She was the youngest of us, and it showed. We had spoiled her more than we should have. I scowled at her words, aware that I had helped create the little monster in the kitchen, but that didn’t mean Inez wasn’t right.
I had always done what was needed. Always.
“Just because she’s dependable—” Brian began, but Inez laughed that mean laugh I was so unaccustomed to hearing. Where had she been lately? Who had influenced her like this?
But my mind spun away from Inez’s whereabouts with her next words.
“Dependable like a workhorse. Del is good for work and nothing else. Don’t you know that yet? She’s basically doing our work right now and you know what? I’m not up for changing it.” I heard the sound of a chair being pushed back and scraping against the wood of the kitchen floor. “You can get ready for the Martinez showing, but I’m not. She can handle it.”
Brian said nothing for a beat, and then he spoke. “When are you going to tell her?”
“An hour before,” Inez replied without hesitation. “Tell her I’m sick or something. She’ll swoop in and do all the work. Daddy will be happy and I’ll be well into my cocktail.”
“Inez…” Brian’s voice trailed off, but I knew what would happen. He was only older than her by a year, a span of time that vanished when they were together. Inez steamrolled him into following whatever plan she had. I knew this would be the same, and I felt rage burn in my chest at the pair of them.
How could they do something like that? How could they expect me to pick up one more thing? To clean up their mess, and for what? Drinks? They were twenty-four and twenty-five for god sake, not sixteen!
I stayed where I was in the hallway while my brother and sister finished their planning while I did their work of showing and snagging a much-needed client. The Martinez investment would be a game changer for us.
For my father.
My eyes fluttered closed at the thought and I swallowed back a sigh. Of course I would do the showing. There was no other way.
Once they left the kitchen I slunk in, head down as I made a beeline for the cake I had finished that morning. Lemon curd with buttercream frosting: perfect for some emotional eating.
Inez’s words stung. She’d called me dependable, a workhorse, good for nothing but work. She made me sound like a robot. I’d barely turned thirty and everyone knew thirty was the new twenty! I was practically a newborn in the eyes of the world, and yet...what did I have to show for it?
I frowned, my eyes dropping to the cake slice. I had always dreamed of being a pastry chef or a baker, something that allowed me to feed people sweet treats and bask in that smile they got when taking that first bite of heaven.
I’d taken a few baking courses at the local cooking school. I had even been pretty good, and I’d contemplated full-time enrollment, but then my dad had opened his business. I’d gotten sucked into helping his dreams come true. It was only supposed to be for a few months, but that quickly became a year and then two... and now?
It had been seven years.
Where had my life gone? Seven long years of working with only family, no social life, no special trips, and no fancy clothes.
I had utterly forgotten about me.
“What the fuck?” I whispered, shoving my cake away with a shaky breath.
Where had I gone? Inez was right.
The little monster was right.
I had to do something. I had to stop being dependable. But that was something which required time and space. If I was here, there was no way I would be able to not help. I was self-aware enough to know staying home in Texas wasn’t an option; hell, even hopping the state line wouldn’t be near enough space, which was saying something coming from a state that took 14-plus hours to traverse.
No, I had to go somewhere far. Far, far away, where they wouldn’t think dependable Delilah would go.
Grabbing my phone, I pulled up a travel site and began to scroll through available options. My fingers froze when they came across the words Apprentice Now! Travel for Free!
I bit my lip and stared down at the link. I could work easily enough, right? Inez had said as much, hadn’t she? Who cared where I went, so long as I got space to remember who I was. I had plenty in my bank account to make an escape if things took an indentured servant turn.
My eyes scanned the list of available destinations and I raised an eyebrow.
Los Angeles? Not far enough away.
Canada? Still not far enough.
Paris? Predictable. Even for dependable Delilah.
