“I’m hurt, truly hurt.” No actual hurt on her face, Ami winked at Leo and plastered a pout on her lips. Her parents missed it in their shock. “You don’t think I’m capable of watching my baby brother? You left both of us with Elissa when she was only eighteen, and now you don’t want to leave the twenty-one-year-old in charge?”
“Ami, the one time we left you alone because you insisted you could handle it, we came back to find Elissa cleaning all the trash from the party you threw. She’s the responsible one.”
“And I’m the eternal fuckup, never able to live up to Miss Perfect, Elissa Wright, who never does anything wrong.”
“Swear jar, Ami,” Mom said automatically.
Now her sister looked hurt. Ami made mistakes, and Elissa envied her sister that ability. Because Elissa never could make mistakes. The stakes were too high. If she messed up, the carefully scaffolded world her parents built around this family, built around Leo, would come tumbling down. So Elissa became the reliable one, the one you called in a crisis, the one who always did the right thing and put family first.
Sometimes, she hated being the reliable one.
“Yeah, of course I’ll do it. I live here, after all.”
She hoped her offer would distract them from dredging up more of Ami’s poor choices.
“And you don’t have a social life, except for Jules,” Leo said. “She’ll just hang out here and raid the liquor cabinet.”
True. But also… “Hey!”
Ami dropped her chopsticks with a loud clatter. “And there’s Elissa, coming to the rescue. I don’t need you to rescue me anymore. I’m a big girl now. I’m done. No swear jar. I don’t live here anymore.”
She pushed her chair back.
“How about we forget the swear jar today?” Their dad covered Mom’s hand and sent a pleading glance at Ami. “We have a lot to celebrate.”
Ami froze, and all three kids looked at their mom.
“Yeah.” A tremulous smile formed on Dana’s lips. “We can forget the swear jar today. Please stay, Ami.”
Leo opened his mouth, about to let some four-letter word drop to test the waters.
Elissa kicked him in the shin. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Think about what?” He looked all to innocent.
“Yeah, don’t push it, doofus.” Ami ruffled his hair, and the tension left the room.
After dinner, Elissa cleared the table, then dashed off a quick note to Jules, letting her know Dana would be fine.
She chuckled as a screen full of happy emojis greeted the news.
ten
beg for a job
Ryan’s alarm woke him at six on Monday morning. He almost threw his phone across the room before he remembered why he’d set it so early. It was time to go begging. Today was going to suck.
What did one wear to beg for a job? A suit, of course. He pulled a wrinkled navy suit out of his closet and hung it in the bathroom to steam while he showered. He didn’t even own an iron. Steam poured out of the shower, and Ryan stepped over the edge of the tub and washed.
He still wasn’t sure selling out to his corporate overlord family would be worth it. But if he wanted access to his trust fund, this was his last chance. His attempts to convince a sophisticated woman to play girlfriend had failed, and not only was he not ready to explain his grand plan, but he wasn’t even sure he had one. A podcast and associated YouTube channel dedicated to the intersection of history, food, and culture were unlikely to inspire any confidence from his father. Even with a handful of completed scripts and a solid business plan, he’d think it was a waste of time, as he had the school plays, creative writing, and photography in high school. Ryan had excelled in those subjects, and had actual fun, but it wasn’t good enough for his father.
Shower thoughts. Sometimes he had strokes of genius, sometimes he overthought the only viable decision on the table. Sometimes, he imagined a curvy woman with lake-blue eyes was in the shower with him, her pretty pink lips?—
Enough.
He toweled off and dressed in a white shirt, a red and blue striped tie, and his navy suit. He looked at himself in the tiny mirror in his bathroom. A wrinkled mess stared back, uncomfortable in his own skin. Ryan yanked off the tie, tossed the jacket on the bed, and dug through his closet for his best pair of jeans. He pulled out a button-down short-sleeved shirt with a geometric pattern he liked. In a few minutes, he was eating toast in the kitchen and staring at the pile of research books. His fingers itched to pull out his laptop and work on the script. Now, when he needed to leave in a few minutes, did the ideas start flowing.
Mateo came out of Iz’s room as Ryan shoved his arms into his leather jacket.
