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“The airline finally found my luggage,” I say with glee. “It’ll be at your apartment by nine tomorrow morning.”

He points at the pink T-shirt I’m wearing. “That’s great news, but you’ve managed just fine without your own clothes. That T-shirt is something else, Ava.”

I chuckle. “Yesterday afternoon I went through the box of clothes I left at your place. I donated everything but this. I’ve been waiting for you to comment on it.”

“What can I possibly say about a T-shirt with a logo of big red, sparkly lips?” He laughs. “I’m curious to see Sean’s reaction to it at dinner tonight.”

I am too.

“I’ll help you move your luggage to your new place. When do you get the keys?”

“Tomorrow,” I say with a clap of my hands. “Bright and early tomorrow, I move in.”

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Harrison

I toss my mother a look meant to convey that I’m pissed, but as usual, she’s oblivious to it. Her gaze is cast on the phone in her hand, which isn’t surprising since she’s texting a man who just invited her to the south of France for ten days.

“You’ll take care of Roxy, right?” she asks while still staring at her phone.

Since my sister is standing less than two feet away from me, waiting for my answer, I sigh. “Of course I will.”

This isn’t the first time my mother has dropped my youngest sister in my lap while she’s taken off with a guy. She’s on the hunt for a husband and is willing to travel to every corner of the globe to secure one.

This new guy is French, a sculptor, and wants to meet in person after spending the past month chatting up my mother online.

“You’re the best, Harrison,” my mother tosses those words out as though she means them.

Ryden is the best when he does her a favor. Joslyn is the best when she rearranges her schedule to accommodate whatever our mother needs.

We all know that Roxy is her favorite, and she rightfully should be. She’s young, filled with promise, and hasn’t disappointed our mother yet.

“Will you take me out for pizza three times?” Roxy takes a step closer to where I’m sitting on one of the stools in my kitchen.

“I’ll make pizza once,” I counter.

Her nose scrunches. “Without anything green on it?”

“You like arugula,” I point out. “Spinach too.”

A long-winded sigh falls from her lips. “Not on pizza, Harrison.”

“This is what I love.” Our mother claps her hands together. “My oldest is getting on so well with my youngest.”

There may be more than twenty years separating my sister and me, but I’d jump in front of a speeding train to save her life. I’d do that for any of my siblings, even though I’d never admit it to Ryden.

“I’m leaving on Friday,” she informs us. “That gives me plenty of time to spruce up my wardrobe and pack.”

Roxy rubs her index finger and thumb together while silently mouthing the word “money” to me.

I shake my head because I’m not tossing a penny my mother’s way to fund this trip. The check I wrote her the other day is more than sufficient to cover her expenses for at least half of the year. She can look to one of my siblings if she wants more for her latest European adventure.

I stand, skimming my hand over the front of my black slacks to chase away a piece of lint. “I have plans, so if you’ll both excuse me.”

Roxy’s hands drop to her hips. The denim overalls she’s wearing are her regular weekend attire. That, along with the bright yellow sweatshirt underneath, is enough to make our mother’s blood boil. She firmly believes in the old adage that ‘you are what you wear,’ but Roxy’s a kid who wants to dress as one when she’s not burdened with the expectations that come with her school uniform.

“What plans?” my sister asks with a perked eyebrow. “Do you have a date?”

“With my best friend and his fiancée for dinner,” I tell her. “Play your cards right, and I’ll invite them over here for dinner while mom’s away.”

“Sean and Callie?” Roxy claps her hands. “I love them.”

I’d ask her to tag along tonight, but I’m wiped. A hard workout this afternoon and little sleep last night left me exhausted. I spent my Saturday night at the office dealing with a sourcing issue for some of the products for Food Harmony. Joslyn offered to pitch in to help, but she handles the recipe part of the business equation. I’m the one who is delegated everything else.

I would have given the venture more thought if I knew the gravity of the responsibility that came with it. On top of Food Harmony, I oversee the operations of a handful of other businesses, including two that survived my grandfather’s death. Very capable individuals run the software company my grandfather founded when he was my age and the string of electronic stores that branched off from that.


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