Page 24 of Flaunt
“Sounds like a plan,” I say, happy for the diversion.
We all take our pans and head to the sliding glass door. Banks walks behind me.
“You’ve already taken over Maddox and Ashley,” he whispers. “You can’t have Moss and Brooke too.”
I slow my pace so he can walk beside me.
“Too bad,” I say, chiding him. “I can’t help that your family welcomes me with open arms.”
As we step into the lanai, he makes a face, making me laugh.
Moss helps Brooke get a couple of our pizzas into the oven. It doesn’t take long.
“Okay, that’s done,” he says. “Do you guys want a drink? Beer? Water? Tea? A pop?”
“I’ll have a beer,” Banks says.
“We have wine, too,” Ashley says. “Do you want a glass, Sara?”
“Please.”
Moss and Brooke head into the house, leaving Banks and me alone. We wander to the lounge chairs by the pool and sit. A fountain trickles water down a small cascade of rocks into the deep end. The sound is relaxing.
“I love this,” I say, settling against the overstuffed pillows and pulling my feet up onto the cushion too. “I’ve never had a pool.”
“Ever?” Banks asks.
I shake my head. “Sabrina was always worried that my little sister would fall in, so we never got one.”
“How old were you when your dad married her?”
“Ten.”
He nods like he’s thinking about that. My chest tightens as the realization of talking about this with Banks is on the horizon.Not what I want to do.
I pull my phone out of my dress pocket and make a point to open my email. I’m sure Banks is watching me, curious.But I won’t be entertaining you, Sparkles.
I scroll freely, not really worried about finding anything specific. This is simply a distraction from having to talk to Banks about my family. But when my gaze hits an email marked urgent, my finger slides off the screen and halts my pointless scroll.
What the hell?
I tap the email and read the contents, my blood pressure rising.
Dear Sara,
Mr. Eubanks informed me that you are no longer employed with Eubanks and Fields Distributing, and he said he would be unable to contact you about the Petterson Label Wines Gala this coming weekend. You wouldn’t be able to attend.
You were personally an integral part of our growth last year, and we would be remiss if we didn’t extend an invitation to you. Please come as my personal guest and network with some of the most important players in the industry.
The details are below. Please RSVP to my assistant, who is copied on this email, as soon as possible.
With regards,
Myles Petterson
President, Petterson Label Wines
I drop my phone in my lap, my mouth gaping. “That jerk.”
