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I think about telling them that Bea’s grandfather is the governor. I think about telling them that it gives us yet another tie to Emerson. I think about mentioning that her brother is a very famous actor.

But I don’t.

None of that matters. It’s not why I love her.

I didn’t want to have to do this, but for Bea, I’ll do whatever it takes. Arguing with them about Bea’s worth is just making me angry. “I gave you funds on all those dates.” I point. “Because at each point, you were on the verge of being totally ruined. The first time, I gave you half my trust fund, the money left by Grandpa. This time—” I jam my finger down on the other paper. “You stole money from my college fund, also from Grandpa, and I had to drop out of school. I lied to cover for you.”

“We know that,” Dad says, “and you have no idea how much we appreciate?—”

“Oh, on the contrary, I think I know exactly how much youappreciateme.” I shake my head. “I think that I’ve enabled you, and that’s on me. But if you don’t agree to sell your shares, the sharesI gave you, to a friend of mine when he makes a very fair proposal to buy my company, I’ll take these lists with the dates and all the supporting evidence to theNew York Times, and I’ll tell them how I created my company in spite of having a silver-spoon-shaped millstone hanging around my neck. I’m sure the Richmonds will be very impressed.”

Mom’s mouth dangles open.

Dad’s entire face turns bright red.

“I wonder how many business partners you’ll find who want to work with you after that.” I stand up. “The offer for purchase of the company will probably be a good one, but even if it’s not, see that you approve it.”

I don’t stay to argue with them. I don’t listen to their complaints and their frustration. I walk through the front door and get in my car, and then I drive away.

19

BEA

When I check my phone after my shift, my grandfather has called me eight times. The last time he bothered trying to reach me that much, my mom had coded and been dead for four and a half minutes. Mom’s supposed to be clean, so this should be interesting.

A feeling of dread claws its way into my stomach as I call him back.

“Hello?” He doesn’t sound upset, so hopefully Mom’s fine.

“I was at work,” I say. “I can’t chat while I’m at work, and I work Tuesday through Saturday every week, like I have for the last five years.”

“I’ve emailed you some talking points,” he says.

“Excuse me?”

“Surely you heard the news,” he says.

“About?”

“I’m running for the empty Senate seat.”

“Okay.” I’m not sure how the Senate is really very different than being governor. “Is that a demotion? Did you do something wrong?”

“Beatrice Emmeline Cipriani, please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m guessing that’s not covered in the talking points.”

“The kind of publicity this will generate—a governor stepping down from a well-run state to stepintothe fray and protect citizens where they need it most—will help me.”

“Help you with what? Are you in trouble?”

His sigh weighs fifty pounds. “Help in my bid for the presidency.”

This is literally a scene from one of my nightmares. “Oh, goodie.”

“With the wedding coming up this weekend, I want to make sure our message is coordinated.”

“Our message?” I can’t help laughing. “Wedo not have a message. I have no message. I’m confused about why you might think we did.”

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