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Fuck, I feel so stupid. I didn’t put that together because my mom would throw us the biggest parties every year to show off. We lived in an expensive home. When we wanted something, we got it. My parents sucked at the emotions, but in its place was materialistic possessions because my family has never lacked for money. Even if I quit working tomorrow, the trust fund I was given when I graduated from college from my grandparents meant I was set for life.
Bree never discusses money. I knew she had to find a new place to live by the end of the year, but I didn’t know she was struggling. Then again, how would I know? I’ve never asked about her money situation, and she’s never brought it up. I guess I assumed she was doing okay since she turned down Benitez when he tried to buy her out of her contract.
The thought has me cringing because once again, I’m an idiot. I’ve never owned anything sentimental before. Everything I buy is strictly business. I buy properties and sell them. But this coffeehouse isn’t just a business to her—it’s her heart. That’s why she took Brody’s advice to try to distribute her products, so she can make more profit. She’s been busting her ass, baking every damn day for several hours a day so she can simply survive.
Me: We’re going to handle the party, right?
Brody: I don’t know… She might get upset that we overstepped.
“Yes!” Evie squeals. “You landed on my Crusty Crab,” she says to her brother. “You owe me fifty dollars.” Her smile spreads across her face and twin dimples pop out—identical to her mom’s.
“Hey, Miles,” she says when he grudgingly hands her the money. “Wouldn’t it be cool if this money was real? We could buy Mommy a new house, and she’d be so happy.”
That does it… I type out a text to Brody: We’re giving these kids a party to remember, and then we’re going to work on convincing Bree to move in with us.
Some might assume my wanting her to move in with us is because of her money situation, but the truth is, I miss the hell out of her since the kids got home and she stopped spending the night. If we can solve her financial problems and have her and the kids under our roof, why wouldn’t I be all for it? Bree is ours forever—and that means spending our lives together under one roof. The sooner that happens, the better.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
AUBREE
My kids are nine years old today. My once teeny tiny babies are nine freaking years old. It’s also the day of their party. I’ve tried to make the party as special as possible but feel like I’ve failed because it isn’t what they wanted… what they hoped for.
My kids aren’t spoiled brats—contrary to what they sounded like the other day when listing off all the stuff they wanted for their parties. But since they go to a private school—that my in-laws insisted on paying for because I can’t afford it, and it was Peter’s wish for them to attend the same private school he went to—they come across children who are well off and some are downright wealthy. And because kids don’t actually understand the value of a dollar, and I refuse to burden them with my financial woes, they don’t understand that what they were asking for costs a lot of money.
So I lied and told them that a lot of people are on vacation because it’s the summer, and I wasn’t able to find any of the stuff they want. And then I pushed Brody and Hayden away when they were only trying to help by finding me vendors that I could book at the last minute. A part of it was because I was embarrassed for them to show up at the party and see it’s lacking everything they can afford—it’s the reason I don’t invite them up to my place unless necessary. And the other part—which has me feeling like shit—is that I resented the fact that they could afford everything I can’t. They sent me bounce houses and clowns and a princess that would probably make my daughter cry in happiness and didn’t even consider the cost…because they don’t have to.
Now, it’s the day of the party, and I wish I hadn’t pushed them away. All they want is to be a part of my life, and I keep shoving them out the door at every turn, which is unfair to them on many levels.
I consider texting and telling them I’d love for them to be there today, but my pride prevents me from actually typing out the message.
Evie steps out of her room, twirling in the American Girl leopard dress Beatrice bought her that matches her doll, and my heart sinks as I wonder if I made a mistake by not selling out of my lease. It would’ve meant having money in the bank since the little bit of savings I have is dwindling quickly, thanks to the distributors raising their prices, and Heart’s turning a smaller profit because of it. And on top of that, I’ve been looking at apartments, and holy shit, the kids and I will be living in a damn shoebox—if we’re lucky. But when I imagine my grandparents’ pride and joy being demolished, I know I did the right thing. Besides, if I sold out of the lease, I’d either have to find a new job or open Heart’s somewhere else. And since everything has gone up in price, wherever I find to lease will put me back in the position I’m in now.
