Page 16 of Shaken and Stirred


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Mom stood, pressing a hand to her chest. “I’ll figure something out,” she mumbled as though this was a serious problem she had to solve. “Excuse me. I’m late for Pilates.” She left the room, abandoning her uneaten fruit plate for the staff to deal with.

“That went well,” I muttered.

“What’s up with you?” Vera’s voice made me jump. She stared at me as she blew on her coffee. Unlike our mother, she had a makeup-free face and her blonde hair in a messy bun atop her head while wearing an old sweatshirt of mine with flannel pajama pants. “You left school, you’re getting a job, are you having a quarter-life crisis or something?”

“I didn’t leave school. I’m changing schools.”

And my degree.

“Hmm.” Her eyes narrowed. “Interesting.”

I squirmed beneath her meddlesome gaze, then tugged at the collar of my hoodie. Had I gained weight? Why the hell did it feel like it was strangling me? “What the hell does that mean?Interesting?” I screwed up my face and exaggerated her tone.

A grin broke out across Vera’s face. We share the same coloring, light skin that tanned easily, and blond hair we were lucky enough not to have to pay to achieve. We also shared blue eyes, but hers were darker, almost navy, especially when she was sticking her nose in my business.

“No need to get defensive, big brother. It doesn’t mean anything. Usually, people have a reason for the things they do, and I’m just wondering what yours is.”

I pulled my plate back to me with too much force, sending the toast sliding onto the white tablecloth. “I didn’t realize you’d changed your major from chemistry to psychology.” Even I heard how defensive that sounded. Scowling, I stuffed a bite into the toast with enough force to crack a tooth.

I should have asked for pancakes. Cora never failed to rock my favorite breakfast. I’d eaten in five-star restaurants across the globe, but nothing beat her homemade family recipe she’d been making me since I was in diapers.

“Har, har.”

We ate in silence for a few moments. I tried to keep from overthinking, but since I’d left school, the entire month beforeleaving, overthinking had become my default. There was a solution to it—tell my father why I’d decided to transfer schools. There’d be a blowup like never before, but it would be done, and my poor, overworked brain could finally have a break.

But I just couldn’t.

Not yet.

Too bad Vera wasn’t a psychology major. Maybe then she’d be able to help me screw my head on right.

“Hey, Ry…” Vera set her coffee mug down as she speared me with an intense look I’d never seen from her. “I know you think of me as the silly kid sister who always annoys the crap outta you, but I’m more than that. We’re both adults now, and I want you to know I have your back. Whatever you’re going through, you don’t have to tell me.” She held up a hand to stop me from protesting before the words could leave my mouth. “I just want you to know I’m here if you do want to talk or if you need some moral support. I’m not our parents, and I won’t react the same way they would, even if it’s something bad.”

With that, she nodded once, then continued to work on her stack of pancakes. Maybe Cora had made enough for me. My stomach cramped, reminding me why I’d asked for toast.

I blinked and paused with the toast halfway to my lips, frozen in place by the sincerity in her voice. Was she right? Did I still see her as the girl who used to crush on my friends and steal my shit when she’d become my equal?

“Wow, V, thanks.” I lowered the toast to my plate. “That… that really means a lot.”

She shrugged as though her simple words hadn’t shaken my foundation. “You’re my only sibling. We should stick together.”

She’d beaten me out in the maturity department, that was for sure. We’d never been super close, but we’d never had a contentious relationship either. It was more of one where she did her thing, and I did mine. Clearly, she wanted that tochange. My insides warmed. Maybe I wanted our relationship to change as well. Now that we lived under the same roof again, for however briefly, we had a chance to strengthen our bond.

Sharing with her might be the best way to do that.

“I, uh, I’m thinking of, well, I have changed my field of study for my Master’s.” I kept my eyes cast down, staring at the coffee in my mug.

“Wow, really? Will it be hard to work with Dad’s company without an MBA?” She didn’t sound judgmental or disapproving, only curious.

That lack of judgment had me lifting my gaze to meet hers. “Well, that’s the thing. I, uh, I don’t want to work with Dad’s company, and I definitely don’t want to run it someday. I never have.”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times before a “Really?” squeaked out.

“Really? That’s all you’ve got for me? Really?”

Her sheepish grin and shrug made me roll my eyes.

“Sorry, I’m just surprised. You’ve never expressed interest in anything else.” She frowned. “Actually, you’ve never expressed interest in working with Dad either. It’s always just been assumed you would.”