anger.

“This is why you should have married Beau. Money wouldn’t have been an issue. Lack of it is the source of all arguments, Brooke–arguments that could be prevented if you had stuck with the plan.”

“Beau is a dick.”

“Watch your language, young lady. Beau is a nice man. A successful, wealthy, nice man. He would have taken care of you–of us.”

My chances of winning this argument are next to nothing. Shy of moving back to Thailand again, the only solution I have is an attempt at a topic change. “How’s work been?” It’s the only thing she ever does, so it’s really my only option.

“Don’t change the subject. Beau just got out of a relationship.” My body instantly itches like I’m wearing a wool sweater at the idea of getting back together with my ex. “Now is the perfect time to come home. It’s fate. There’s an event next weekend at the club. I’ll get you an invite. He would love to see you.”

I highly doubt that.

“I won’t be there next weekend.” I glance at Maci. I was only supposed to stay a week. I haven’t gotten my ticket to Connecticut yet, but I intended to leave on Thursday. She doesn’t seem bothered by my abrupt change in plans.

“Yes. You will. I told all the ladies at the club about your homecoming. Do not make me look like a liar. Beau’s mother will be so disappointed in you.”

“I don’t care about Martha. She’s as awful as her son,” I spit.

“Take that back.” The loud shriek of her voice pierces my inner ear. I yank my phone away from my face. “You will not speak with that tone or words of disrespect for the people who have done so much for you.”

I want her to clarify what they’ve done for me, but my and my mother’s definitions of positive and negative actions are not in alignment. It’ll be a waste of breath for both of us. “I have to go, Mom. I’ll let you know when I book my flight.”

Without giving her the chance to respond, I hang up. My phone buzzes in my hand immediately. I stare down at the black screen, Mom lighting up in white.

“What did she say?” Maci’s soft voice trickles into my awareness. I had forgotten where I was for a moment.

“I’m sorry. I don’t have to stay here. I can find somewhere else to go. I just can’t go home. I thought I was ready, but–” a sob cracks my voice. Maci wraps her arm around my shoulder, pulling me to her. “Money is more important than happiness to her,” I mumble into her T-shirt. “I hate it.”

“I know,” she whispers. “You can stay here as long as you need.”

“If Marcus says no for some reason, you can stay in our guest room,” Lexy adds.

“Or mine. I have a baby who wakes up at 5 a.m. like his life depends on it, but you’re more than welcome to crash with us.”

All the offers only make me cry harder. I met two of these three girls less than twelve hours ago, and they already care about me more than my own mother.

“It’ll be okay. Shhh,” Maci hums against my hair.

A click comes from down the hallway, deep laughter filling the air. I sit, clearing the tears from my eyes to see two men enter the living room.

They halt in their tracks, taking in the scene, then awkwardly glancing at each other. I look back at Maci who seems to be having a silent conversation with Dean as she sits cross-legged on the living room floor next to me. I run the back of my thumbs under each eye again as I stand. “Hi. Sorry. Don’t mind me. My mom is a mosquito. She sucks the life right out of me.” I fake a smile, walking around the couch to introduce myself.

“Brooke. You must be Dean.” I reach my hand out to the blond in front of me. He’s wearing basketball shorts and a T-shirt, the sleeves tight around his biceps. Nice work, Maci. He leans in for a hug instead.

“Nice to finally meet you, Brooke,” he says before pulling back. “Thanks for taking care of my girl.” I knew she’d choose Dean before I ever met him. And the energy he gives off only helps confirm she made the right choice for her.

“She’d do the same for me.” I glance back at my friend appreciatively before turning to Marcus.

“Marcus, I’m assuming?”

“That’s me.” He accepts my handshake, and I scan his body. His dark sweats cinch mid-calf. He definitely doesn’t skip leg day. His white shirt perfectly highlights every muscle in his upper body. Looks like he takes advantage of the home gym Maci showed me on the tour yesterday. My gaze jumps from his stormy blue eyes to his dark hair, tied neatly into a messy bun at the back of his head. It should be a sin for any man to look that good, especially after spending two days in the woods.

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