Page 28 of Best Laid Plans

"We need to set a wedding date, Anson. You can't just—"

"No," I cut her off. I glared at Bailey. "Don't use my mother to get me to set a date."

Bailey pouted mutinously. "I don't understand why you don't want to."

Alma sighed. "Does this have something to do with Nova King being in Sentinel today?"

Mama gasped. "What? That n—"

"Don't you dare say that word," I barked at my mother. The South was still steeped in racism, especially in small towns like Sentinel. I didn't abide by it, and I wouldn't have it in my home.

"You can't talk to me like that," Mama bellowed. "I'm your mother."

"You're also a racist, and I can't change that, but you will not spew garbage in my home, in my presence."

"Son, I've lived here longer than you've been alive," she admonished.

Mama had a mean streak, just like Alma, just like Bailey. Fuck, was I engaged to my mother? Yeah, I needed to break it off with Bailey. This wasn't going to work.

"The mansion, the estate, the business…they're all mine. I know how much Daddy left you, and you're welcome to live elsewhere."

"Anson," my sister cried out.

"And you, too," I retorted. "You're a grown woman, Sis. Find a job, do something with your life."

"God, what's it with you and everyone getting a job." Alma pushed her plate so hard her wine glass toppled and spilled blood-red onto the white tablecloth. "Mama didn't work. I'm not going to work. Bailey isn't goin' to as well, once you get married. Women like us don't work. Period."

She was so very wrong about Bailey's future, but I let that slide. "What's so special about women like you?" I demanded.

"We're rich," Alma said arrogantly.

"Then live your life somewhere else and not in the Larue mansion," I suggested. "And Bailey is not rich. Her family is drowning in debt, which is why I had to give her a job."

"You could pay her father's debt off," Mama scolded. "You have enough to live lifetimes without working."

"If you care so much, feel free to pay Bailey's father's debt and her bills with your money. It won't be with mine."

"What's the point in us getting married if I have to continue to take care of myself financially?" Bailey whined. "I don't get it, Anson."

I took a fortifying breath. There were too many women in my home. Either they had to leave, or I had to.

"Bailey, I have some work tonight, but let's make some time soon for a serious discussion."

She brightened, sure that I'd set a wedding date. Fuck! It would devastate her when I'd call off the engagement.

"Mama, if you say one more racist thing in front of me, I will have you leave this house. It's my home. You're a guest. Don't forget that. Alma, you have two months to get the hell out, and get your life in order."

"Anson." Alma got up so fast that her dining chair crashed onto the carpet covering the original hardwood floor. "Tyler is gonna propose soon, and then we're goin' to live together. I don't understand the rush."

I ran a hand through my hair. "Tyler is not goin' to propose, Alma."

Her eyes went wide.

"Anson," Mama warned me. "He still might."

"What?" Alma asked and gaped at Bailey, who looked guilty as hell.

So, Alma was the last to know that her boyfriend was in love with another woman, and was only seeing her because his Daddy expected him to. When I found out a week ago, I told Tyler to be a man and tell Alma. He obviously hadn't, but you couldn't teach a man courage.

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