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“Of course I do,” she said, pointing at herself. “I’m the damn farm manager, Dad. I know we’re doing fine. We’re not billionaires, but nobody’s starving around here. And did you really think I wouldn’t notice what an ass you all were being in the news? That stupid feud should have never started to begin with. Julien and I got a little carried away, but it was nobody’s business but ours. Did you think I would just stand by and let you all drag our good names through the mud? Did you think I wouldn’t notice you all bought the new farm and paid cash? Do you all think I wouldn’t notice the Brites dropping ten million at the auctions? How stupid do you all think I am?”
She waited. No one wanted to touch that question. Wise decision.
“Here’s the thing,” Remi said, and took Julien’s hand in hers. “I had my suspicions, and I needed someone in the Brite family to help me confirm them. Julien did. And in addition to helping us get all this lovely evidence, he and I, well, how would you put it?”
“We’re in love,” Julien said. “Madly and completely in love. For starters.”
“What do you want with us?” Mr. Brite, Julien’s stern father, asked.
“That is a fantastic question,” Remi said. “And luckily we have a fantastic answer. Capital Hills has a nice crop of yearlings. Arden just bought a second farm. You’re going to give me and Julien the yearlings and the farm. We’ll sell the yearlings and you all can call it a donation. Oh, and we want Shenanigans and Hijinks too. You all don’t deserve those horses.”
“You want what?” Mr. Brite asked, utterly aghast.
“A plague on both your horses!” Merrick shouted.
Remi turned around and glared at him.
“Sorry,” he said. “I always wanted to say that.”
“We want your ill-gotten gains,” Julien said. “And we’re going to use them for good. Remi and I are going to turn the farm into an equine therapy non-profit to help sick, disabled, and poor teenagers. And you all are funding it. Congrats. Criminals to philanthropists in one afternoon.”
“We are, are we?” her father asked, sounding both angry and skeptical. “I’m not entirely sure I’m on board with this plan.”
“Tough shit,” Remi said. “You lost your vote in this matter when you put our entire farm and our family’s reputation at risk. You all should be ashamed of yourselves. And even if you’re not, you’re going to make amends for it anyway.”
“She’s so sexy when she gets tough like this,” Merrick said.
“Totally agree,” Julien said, and he and Merrick fist-bumped.
“The Brites and the Montgomerys can’t simply start a non-profit together,” Mrs. Brite said. “We’re incorporated businesses. And the rivalry in the press-”
“Is over,” Remi said. “Done. Finished. Kaput. It’s history. Now and forever. And you all will be holding a press conference in one week to announce to the world that the feud is over. The Brites and the Montgomerys have forgiven each other. The press will eat it up. Then you’ll announce that the creation of Shenanigans—a day camp that will be funded by Arden Farms and Capital Hills for needy, sick, and disabled teenagers. And you won’t be taking another cent from Tyson Balt ever again. You won’t be betting money on horse-racing ever again. And you won’t be throwing another race. Ever. Again.”
Remi paused and let the words sink in.
“And if we don’t?” Mr. Brite asked after a minute’s pause.
“Your son and I will be giving the racing commission a call.”
“You’d turn on us? Your own family?” her father asked.
“Me? I’m the one turning on the family?” Remi was aghast. “You got greedy and put our good name and reputation at stake. Julien and I could have just called the commission. Instead we’re giving you all a way to exit this idiocy with grace and dignity.”
“I don’t even know who you are anymore. This isn’t the Remi Montgomery I know and love,” her mother said in her most scolding tone.
“No, it isn’t,” Remi said. “Because I’m not Remi Montgomery.”
“What?” her mother gasped.
“She’s Remi Brite,” Julien said with a wide victorious smile. “We got married in Paris. Merrick took pictures.”
“They’re right here,” Merrick said and held up his iPhone. “Doesn’t Remi look pretty in her dress? I picked it out. Oh, and here’s the marriage document-license-thingie.” He held the certificate up for the room to see. “Voila!That’s French for ‘Voila!’.”
“It’s a good thing we did get married,” Remi said, turning to kiss him quick on the mouth. “The nurse said family only was allowed in your room. I wrote her a little note that said I’m your wife and these are your in-laws.”
“Hi, in-laws,” Julien waved at the room.
“You got married?” Mrs. Brite breathed, staring bug-eyed at her son.
