If she’s in another toxic work environment, I will lose my ever-loving shit.
“Hey, slow down,” my sister soothes. “She’s not working for another dick. She’s, um, not working at all, actually.”
“What do you mean?”
Millie glances at her husband then to me. “There was never another job, Ash.”
“What are you talking about?” Frustration boils up inside me. “She only worked here for the summer because she wanted to continue her career in the city. That was the plan.”
“Yeah, well, plans change. Obviously.”
“Unbelievable,” I mumble. “First she funds the construction and now?—”
“I’m sorry, what?” Millie practically screeches.
Wincing, I turn the volume down on my phone. “She didn’t tell you?”
She shakes her head.
“It was meant to be anonymous, but it was her.”
“Asher.” Tears stream down my sister’s face. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard, and I narrate romance novels.”
“Fuck, I’m an idiot,” I groan.
“You think?” she says.
“Has she—” I hesitate to ask, but I do it anyway. “Has she asked about me?”
The expression on Millie’s face is as likely to be sympathy as it is sorrow, and the anticipation is eating me alive.
“Of course she has.”
I exhale, my whole body relaxing. “What did she say?”
“I promised her I wouldn’t say anything.”
Though I’m disappointed, I don’t press. I understand and respect their girl code.
“But Ash? As your sister, let me just say… stop fucking around.”
“Gee, thanks a lot.” I scoff at her bluntness. Then again, why would I expect anything less from her?
We’re all silent for a few moments, my mind whirling. When an idea materializes, I straighten. “Will you two help me with something?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” Millie smirks. “But you need to do something about your”—she waves a hand across the screen—“face. Unlike my husband, a beard does not suit you.”
I run my fingers along my jaw. “I know, I know. I’m overdue for a shave. I was thinking of nixing the mustache too. You know, a clean slate.”
Ezra moves in closer, his face taking up the whole screen. “Donotshave the ’stache.”
“Why not?”
He narrows his eyes. “You want Claire to forgive you, don’t you?”
I laugh.
“Keep the womb broom, bro.”
