Page 84 of Lost the Handle

“Yes, Shelli Adler-Brooks.”

She giggles softly. “Will you be Brooks-Adler when you marry my brother?”

No, I’ll be Emery Adler, but I don’t tell her that. “Is this why you’re calling, Shelli? I am a very busy woman and don’t have time to be gossip fodder in your group text with our siblings.”

She gasps. “Who told you? Stella! I knew we should have left her out!”

I laugh. “No, I’m a hacker and stalk all of you.”

“What?” she asks, a little bit of fear in her voice. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s not okay.”

“Well, be nice, or I’ll leak all those texts between you and my brother,” I tease because I’m not stalking any of them.

The only person I stalk is Quinn.

“You wouldn’t!”

I snort. “I’m kidding, but it’s awesome to know you and my brother sext.”

“We are happily married. How do you think we make babies?”

“Oh my God, Shelli, to what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your voice?” I groan loudly.

Her laughter is like kids music, all cheery and sweet. “Mom was telling me that you’ve started doing cybersecurity. I wanted to see if I can schedule a meeting to get you to look at our systems.”

I grimace. “Shelli, I mean this with all due respect, but y’all’s security is nonexistent. I don’t know who this dude Brandley Wilts is, but he sucks. You get what you pay for, and his rates are low because he’s trash.”

I’m met with silence. “Okay, good to know. This means, as a descendant of a player whose jersey hangs in the rafters of Luther Arena, you’ll come help us.”

“I don’t think you asked. I think you just told me to come and help.” She laughs, and I roll my eyes playfully. I never know if we’re being serious or if this is all a joke between her and me. “You do know you can’t afford me.”

“Maybe not Emery Brooks, hacker extraordinaire. But Emery Brooks—whose diapers I changed and who my brother is going to marry—she, I can afford.” I snort at that. “So, tomorrow? Lunch?”

I agree on a groan just as someone knocks on the front door. I furrow my brows since I’m not expecting anyone, and if it were Quinn, he’d just walk in. As I head toward the door, Shelli tells me, “Hoping this wedding is called off soon so we can plan the one we all want to attend. Toodles, sis.”

The phone goes dead as I reach for the door, shaking my head. I haven’t even processed Shelli’s words before my gaze falls on Yvette. She stands before me, her arms wrapped around her middle, her eyes wide and full of apprehension. “Hey?”

She pushes past me. “We have a problem.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask, turning around and shutting the door behind me.

When Yvette faces me, tears spill from her eyes as she shakes her head. “She’s not going to call it off. It doesn’t matter what Quinn or I say.”

Blood drains from my body as I gawk at her. “She has to. Quinn is ending this. I don’t know what his plan is, but he wants us. We were just talking about having kids, so you best talk to your girl and get her to take the money.”

“You don’t understand.” Once more, Yvette shakes her head, her tears falling quicker.

“Ava called me crying ’cause her dad called and said her ailing grandma wants to see Ava walk down the aisle before she dies. They don’t think she has much more time, and he’s insisting they move the wedding up to this weekend.”

God forgive me. “Sorry, Granny, but I don’t give two shits Dean Winchester could come out of the damn TV and say, ‘Damn it, Emery, marry me.’ And I still would choose Quinn. He is mine.”

But even as I say the words, I can’t bring myself to believe them. I know Quinn; he’s got a heart of gold. He’ll marry Ava for the dying grandma. The fucking sap.

My sap, but damn it!

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