Page 55 of Never the Best

A few hours later, I was on my porch, reading the news on my iPad under the whir of the ceiling fan, trying to savor the last bit of cool before the afternoon heat took over Savannah. That’s when my phone rang.

“Mama,” I greeted.

“How could you?” she shrieked.

“How could I what?” I inquired innocently. It was petty, but I was all out of fucks.

“Rhett Vanderbilt, I expect you to come over and make up with Josie and end this foolishness.”

"You can tell Josie she can keep the ring," I drawled, ignoring what she’d just said. Then, because I was still furious at Josie for thinking my parents could bully me into submission—and they would have, if I hadn’t finally grown a spine—I added, "She can add it to her collection of engagement rings."

“Rhett.” Mama sounded like she was clutching her pearls.

“Yes, Mama?” I asked patiently.

“Are you coming over for lunch or not?”

“Not.”

“What?”

Hey, no one was more surprised than me that I was giving my whole family the proverbial finger.

“Mama, you’re upset and yelling at me. Josie’s probably fake crying her way through a whole river, and Father’s most likely strategizing how to chop my balls off. So, no, I’m not coming over for lunch.”

I don’t think I’d ever experienced Dolores Vanderbilt speechless.However, she recovered quickly enough. “Your father is going to disown you,” she warned me.

“Okay. Tell him that I’ll get the paperwork ready, and he can move all his accounts from me to some other wealth manager.” I was now starting toenjoy myself.

“Well, that’s what he’ll do, Rhett,” she sneered.

My mother had no clue that the life she was living was not because of my father but me.

“Tell him that my assistant will be in touch with?—”

“Rhett, let’s not mix personal with business,” my father, as predicted, took over the conversation, which I suspected had been taking place over the speaker for all to hear how my mother was going tomanagemy recalcitrant ass like I was a spoiled teenager.

The irony wasn’t lost on me. Back when I actually hadbeena spoiled teenager, running wild and desperately in need of parenting, no one had bothered to manage me at all.Instead, I’d been left to my own devices, strutting around like I was king of the fucking world.

If my son—assuming I ever had children—did to someone what I’d done to Pearl, I’d have whaled his ass. Then again, maybe the real lesson was not to raise your kids to be assholes in the first place. This was exactly why I didn’t want to get married or have kids. I didn’t want that kind of responsibility. I could barely manage my own life—how could I possibly take care of others without screwing it all up?

“Sir, let’s talk in my office.” I threw down the gauntlet.

Silence.

“You can call and make an appointment with my assistant,” I continued. I mean, if I was going to insult my father for being a jackass, I should go all out.

Ialwayscame to my father’s home to talk to him about his business, but that wasbeforehe and Mama decided to take the “I’m disowning you” path.Now, Mohammed would have to come down the fuckin’ mountain.

“Son, I’mstillyour father.”

“I thought we were keeping the personal and business separate,” I retorted. “I normally conduct business in my office. You know where it is. Have a good day, sir.”

I hung up on him, feeling mightily satisfied.

CHAPTER 20

Pearl

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