Their conversation dies down as I approach their table. Stephanie and Allison whisper conspiratorially among themselves. I ignore them, meeting Brittany’s gaze as I claim the empty seat beside her.
“I know you took my keycard last night,” I say.
She stabs a chunk of melon with her fork. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I sigh. “Look, I know you’re not happy to be sharing your dad with me and my mom this Thanksgiving, but you and I are probably going to be spending holidays together from now on—”
“Sharing?” she scoffs, dropping her fork onto the white tablecloth. “I’m not sharing anything! You’re the one who inserted herself into my family vacation. You and your cripple mother have been demanding attention and money from my dad.”
“We haven’t demanded anything,” I say, my tone sharp with irritation. “And my mom isn’t a ‘cripple,’ she has a chronic illness. You shouldn’t use that word to describe anyone. It’s hurtful.”
“Ooh, I think her feelings are hurt.” Stephanie giggles.
Brittany smirks. “Good. She should feel bad for trying to steal what’s mine.”
“I’m not trying to steal anything,” I tell her.
“You already stole my hotel room! And don’t think I haven’t noticed you sucking up to my dad. Just because your own dad was a sketchy low-life criminal doesn’t mean you can just swap him out for mine.”
My throat closes. How the hell does she know that about my dad?
“We Googled your family last night,” Allison says, answering my unspoken question. “Sounds like your dad got what he deserved.”
My hands curl into fists. Something snaps inside of me, redirecting the anger I’ve been carrying for my father toward the pampered bitches in front of me. I shove my chair back so quickly it topples to the ground, no doubt drawing everyone’s attention to the drama playing out at our table.
Stephanie and Allison gasp.
“Oh my god—”
“She’s gone crazy!”
“Shut up,” I snap. “You two assholes know exactly what you’re doing. And you—” I aim the full force of my anger at Brittany’s smug expression. “—don’t deserve half of what your privileged upbringing has given you. From the moment we met, all you’ve done is bitch and whine and insult me and my mother. You’re miserable, and you make everyone around you miserable, too.”
Brittany’s mouth drops open in shock. She looks like she’s about to launch a retort, but I cut her off.
“I grew up with nothing. No, less than nothing. But my parents made damn sure I knew how much they loved me every single day. And my dad may have been a criminal, but at least he wanted to spend time with me. It’s no wonder Christian only tries to see you on holidays. I bet you barely pay attention to him even when it’s just the two of you.”
She blusters, “That’s not true—”
“Isn’t it? The only reason you care about me ‘stealing’ him is because you’re afraid he’s going to stop spoiling your pampered ass. You don’t care about him as a person. He’s just an ATM to you. But trust me, you’ll regret not appreciating him when he’s gone.”
My own statement hits like a bullet to the heart. I’ve been so bitter toward my father since I learned about his ties to the criminal underworld a year and a half ago. I let that bitterness grow and fester, tarnishing his memory. Now he’s dead.
He’s just…gone.
Brittany blinks, seemingly at a loss for words, as she slides her mask of smugness back into place. “Are you done?”
I bite my bottom lip to stop it from trembling. I refuse to cry in front of these assholes.
“Yeah. I’m done.” I turn to go, then gasp as I almost collide with a broad, hard chest.
Christian gazes down at me, his expression unreadable. I have no idea how long he’s been standing there, in his track pants and tee shirt, listening to me go off on his daughter. My chest tightens. I brace myself for the reprimand. Brittany’s a nightmare, but she’s not my sister. He probably thinks I overstepped.
Instead of chastising me, he moves to stand at my side.
“Brittany, you’ve been nothing but rude this entire trip,” he says. “If you don’t turn your attitude around, this’ll be the last trip I take you on.”
Her mouth opens and closes like a fish’s gob. “Are you kidding me? Did you not hear what she just said to me?”
“I heard every word.”
Christian’s gaze slants in my direction as he turns on his heel and heads out of the cafe. Something about the firm line of his mouth leaves an uneasy feeling in my stomach. All at once, I recall the whole reason I came down here, to talk to him about last night, and follow him outside.
I catch up to him on the walkway leading back to the guest suites.
“Christian, wait.” I grasp his arm, and he spins around to face me with a stormy expression.