14. Inside

Jillian

I wake up later than I'd hoped and blame it on the comfort of being inside the house.

I take a quick shower and hurry out to the kitchen as Rome is heading out the door.

"Hey, where you going?"

"Car shopping," he answers.

"Something happen to your truck?"

"Nope," is all he says, and I know that means he's hiding something.

I quickly realize what it is. "No."

"Oh, you think I'm getting you a car?"

I set my fists on my hips. "I have a job. I'll get my car?—"

"Blown motor, transmission's shot. It would cost ten grand to make her safe."

My heart sinks, but I'm not going to get all sentimental about it when the boys are all here.

"You know what doesn't cost ten grand?"

He rolls his eyes. "What's that?"

"Nike sneakers and public transportation."

"CeCe and I are going to look for a new car for her. She wants a bigger SUV." He pulls a set of keys out of his pocket and tosses them to me. "I bought hers for you. Paid what the trade-in was going to be. We're scrapping yours."

"We can't." I hold my hand to my heart.

"It's either that or take it to Virginia so he can have that, too."

"What?"

"Yeah, got papers at eight this morning, demanding the return. So, he gets it and scraps it, or we scrap it at a place that doesn't input it into a database."

"What do you mean you got papers?"

"He wants money."

I feel eyes on me and know it's Nour. I glance at him, and he crosses his arms and leans back against the counter, brow arched.

"Spill it, Jillian."

"Spill what?" I ask.

"You're a horrible liar. Your face gets all pinched up, and your voice raises about three octaves. Did he call for money?"

I shrug, which is more than enough of a confirmation.

"Tell me you didn't give him the fucking cost of a phone call."

Nour clears his throat, and I glare at him.

He bows his head and walks past me into the other room, calling back, "Come on, guys; let's give them some privacy."

"How much?" Rome asks.

I hold up three fingers.

"Three grand?"

"No," I huff. "Three hundred."

"Jillian, that fucker doesn't deserve an answered call, let alone three hundred bucks."

I look down like a shamed dog.

"He tell you he was gonna write a tell-all?"

Taken aback by the fact I never considered our father would be working all angles, I ask, "A what?"

"A book. Don't say a word to him, but the bastard got Hudson for ten grand a year ago with that bullshit. You know who he doesn't call and ask for money?"

"You," I mumble.

"Damn right. You know why?"

"Because you do everything right?" I smart back.

He does me a solid by not gloating. "He hasn't called Hudson in six months because he called his bluff and told him that he wasn't sure he could stay sober long enough to tell a story, let alone write a book. Be done with it. His threats are empty."

I nod.

"Cool. See you?—"

"How much do I owe CeCe for the car?"

"Nothing, Jillian."

"I have a job now. I've made over fifteen hundred dollars in three days. Let me make payments."

"You made fifteen hundred dollars bartending for?—"

I nod. "Eighteen hours."

"That's more than I made teaching school in a week. Hell, maybe two."

"Not a bad gig."

"Make sure you take taxes out of?—"

"Fawna's taking them out of my paycheck."

"You made that in tips?"

"Yeah."

"That's great. Good for you."

"So, let me make payments for the vehicle."

"We'll talk about it later; I have to go grab CeCe."

"Rome," I call after him, "thank you."

From the next room, I hear, "Happy dance starting in five … four … three … two … one!" AJ slides into the kitchen and grabs my hands, jostling them around. "You've got a new car. You've got a new car. You've got a?—"

Laughing, I join in, "New car!"

Bennett walks out and crosses his arms. "You taking it on your date today?"

I scoff. "How do you know?"

He lifts a shoulder. "Walls are thin at CeCe's house. When the sex has been had, the talking begins. Sometimes, the conversations are too riveting and I can't fall asleep."

"Whose ass are we kicking?" AJ asks.

"Rome's allowing it, so no one's," Bennett answers.

"Allowing it?" I arch a brow. "I'm a?—"

"Grown-ass woman with a job," he and AJ say together.

"I'm older than you"—I point at Bennett then turn to AJ—"and only a year younger than you." I turn and look at Nour. "You wanna add your two cents?"

"Sure. He has the smallest dick on the team."

"True," the other two agree.

I cross my arms and ask, "Whose is the biggest?"

All three of them answer, "Me."

Knowing that would be their answer, I shake my head as I head to the door. "Have a good day, boys."

"Where are you going?" AJ asks.

"To do grown-ass woman shit."

***

I stand when I see CeCe and Fawna's friend, Francesca, walk into the hospital cafeteria. "Thanks for meeting me."

"Not a problem at all." She gives me a hug then sits down.

I push Lena's file across the table. "These are the originals."

When she doesn't reach for them, I feel all hope dwindle.

"No, no, no, that doesn't mean I don't want to help. I need you to hand me ten or twenty bucks."

"Okay?" I reach into my bag, pull out my wallet, and grab a twenty, setting it on the table.

She looks up from her tablet and smiles then pushes it across the table toward me. "As soon as you sign, you have retained me as a lawyer." She holds up the twenty. "And this acts as a retainer."

I sign with my finger then push it back to her.

She flips through a screen and pushes it back to me. "Gabrielle Steel just had a baby, but she's agreed to look at Lena's case. She doesn't know it's you who has brought this to me, but you sign this, and she's all yours. Immigration law is her specialty and her passion. Trust me when I tell you that she's the best. And she's going to take it on pro bono."

"Are you serious?"

"As a heart attack." She cringes. "Poor comparison given the reason we're here."

"You think it's possible?"

"If he's going to let it go to auction so he doesn't have to deal with it, I guarantee he'll agree to hold the mortgage long enough for you to show equity if it's all wrapped up in a pretty little package." She reaches into her bag and pulls a file out, setting it in front of me. "Which I happen to have right here."

