Page 108 of Holiday Hopefuls
Oliver’s hand inadvertently strangles mine while he clearly focuses on not punching Chris in the face.
Something I’ve only had the satisfaction of doing once when we were teenagers. It didn’t end well.
For me.
Our parents took Chris’s side, naturally.
Connie, on the other hand, smacks Chris on the arm. My sweet, timid sister who dominates the financial world and acts like little woodland creatures help dress her each morning absolutely radiates fury.
Chris yelps. “Connie, what the hell?”
“I’ve told you for years to quit being such an ass to Calloway.”
“Only because you have feelings for one of her best friends,” her twin sneers.
Connie rears back like she’s been slapped. “Excuse me, but I’ve never needed a reason to be kind to my sister, thank you. You, however, have only ever taken pleasure in ridiculing her for something she’s passionate about. What if you have kids one day?”
Chris snorts, and Connie slaps him again.
I’d find it hilarious if I wasn’t so stunned.
“Have you ever considered that your younger sister may actually have a more difficult job than you and I do?”
“No,” he retorts.
“That’s because you’re an idiot,” she bellows. “Our jobs are stressful because they involve other people’s finances, sure. But Calloway? She spends her working hours molding the nextgeneration. I know I couldn’t do that job. I know for a fact that you wouldn’t be able to, either.” Connie pokes her twin in the ribs. “Yet, year after year, you and Prescott have made fun of her profession, never letting her forget that you two think she’s beneath the rest of us.”
Chris gapes at her while the rest of us hold our breath.
That’s the most Constance Irene Rutherford has ever said in front of everyone at once.
And she's defending me.
Dad stares bewildered at his favorite daughter. “Darling,” he starts in a tone I’ve heard five thousand times. As if Connie’s some wounded animal, like her voice makes her out to be.
But she turns on him, too. Whirling around to face our father, Connie stands. Setting her jaw, Connie folds her arms across her chest. “And you, Daddy, you’ve done nothing but encourage them this entire time.” Her voice loses some of its previous edge, replaced instead by heartache that her favorite parent would dare to be so cruel, as her frame begins to tremble.
Releasing Oliver’s hand, I move to stand by my favorite sibling. Gently, I grasp her shoulders. “Connie, it’s okay,” I whisper.
Sorrowful eyes cut to mine. She shakes her head. “No, it’s not, Calloway.” Those large emerald eyes swell with unshed tears.
Swallowing, I push down the guilt building in my core. All I wanted was to be seen as worth something in my family. Instead, the only one who has ever seemed to care about me within the walls of our childhood home is hurting. All because of me.
“You were right to enlist Oliver’s help,” Connie insists.
Dad rubs his face in disbelief. “Darling girl, are you saying you knew about this?” His soft eyes reserved only for Connie turn hard as they slide to me.
“I found out after Thanksgiving.”
Wide eyes take in his newly defiant daughter. “And you didn’t say anything?”
Connie lets out a humorless laugh. “What would you have wanted to hear, Daddy? That Calloway is finally happy? Because that was the main thing that changed. The man she brought to dinner did nothing but help her.”
Movement directly behind us lets me know that Chris is a lot closer than I’d like at this very moment. “By lying to us, Connie,” Chris interjects, “and through complete manipulation.” His hand clamps down on my shoulder, turning me toward his glare.
Connie snaps her heated gaze back to her twin. “You mean by not humoring your jokes at his girlfriend’s expense?”
“They’re not actually dating!” Chris shouts. “Or have you miraculously somehow missed that part in your crusade to rescue Calloway?”
