Joni: I know. We’re working as hard as we can.
“What’s happening to your eyebrows?” Hopper asks, turning to face me. “Why are they all scrunched?”
I tell him what’s going on, leaving out any details that would send my parents running, and Hopper looks beside himself.
“Group homes are awful. Just awful,” he whispers, horrified. “They can’t leave her in there.”
He practically shouts the last part.
Liam tries to console him, but my dad reaches forward to grip Hopper’s shoulder.
“You know, there is an obvious solution.”
Oh man. I already know what’s coming next.
Mom and I share a look.
Hopper stares at him, his chest hitching rapidly, eyes wet with tears. “There is?”
“You’ve only known my son a couple of months, and you love him, right? Would give him the world?”
“I’d give him his trust if he would take it from me,” Hopper says, glaring at me in the rearview.
Mom goes from bemused with my father’s machinations to open-mouthed horror. “Hop wanted to give you a trust fund, and you refused it?”
“I tried to,” I grumble. “I just want to earn my way through life like Dad taught me.”
Dad whips around, giving me the same look I got when he found out I’d stolen bubble gum from the store. “Son, when did I ever teach you to throw good money away?” Holding up his hand as if he can’t with me, he addresses Hopper in the front. “How much is this trust we’re talking about? A couple million?”
Hopper snorts. “That’s how much it made in interest last quarter.”
Still ignoring me, Dad turns to Maverick. “Is he really complaining about being gifted that much money? Did I seriously raise someone so ungrateful?”
“I’m done with arguing with him about it,” Maverick says, completely abandoning me.
I drop my chin to my chest. “I have taken the money.”
This time, Mom and Dad do the simultaneous hand-to-chest thing, and it’s a lot less cute.
“By the way,” Maverick says with a shit-eating grin. “You do understand that means that you’ll hafta participate in our charity work, right?”
“I hadn’t thought about that, but of course.”
He rubs his hands together, and I sense I’ve stepped into a trap.
“Great. You’ll be perfect in my charity fashion show.”
Yep. Walked right into that one.
“You said I had a bad walk.”
“Don’t worry, Detective.” Mav bounces his brows. “I’ll show you the ropes.”
Ah, jeez.
Dad winks at me, then refocuses on Hopper.
Here we go.
