Page 62 of Mr. Big Mistake
Dad pointed at me with his fork. “That’s exactly what my first business partner said before he left to start his own small-town bank chain. You want to know what happened with that?”
I rolled my eyes. “I already know. You bought him out--.”
“Two years into his fun little adventure, yes. You’ve already found success at Zane’s side. No use in abandoning your own brother for some dream you can’t let go of.”
Mom whispered. “Don’t be so hard on him, honey.”
Dad’s eyes fell to his food. “Then, he needs to stop making such asinine decisions.”
I looked over at Clint, and he seemed to be the only person who had sympathy in his eyes for me. It didn’t matter, though. It was always like that. Clint came to Zane’s defense all the time. But, me? The middle child? I took care of myself. I was the punching bag for Mom and Dad. I was the referee between Clint and Zane. I was the loner. The impossible child. The weird one.
And obviously, that would never change. No matter the kind of success I found.
“BeBe, I’d like to hear more about this production company of yours. Does it have a name?” Mom asked.
Dad waved his hand in the air. “Stop encouraging him. The last thing we need is to--.”
I nodded. “It does, Mom. I’m calling it ‘Top Notch Productions.’”
Clint grinned. “You gonna do that with your little wifey?”
The entire table paused as Mom’s fork fell from her hand.
“What did you say, CeCe?” she asked.
Clint’s eyes met mine. “Wait, you haven’t told them?”
I wanted to kill him. “No, Clint. I haven’t.”
Dad’s voice grew gruff. “Did he say ‘wifey’?”
I closed my eyes. “It was an accidental marriage. A dare gone bad. I’m taking care of it.”
Dad shot up from the table. “You got married in a Vegas chapel, and you didn’t tell me!?”
Mom grabbed his arm. “Sit down.”
I leaned back. “Remind me never to tell you guys anything ever again.”
Clint shrugged. “How was I supposed to know?”
I leaned forward. “You used those loose lips of yours when you asked, fuckwad.”
Mom snipped at me. “No language like that at the table.”
“And once again, I have to clean up your messes. Let me get in touch with my attorney. They’ll have it handled before the day is out.” Dad threw his napkin down.
I shook my head. “No, thanks, actually. I got it handled.”
“Nonsense. You need to be out of this sooner rather than later. Before the bimbo, you’ve married--.”
I stood. “Excuse me?”
Dad glared at me. “Before the woman, you married bleeds you dry of all your money. You know damn good and well women in this town--.”
I pointed at him. “Don’t you dare talk about Kelly that way. She’s a bright, intelligent, beautiful, down-to-earth woman who anyone would be lucky to marry. And I don’t need you, or your money, or your influence, or your damn attorney to babysit me or do me any favors. Some days? I think you forget who got my business up and running before I even offered Zane a slice of the pie.”
Zane nodded. “He’s right, Dad.”
