She blinked.
“What?”
“A real one. Intelligence work. Classified operations. Aunt Effie spelled it out, not dramatically, but clearly.”
Amy’s brows lifted slowly. “That… explains nothing about your face.”
“Correct. Separate chaos.”
I wrapped my hands around my mug again.
“Ian and I think Aunt Effie kept that letter in the safety deposit box so no one would find out. You know that she left journals and notes in the house for me—ordinary ones. But that one? She locked it away. Protected it. Probably knowing that eventually I’d be the one to read it.”
Amy absorbed that quietly.
“At the moment,” I continued, lowering my voice instinctively even though we were alone, “Ian and I decided to keep it between us… and you and Beau.”
Her expression shifted slightly at Beau’s name.
“That is,” I added lightly, “if you two are still together.” Before she could respond, I leaned forward. “Don’t you think it’s time you told me what’s going on?”
Amy didn’t answer right away. She stared into her tea for a long moment, then lifted her eyes to mine.
“Your brother Thomas has a problem.”
That unsettled me and I quickly asked, “What kind of problem?”
She set her mug down carefully on the island counter, as if the explanation required both hands free.
“Lola asked him to co-sign a loan,” she said. “She wants to start a makeup line. Private label, boutique branding, all the buzzwords.”
I blinked. “Makeup.”
Amy gave a small, almost tired smile. “Yes. Apparently, the world needs another luxury lip gloss.”
“And Thomas signed?”
She nodded. “She made it sound temporary. She said she just needed someone with clean credit to secure startup funding. She’d refinance once the business was generating revenue.”
“That sounds…” I paused. “…fast.”
“It was,” Amy said. “And he knew it. But she was convincing.”
I could imagine it. Lola in full persuasion mode, dramatic, persuasive, tearful if necessary.
“What changed?” I asked.
“The bills,” Amy said simply. “Statements started coming in. Payment notices. And he realized something didn’t add up.”
“No inventory?” I guessed.
“No suppliers. No packaging samples. No website in progress. Nothing that looks like an actual business forming. Just debt.”
My stomach tightened.
“And then he noticed something else,” she continued. “The name on part of the loan paperwork isn’t exactly the same as the one she uses socially.”
That caught my attention fully.
