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"Nope. Just little old me." Denise smiles at me over her wine glass again as she goes to take another sip. "When I was three, my mom bought the bakery, which became her side project. But it was a struggle. It was a lot more work, and she had very little help. They wouldn't have the money to adopt again. But then a miracle happened. She got pregnant and gave birth to a healthy baby boy."
"That's amazing," I reply.
She smiles again. "Isn't it? They told her she was completely infertile, but in fact, there was just a small chance for her to conceive. Which she proved again a few years later when she had Sheila."
Denise purses her lips. "You remember Sheila, right? At the bar? The blond one."
"The really annoyed one, right?"
This makes her laugh too. "Not at you. She just wanted that night to be perfect for me. She knows things have been stressful."
I nod, running my spoon through my soup again. "But you didn't give up the bakery," I say. "What about your brother?"
"Oh, Austin?" She shrugs. "He thought he could do more with it. And that's probably true. That's what he does, after all. But… I just couldn't bear to part with it. It's the last bit of my mother that I have."
I feel the sensation of something crumpling like a tin can in my chest.
"Besides," she continues. "It's my birthright. Well, maybe more like my adopt-right." She giggles at her own wordplay, and I get the feeling the wine might be starting to go to her head. But soon her smile is soon replaced by a frown.
"He talked to me after the will was read," she says, tracing the rim of her wineglass with her finger. "Tried to get me to sell. Said that I might be Sylvia Lawson's oldest child, buthewas technically herfirstborn." Her nose wrinkles in disgust.
"That's terrible," I say.
"That's Austin," she corrects. "He's always been the blunt one of the family. Knows what he wants and pressures anyone around to give it to him." After a moment, she shrugs. "I guess that's why he's so successful. Better Horizons Realty wasn't going to build itself up from the ground, was it?"
My spoon slips from my fingers, clattering into my bowl. Soup flies into the air and splatters across my white shirt, staining it in streaks of red.
"Oh no!" Denise stands and, dipping the corner of her napkin in her glass of water, walks over to help me wipe it up. Her hand starts to stroke my chest, but I barely notice her touch, our closeness, as my mind is still reeling. "Are you okay?"
"I—I'm fine," I stutter. "Gazpacho's cold, so it didn't burn." Grasping her hand, I gently push her napkin off of me. "Thank you, but it's fine. I can afford a new shirt."
Better Horizons. That's what she said, wasn't it?
No.
That volcano in my chest erupts, turning into an angry plume of sparks. I feel lied to. I feel cheated. And, on Denise's behalf, I feel immeasurably betrayed.
Austin Lawson is her brother. He owns Better Horizons Realty.
Austin Lawson.
"A. L."
What the fuck?
* * *
The drive homeis quiet as the reality of what I've been sent here to do crashes through my mind. While so many of my questions have been answered, a whole new crop of them burns in their place.
That's why nothing about this job has felt right. When I first received Denise's files, I knew there was something about her. Something more to her case than what was said.
My mind was filled with excuses for why I needed to take her business from her, and I struggled for a good way to convince her, which only became so much worse after meeting her. But now that all made sense.
I wasn't here to acquire a business genuinely. This was all about inter-sibling rivalry. Spite over the reading of a will and a loving mother's dying wishes.
I'm angry. I'm pissed. But I also recognize the part I've played in this shit show.
If Denise finds out why I came here and who sent me, it would crush her. She loves her family more than anything. Even her bastard of a brother.
