“Stop it, Daddy!” she squealed. “Your face hurts. You need to shave.”
“Shhh, you two,” Mom said. “We’re missing the interview.”
Dad tucked Addie onto his thigh.
“And what about Charlie Dupree?” Nate asked. “Can you explain to viewers the relationship between Cash and Charlie, since they share the same last name?”
“Anyone who’s readScars and Bestsellers, Tally Dupree’s memoir, knows that Charlie isn’t a Dupree by blood. Ashtonadoptedher when he married Tally.”
“Why did she just say that like it makes Charlie a peon in a family of royalty?” Mom asked. “Millie never got a switch to the backside. That’s for sure.”
I’d never had a switch to the backside but I understood the sentiment.
Nate settled back in his chair. “So where do you think Charlie Dupree’s been for the past year?”
“Why would he ask her that?” I said. “Millie never even met Charlie.”
Millie’s lips pursed, like she wassoabove gossip but justhadto tell the truth. “It’s really sad, actually,” she murmured, voice dropping. “Charlie had everything. A wealthy family who supported her, the world at her feet. But she squandered it. She spent years blowing through her family’s money. Wild parties. Designer clothes. Until her family cut off her credit cards.”
Mom scoffed.
Dad shook his head, incensed.
Maybe other celebrity families bankroll their kids' young adult years with no-limit credit cards, but not the Duprees. Hard work was as much a part of our DNA as the blood that gave us life. That’s what happens when you grow up on a ranch.
Every one of us had jobs in college. Except for Liam, who didn’t need to because he’d made money through NIL deals. My freshman job was cleaning carpets on campus with Griff. 10 pm to 2 am shift. Super prestigious. Along with Addie, I’d inherit a boatload of money when my parents passed—hopefully after they lived to be a hundred and fifteen. But for now, my parents expected me to earn my way through life, just like they had.
“And when that happened… well…” Millie shook her head in pity. “She crashed, I guess, because last year she ended up in rehab.”
Dad swore.
Mom shrieked.
“Oh no, she didn’t,” Addie said.
My hands tugged at my hair. “I can’t believe she did that. She just told the entire world that Charlie’s an addict.”
Mom shushed us again.
Millie tilted her head toward the host, all wide-eyed innocence. “I mean, addiction runs in the Dupree family, doesn’t it? Ford struggled for years with alcohol and drug addiction. So, you know, maybe Charlie never stood a chance.”
“Babe,” Dad said. “You’re digging into my back.”
Mom lifted her hands. “She does know that we can sue for defamation, doesn’t she?”
I rubbed my temples, trying to work out the headache that was forming. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
Nate agreed. “But you just said Charlie isn’t blood related.”
Millie’s eyes widened, realizing her mistake. But she recovered quickly. “Well, sure.” She huffed. “But Ford snuck them all drinks, underage, before he got clean. Cash told me that. So, like I said, she never stood a chance.”
I glanced over at my parents to see why they had no reaction to that insanity. But they were no longer watching Millie. They were watching Charlie, who was standing behind me, gaping at the TV like she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.
I winced, hating myself.
BecauseIdated Millie. Carelessly. Not vetting her nearly enough before bringing her into our lives. Not asking her to sign an NDA. Not thinking through the possibilities of what would happen when the relationship ended.
And now, Charlie—the only girl I’d ever loved—was standing here, gutted, taking the fall.
