Page 86 of No More Billionaires

“Don’t worry about us,” I told him. “I’ve been planning to move out soon anyway, and I’ve already talked to Cadence about rooming with me. Y’all do whatever you need to do. We’ll be fine. Even if I don’t get the promotion—we’ll findsomekind of apartment somewhere we can afford, right Cay?”

“Absolutely. I can take a part-time job if I need to and just work my classes around it,” my sister said.

“There’s more to it than that,” Daddy said. “Our spending needs to change for sure. But there needs to be a new understanding about your mother’s expectations of you girls as well.”

“We’ve already talked about it,” Momma told him. “I know I’ve been wrong. I told them I’m sorry. I still think it wouldn’thurtif they married wealthy—”

“Lisbeth…”

“Momma…”

Daddy, Cadence, and I had all spoken at once, with matching warning tones. Then we all started laughing at the same time, even Momma.

“Okay, okay—I’ll keep my big mouth shut,” she said. “Marry whoever you want. Don’t get married. You won’t hear a word from me about it.”

I didn’t believe that for a minute. But I did believe Momma wouldtryto change.

It was all any of us could do, wasn’t it? Try?

As my sister and I left the room to allow my parents privacy for their discussion, I knew I had to try to fix my own life.

I’d made mistakes as well.

I didn’t know if Larson would ever give me another chance or even let me explain myself, but I couldn’t just let him go without a fight.

The first step in my plan involved a very important piece of paper.

TWENTY-SIX

Breaking News

“I typically draft prenups for people who are engaged.”

Daddy’s personal lawyer, Charlie Sherman, usually booked appointments weeks in advance. But as he was also Daddy’s good friend, he said it would be all right for me to drop by first thing Monday morning, and he’d squeeze me in.

The document I’d asked him to draw up was a pretty simple one anyway.

“Well, it’s not really a prenuptial agreement, more of a pre-dating agreement. We might never even get as far as engagement.”

We might not get as far as “Hello.”

I wanted to specify in legally-binding black and white that if Larson would still have me, I wanted nothing from him—ever—except for his love.

His money had absolutely nothing to do with my feelings for him. In fact, it was in the way.

“Are you sure about this, Kenley? There’s not much wiggle-room here. And usually I’m drawing one of these up for theotherparty, if you know what I mean,” Charlie said, standing beside the printer as it spit out the document.

“Absolutely sure,” I said. I took the pen he offered me and signed on the line without a second thought.

He signed it with his secretary as a notary and then folded it and slipped it into a plain envelope.

“Well, God’s speed to you, then. He’s a lucky man.” Charlie smiled.

“I’m the lucky one—and I’ll need more than God’s speed. This may take everything the Big Guy’s got.”

* * *

Larson wasn’t at his desk in the newsroom when I got in.

---