Page 60 of Flame
The last exciting thing that happened to me was the realization I could buy pumpkin spice creamer year-round and that my favorite pens were available in bulk.
But marriage, when you were fine being a bachelorette, isn’t a coup like scoring a case of individual creamers you can keep in your office. And getting married to protect your family’s legacy, and not for love, isn’t exactly a reason to celebrate. Neither of those things would make a rational person feel …free.
I suppose I’m not rational.
The way I see it, this is the opportunity I’ve been longing for—a way to fight back against my father for all the shit he’s put us through. For all the shit he’s putmethrough. Mom has taken the biggest toll emotionally. Her husband was a fraud. My brothers are using their various specialties, ranging from schmoozing personnel, shoring up contracts, and poring over finances and security. But me? The bulk of the actual work—that’s been on me.
I’ve coordinated efforts to ensure every piece of our lives is clear of Dad. I’ve been taking calls from furious partners, nervous investors, and curious clients. I’ve been working more of the day than not—and all weekends—rebuilding teams, building confidence, and restructuring contracts and commitments to minimize the hit we’re taking as a whole.
That was the basis of my anger with my father before yesterday. It wasn’t personal.
Today,it’s personal.
To think he had the gall to useme, his only daughter and the child that has had his back more than any other, in a scheme to sell us out.
Did he assume he could control me so tightly that he could safely bank on the fact that I wouldn’t find out? Did he bank on my previously unquestioning trust? And how had he been so sure that no one would want to marry me?
Sure, I’d said I wouldn’t marry several times over the years. And, granted, the odds that I’d get out, find a man, and marry him in a few weeks weren’t great. But it’s the point of the matter.
Putting me in this position, using me like this for some unknown backdoor deal—it’s unforgivable. And if marrying Foxx Carmichael is the only way to fuck Dad over, then I guess I’ll suck it up.Is that really such a sacrifice for me?
No, not really. But it is for Foxx.
A swell of gratitude hits me hard. This could have gone down much differently. The amendmentwasdiscovered before my birthday, in plenty of time for us to thwart it. And Foxx willingly put his life on hold for my family … and me.He’smaking the sacrifice. He’s going out on a limb, signing himself up to be a divorcée and pressing pause on his own personal life to help eradicate this heinous betrayal.
He's really such a good person. Such an amazing man.
My chest tightens, and as much as I hate to admit it—I need a hug.I hate needing a hug.
My phone is on the bed, so I pick it up and dial Mom. A bubble of anticipation ripples in my stomach while I wait for her to pick up.
“Bianca,” she says, relief thick in her voice. “How are you?”
I sit on the edge of the mattress. A cloud settles on my shoulders, making me feel silly for thinking this conversation would feel like a hug.
“Well, I’ve been better in some regards and worse in others. How are you?” I ask.
“Oh, Bianca…” She sighs heavily. “I can’t wait for this mess to be over.”
“I know, Mom. Me, too. So how are things going?”
“The police are still looking for your father. Jason said he filled you in on the Brewer Sports situation. I am so,so sorry, honey. I wish I could say something to avoid this happening, and I wish I would’ve seen it coming.”
I smile sadly. “This isn’t your fault. You trusted him.”
“And I shouldn’t have.”
“He was your husband. Of course, you should’ve.”
She sighs again.
My hand shakes around the phone, so I move it to the other one. I’m not sure if she knows about my impending marriage. I’m also unsure if this is the right time to bring it up.
“I called you twice yesterday,” she says. “Did you not get my messages?”
“My work phone is in my office. I’m in Florida.”
She pauses. “Did I know that?”
