Page 7 of Tempt Thy Neighbor

The message was clear: my dad is done with my shit.

And that’s fine, because I’m done with his too.

My phone buzzes against the table for the second time since I sat down ten minutes ago.

I don’t have to look to know it’s my mother.

She’s been calling for days, twice an hour every hour. I’ve yet to answer her because she’s only calling to beg me to apologize to my father, and I refuse.

“Here’s that slice of pecan, dear,” the server says, sliding a plate in front of me. “Refill on coffee for you?”

I nod and she tops off my brew as my phone begins to ring again.

Seriously, Mom?

“Don’t tell me you’re going to let that ring and not answer your mama, kid.” The server pins me with a stare, a bushy brow cocked. “She brought you into this world, and she can take you right out.”

I want to tell her to mind her own business, but there’s a niggling feeling that perhaps I should answer. She usually doesn’t call three times in a row.

With one last pointed look, she gives me a promise to check on me soon and sashays away.

Though the pie sitting in front of me looks like it fell right off the page of a magazine, my appetite just isn’t there. I shove the plate away and blow out a heavy breath, picking up my phone and hitting my mom’s name before I can chicken out.

“I’m so glad you’ve decided to spare a moment of your time for your own mother.” Her words drip with sarcasm, and I clench my jaw, already kicking myself for falling for her shit and calling her back.

“You called?”

“You need to talk with your father.”

Fucking called it.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, the frustration growing. “Mother…”

She huffs. “Don’t use that tone with me, young man. You’ve embarrassed your father and this family.Yourfamily, in case you’ve forgotten that.”

Unfortunately, as much as I’ve tried, I have not been able to forget that fact.

Where I grew up, a Barnes has more influence than the damn mayor. And that’s because they own the town—literally. Hotels, stores, restaurants, gas stations…pretty much everything. Elbows are rubbed with all the right people, and the family makes money hand over fist investing in company after company. A Barnes’s pockets are as deep as their connections. Everything we touch turns to gold.

My father? He’s Reginald Barnes, and he is king.

Ruler of the family. Of the town. Of my life.

“Your father has never asked for much from you, Sutton. The least you can do is not act like a fool at his dinner.”

I laugh. Never asked for much from me?

Yeah fucking right.

My whole life was mapped out for me when I was still in diapers. I’ve not had one thing that isn’t tied to them. I’ve not had one decision in my life that hasn’t been dictated by them.

She ignores my laugh and sighs. “I just wish…”

Oh god. Here it comes.

She sniffles. “I just wish you could do this for me, Sutton. I love you so much and just want the best for you, and being with your family is what’s best. I want to be a happy family. Can’t you do that for me?”

Translation: a happy family looks better for the press.

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