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He pulled a checkbook out of his desk and wrote a number on it and held it up for me to see.
My jaw dropped; it was double the money. I eyed him suspiciously. "All this for one little word?"
He smirked. "Trust me when I say the size of the word doesn't come close to measuring the size of the subject."
My subconscious rubbed her hands gleefully; he was offering me a way to make him pay for his smart mouth—literally.
"Mr. Carter, you're clearly trying to back me into a corner and embarrass me, but it won't work. I can say with confidence that we'll raise enough money without your contribution."
"That might be, but we both know this would go a very long way toward helping."
I rested one hand on my his tapped a finger against my mouth with the other. "You know, I think I was wrong. I don't think you're scared of my dad. I think you're scared of me. You don't know how to handle a real woman." I tilted my head and studied him. "Your loss, Mr. Carter. You remind me a lot of a rooster I once saw."
"A rooster?"
"Mmhmm. He strutted around, crowing about himself and thinking all the hens would come a’runnin when they saw him."
His mouth quirked even as his eyes narrowed. "Which is it, Grace? A jackass or a rooster?"
I grinned. "Definitely a rooster. The lazy kind at that."
Once again, he looked at me with a curious expression.
"Yep. You know, the one who wakes up in the morning and says, 'Cock a doodle don't.'"
His jaw dropped. I snatched the check from his hand, and skipped to the door, pausing only a second to wave my fingers over my shoulder before flying down the hallway. My heart raced as I waited for him to chase me or send someone to stop me. But as I reached the elevator door, all I heard was a roar of laughter in the distance.
7
Grace
Ever since I'd fled from Jax's office two days ago, I'd been a mess of nerves with some anger and disappointment thrown in for good measure. Needing a distraction, I called my sisters. If nothing else, I hoped Laurel would have some Hollywood drama to share to distract me from my own.
Laurel had a leading role playing “Mandy” in the popular daytime soap opera, Hidden Passions. She was the youngest out of four of us, but by far had the most interesting life living out in Los Angeles. Our oldest sister, Faith, was married and embracing motherhood with her five-year-old son, Caleb. She was like a prettier, friendlier version of Martha Stewart. The second eldest, Angela, or Angie as we called her, was a trauma nurse whom we rarely saw due to her crazy schedule. The stress of the job had started to burn her out, so she was taking classes to become a physical therapist. I came third in the order. We older three were like a straight staircase, each about 20 months apart. Laurel had been a "surprise" three years after me.
Once a month, my sisters and I tried to get together at one of our homes, with Laurel facetiming so she wasn’t left out. Sometimes we invited a friend or two, but tonight would just be us. I loved these times when we could kick back and not worry about how much we drank or what we said—our safe zone so to speak. We called them "Girls Night In," or "GNI." We went to a large church, so it was hard not to run into at least one person who knew us if we went out as a group. Most of them didn't worry about what we were up to, but others enjoyed trying to bring us down, never mind that they might be doing the same thing. Fair or not, we were held to a higher standard.
GNI was based on a tradition that had been started by our mother when we were teenagers. With four girls, there was no shortage of drama. Our mom would gather us all around the kitchen table with a piece of cheesecake, a favorite of all of ours. We’d talk about what was going on at school, the latest boy, or anything else we wanted. It was a non-judgmental time, and under our mother’s strong guidance, we’d learned to voice our conc
erns and respectfully offer input, advice, or just a sympathetic ear. We didn’t tell her everything, and I’m sure she knew it. But we did learn we could trust each other which I think was her ultimate goal.
The only difference now was we had added alcohol and were a lot raunchier. Each of us took turns hosting the event, and tonight was my turn. Unlike Faith, who always made her own cheesecake, I’d had to purchase mine. But I’d made a fantastic sangria and had a couple bottles of wine open and ready to pour.
The doorbell rang. I glanced at the clock and saw it was exactly seven o’clock, which meant it was probably Faith. She was never early, never late. I always wondered if she came early and stood outside with a watch, or if she was just that good at timing everything.
“Hey, Sis,” she greeted as she came inside, a basket covering some treat she had baked. As she gave me a peck on the cheek, I rested my hand on her arm, looking closely at her face.
“You okay, honey?”
Her nod seemed tired, and her smile was not as full as usual. It looks like I’m not the only one who needs my sisters tonight.
Before I could close the door, Angie’s voice rang out, “I’m here! Wait for me.” She paid the Uber driver and ran to the door.
The three of us filled our glasses and settled in to chow down on cheesecake and the brownies Faith had made while we chatted about nothing in particular.
My computer started chiming. “Oh, that’s Laurel!”
“Hey, girls!” Laurel greeted. We heard a small ‘pop’ as she opened a wine bottle. “Looks like y’all are way ahead of me. Let me get caught up. It’s been a long and crazy day here.” She sank back into what looked like the most comfortable couch ever.