"In one night?"

"Not my specialty, but it's a simple contract. A phone call to a realtor friend and getting comps only took a few keystrokes. Just make sure he understands it's pending an inspection."

"To make sure it's structurally sound?"

"Exactly. And if it is, and you're willing to do the work, you're going to have a ton of equity and will not have a problem getting a loan. Which, again, as a friend and lawyer, I think you're nuts not to ask your brothers, but I know it's a sticking point for you."

"It is."

"Stubborn and independent. I like it."

***

After leaving the hospital where I left the contract with Burt and told him to take his time considering it and that I was in no hurry, I went straight to Etta's to help Lena with whatever she needed. I didn't tell her I was considering buying the place, because getting her hopes up and not being able to deliver was not an option. I would have told her that Gabrielle Steel was looking into her case, but running late to start the day messed that up. I want to be able to take time with her to do that, and because I agreed to meet Brady Masters for lunch, I decided to wait.

Brady Masters is a ten—black hair, blue eyes, perfect smile, and a hot body. But the entire time I sat across from him, all I could think about was his small dick. It's awful, I know it is, but it's the truth.

Halfway through my chicken club sandwich, Nour, AJ, and Bennett walk into the bar. Passing by, they all say a cordial hello and proceed to sit at a table behind ours, where I have a clear view of all of them, but Nour specifically.

Brady is completely unbothered, which I give him props for, but when the table is clear, he begins telling me how he can't wait to get married and have a bunch of kids so he has something to look up in the stands to. "You know, my people, my reason."

Someone coughs out the name, "Turner," and I manage to shoot daggers at them without getting seen by Brady. They all titter like teenage boys. Well, Nour doesn't. He looks to be standing on the line between angry and annoyed, like a small breeze could send him in either direction.

"Imagine how I felt when this gorgeous brunette turned my head a few weeks ago, only to find out she's a teammate's sister."

"Imagine." I smile politely, wanting to crawl under the table and out the door.

"But then I saw you on the side of the road, and I reminded myself I was the Master"—he winks—"of my own destiny, and I had to shoot my shot." He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. "I am so glad I did."

Thankfully, I get a text.

"Oh, shoot, excuse me for a minute." I pull my phone from my pocket and look at the screen. It's a group text, and the name of the group is "We Got Your Back."

Unknown:

Tereira *running man emoji*

Unknown:

Bennett *baby, eggplant emoji*

Unknown:

Uyar I didn't ask to be added to this, you assholes, but yeah.

Unknown:

*man pointing up Gif*

"Is everything okay?"

I shake my head. "I hate to do this, but a friend needs me."

I send a text to Fawna and play it up that I'm gravely concerned.

Me:

I'm escaping this shitshow of a lunch. Can you please tell him the check's been covered after I leave. I don't want him to think it was a date.

Fawna:

Girl, he's *fire emoji*

Me:

Feel free to *tag emoji* in.

I shove the phone in my pocket and stand. "I'm so sorry."

"Are you sure you should drive?"

"I didn't drink anything that?—"

"You're upset. You shouldn't?—"

"I'm honestly good."

"Can I walk you out?"

"No, no, finish your drink."

I exit as if I'm in a hurry with no further explanation.

***

In this car, it's impossible to ignore the notifications sounding off with my phone automatically connecting. I'm sure it will be a convenience at some point, but right now, it's annoying as fuck.

I hit the screen to stop it, and am startled when …

"Unknown says: you ran out of there like your ass was on fire. Woman running emoji

"Unknown says: laughing face emoji, skull emoji, rolling on the floor emoji, laughing crying emoji

"Unknown says: queen move emoji

"How would you like to respond?"

"Can you block them?"

"Sending: can you block them?"

"No, it was a fucking question, you idiot."

"Sending: no, it was a fucking question, you idiot."

"Oh my God, make it stop!"

"Sending: oh my God, make it stop!"

Does it stop? No, dozens more come in.

"Fuck off, you toddler emojis, and lose my number."

"Sending: fuck off, you toddler emojis, and lose my number."

"Of course you are," I grumble.

***

When the bells to the shop's door jingle, I look up and see Rome and Elle walking in. The fact he looks like he knew I would be here, I have some explaining to do and an ass to kick.

He doesn't walk to the counter; he begins a slow perusal, and he's not looking at the flowers, either.

"Before you go all Rome on me, let me call my lawyer and fire her."

"Wasn't a lawyer," he says, still looking around. "I stopped at Wags to bring the ladies lunch, and Cora mentioned her dad was hired to do the assessment. She was worried you were upset with her, and that's why you hadn't mentioned you were buying a flower shop." He shrugs. "Told her not to worry about it; neither had I."

"I—"

"Then I got a call from Burt."

"Of course you did." I reach down and grab a treat out of the box for Elle, who is sitting there, waiting patiently.

"He said you saved his life."

"I dialed 9-1-1."

"I think I'm more upset you didn't tell me about that. That's not even a grand slam moment; that's a world series win, Jillian. You saved a life." He walks over and finally looks at me. "The fact you didn't share that with us so we could at least celebrate with you by sending text confetti in the group chat is?—"

"There's more involved"—I glance around—"but Lena could be back any minute, and I don't want?—"

"You at least give me a jog-through?"

I counter with, "Sprint?"

He smiles. "I'm good with that."

"Should we FaceTime Mom and Hudson?"

"Mom doesn't know?"

I rub my temples, trying to remember everything that's gone on this past week. "She FaceTimed me right after they took Burt out on a stretcher, and I was waiting for Lena to show up, so no, not about me wanting to buy it." We move through the back where more refrigeration systems hold flowers and tables line the walls. "This is where arrangements are put together."

"Looks more put together than the storefront."