Becca pauses, her smile a little forced. "Good thing I got the trip insurance, just in case this happened."
That was a year ago, and she never did get to use that carry-on luggage, until now, leaving our home. The guilt at the thought makes my tone come out harsher than I mean.
“What the hell is this? I thought we were going to talk?”
“Sure. But our problem is bigger than one conversation. I’m not ready to be here. Inyourhouse,” she says matter-of-factly.
“It’sourhouse. You picked the paint colors. You keep the garden alive. This place has your fingerprints all over it,” I point out.
She raises an eyebrow. “Maybe physically. But financially? It’s yours. Isn’t that what you said to Rick? Because you own it, I have nowhere else to go?”
I wince. “I … I meant we’d be okay. You didn’t let me explain.”
“You didn’ttry, Sam. You planned the betrayal and hoped I wouldn’t notice.”
“I wasn’t betraying you.”
“You weren’tincludingme either. In decisions about our hard earned money. Sure, you may have technically put more in there than I did, but I thought it was ours. I would have put it in my own account if I thought you might steal it for yourfavorite girls."
“I said two of my favorite girls.” But even to myself that excuse sounds pathetic.
She crosses her arms, waiting for me to talk.
I reach for logic, for the thing that will make this make sense, something Becca will understand. “It was an investment. Once Holly pays it back, I’ll be a silent partner. Ten percent of profits going forward. That’s passive income. It helps us get back on track.”
“Did you just mansplain passive income tome? Me, thewoman who manages passive income foractual clients?” Her eyes flash.
I boil over. “Well, considering your family’s financial genius, forgive me for assuming?—”
She recoils like I struck her. “So my background is fair game now?”
I try to walk it back. “Becca, I didn’t mean?—”
“No. You did. It’sonlymoney, right? It’s not like I built our budget spreadsheet from scratch. Or read every damn book on that shelf. Or figured out how to get us from twenty-five bucks in savings to seventy-five thousand in four years.”
“I thought those were all romance novels. With perfect heroines and unrealistic heroes,” I hedge, reaching for humor.
“Oh, believe me,” she spits, “I know those men are fictional.”
I throw my hands up. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.”
“No, Sam. I’m seeing itclearlyfor the first time. You think I’m being dramatic. You think I’m controlling. You think I don’tknowanything because I don’t swing a hammer for a living.”
“That’s not true.”
“But Holly, with no plan, no projections, no clue—shegets your belief. She gets our money.”
My expression hardens. “Don’t talk about my sister like that.”
“I didn’t. I talked about her business.”
“Mandy’s more the business mind behind this,” I say, realizing how weak it sounds.
Becca raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms. “Mandy? The same Mandy who has never owned a business ormanaged a team? The one whose longest job was being a beer cart girl at the country club before one year answering phones at a salon?" She lets that sink in before driving the knife in deeper. “This is who you handed our dreams over to?”
I grit my teeth. “Look, Rick thinks it’s a good idea. He is an incredible self-made man in this area and everything he touches turns to gold. He told me himself he thinks Holly and Mandy have potential. That the location’s prime, the setup makes sense, and their vision is strong.”
Becca tilts her head. “An idea? Sure. But with no plan, it’sonlya dream, Sam. Until you gave it wings with dollar signs. And how exactly is Rick involved? How much money didheput down? What did Holly invest? What about Mandy?” She doesn’t even pause for me to answer. “The answer’s none. They’ve invested zero dollars. You’re fronting the entire thing, with our savings, and walking away with agenerousten percent?” She scoffs, “God, it’s like you’re proud to be taken advantage of.”
