Dad:Moonbeam and I are on our way to Harrogate. We hope to see you!
Everything was not fine.
33
Parker
Sadie seemed frazzled in the Rural Trust meeting. Maybe I shouldn’t have mentioned the condo. It’s not like I had taken any women there. There had been a couple of hookups, sure, but not as many as she seemed to think. Between my company, my brothers, and the concern that the women I was with were going to be gold diggers, I didn’t get out much. The few times I did, we’d ended up at her place. Then I had gone home. I never even spent the night.
Sadie’s blond hair flew in her face as she rushed into the room, carrying a huge platter.
“I made snacks!” she chirped, almost dropping it. I grabbed it, setting it on the long conference table. My half brother Greg, an arrogant dick on a good day, turned up his nose.
“What happened to healthy snacks?”
“We’re having a long meeting that is going to require creativity,” Sadie said. “You can’t eat seaweed crackers; your brain needs carbs and fat.”
“I’m from New York City. We don’t eat biscuits up here.”
“You’re not from New England,” Hunter said, glaring at Greg. My two brothers never missed an opportunity to tear each other apart. “You’re from Wyoming, and you grew up on tater-tot casserole and potato hash just like the rest of us.”
“You stayed up all night baking instead of working on the Rural Trust?” Kaitlyn asked.
Sadie smiled at her. I wasn’t sure if it was just the angle, but it didn’t seem all that friendly, though she was showing all her teeth.
“Maybe you should eat a biscuit. Low blood sugar makes for irritability.”
“The famous biscuits,” Remy said, taking two. He took a huge bite. “Best addition to the Rural Trust we could have.”
“Go on, Greg,” I said, leveling my gaze at my older half brother.
He selected a biscuit and took a neat bite. “It is good,” he admitted.
“Wow, you are a magic baker if you can make Greg sound like a normal person for a minute,” Archer remarked.
Greg took another bite, chewed, and swallowed. “Hopefully you spent as much time on the Rural Trust events as you did on these biscuits.”
I could have slugged him, but Sadie just laughed.
“I spent more time!” she said. “Biscuits are easy.”
“No they aren’t,” I muttered.
“It’s just science,” she teased me. “Hot air on cold butter makes it pop! Now on to the Rural Trust. I hear there’s a little issue with Meghan Loring. I wouldn’t worry too much about her. She and I bonded in prison over our men issues.”
Hunter looked up at the ceiling.
“She’s not dumb though,” Sadie continued. “We can’t just show up with a can of Cheez Whiz and some Ritz crackers and act like we’re running a nonprofit that’s going to rival the Holbrook Foundation.”
Greg slammed his hand down on the table.
“S-Sorry,” Sadie stuttered. “I didn’t mean—”
“See, this is the type of thinking that we need,” Greg said. “Not growing mushrooms in caves and whatever crazy ideas you had, Remy. Sadie’s thinking big picture. The Rural Trust should make the Holbrook Foundation eat shit.”
“And in the spirit of creating a well-regarded foundation, the Rural Trust is going to do innovative, local projects. Long term, to create more interest and cement our foundation’s station as being at the forefront of this type of work, we should start hosting conferences and workshops.”
“Excellent,” Greg said, taking another biscuit. “My investment company will provide an infusion of cash. I despise the Holbrooks. I will spare no expense to make sure we put their foundation to shame.”
