“Sounds like someone’s been doing their homework.”
“A concept you’re clearly unfamiliar with.”
Evan grins, tilting his head to the side. “But exclusivity can be a double-edged sword. Don’t you think it alienates potential customers?”
I sigh. He’s asking dumb questions, like he’s testing me. If I hadn’t spent the entire summer working in an office that treated me like I was invisible, I wouldn’t have the answers.
“Only if the brand isn’t careful. You’re supposed to balance exclusivity with accessibility. Like offering a premium line for the elite and a more affordable one for the general market. Keeps everyone interested.”
He hums. “True. What about brand loyalty?”
“What about it? I saw the stats. You’re losing thousands of customers each year because you don’t change anything. Unless you’re stealing ideas from us.” His face falls, and I smile, pushing my hair over my shoulder. “Imitationisthe sincerest form of flattery, I suppose.”
“Hm.”
“We’re setting trends. You guys are not. Maybe you should try creating something original,” I say brightly, like I’m just giving a friend advice. His eyes narrow. I smile harder. “Oh, and by the way, your tie’s crooked.”
I watch as he opens his mouth and closes it after a beat. His eyes look like they want to say more, but he doesn’t. And I couldn’t be happier that he’s finally shut the fuck up.
I lean back in my seat, feeling a little bit lighter than before.
CHAPTER FOUR: SCARLETT
I can’t get my heart to stop racing.
I feel sick. Like horribly, terribly, sick. This was a bad idea. I should’ve just sucked it up and settled with what I already have instead of trying to ask for more.
After I park in the driveway of my parents’ house, I drop my hands from the wheel and lean back against the headrest. I need to get my breathing under control. Confronting my parents isn’t anything new to me. Being the youngest daughter means it’s practically in my blood to argue with my parents. So I don’t know why, sitting in the car outside my childhood home, everything feels different.
The house covers eight thousand square feet by the Wastach Mountains, stunning brownstone with ivy and vines stretching across the walls. It’s straight out of a fairy tale, a mystical land where kids grow up to be anything they dream they could be.
There’s always been a magical glow around this place, childhood memories that scream at full volume in pictures framed behind glass. Like how my brothers and I would spend summer days swimming in the pool or hosting our annual Voss family pickleball tournament with our cousins. My parents would go all out for Easter, and we’d have to search the entire property for our eggs and there’d be different prizes each time. And the puppet shows Leo would do for me and Junior when we were kids, where he’d stay up past his bedtime to make sure we fell asleep, and looked after us all through the night.
Something clatters against my window, and I jump, jolting from my daydream. I turn to find Junior with a handful of gravel as he grins at me.
Of all my brothers, he looks the most like me—same brown hair, same shade of brown eyes—but while I’m five-seven, he has a couple more inches on me. We could easily pose as twins when we were younger since we’re only three years apart in age, but now that we’ve both grown into our features we’re starting to look more like our parents. Which is both wonderful and horrifying.
Junior stares at me.
I stare back.
When neither of us speaks, he throws another chip of gravel at my window just to make himself laugh, and that’s where I draw the line.
Apart from my family and the girls, this car is the most important thing in my life. With red stitching on the seats and a sound system perfect for my late-night drives, my Lamborghini Urus is my baby, and I won’t allow my brother to scratch its perfect windows.
I roll down the window and Junior leans forward, poking his head through. “Are you coming inside or what?”
He smells distinctly like . . .
The realization hits me. “Did you guys order takeout without me and you knew I was coming over?”
His eyes widen like I’ve just busted a secret between my brothers I was definitelynotsupposed to know. As if I wouldn’t smell the greasy indulgence our parents would treat us with when we were kids. LettuceFeedU has some of the best burgers this country has to offer and my family ordering it without me being there is a crime.
“I-We-I-I didn’t think you were still coming,” Junior argues, the apples of his cheeks turning red. I just glare at him even harder. “It’s been, like, two months, Scar.”
“It’s been four weeks. And I told you guys in the sibling group chat that I was going to talk to Mom and Dad about what happened this summer.”
“Oh. Right. That’s why you look like you’re about to go to a conference.”
