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The Reunion(123)

Author:Meghan Quinn

“Fuck,” Ford says again. He turns around, anger rolling off his shoulders. “This wouldn’t be an issue if you two were able to keep your shit together.”

“Excuse me?” I say. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who fucked up big time, Ford.”

“More than not ordering food?” Cooper asks.

“I thought you were getting sandwiches!” I yell.

“Check the email, sis—you claimed food; this is on you. At least I delivered with centerpieces.”

“And guess who was in charge of rentals?” Ford says, holding up his phone to Cooper. “You were.”

Cooper’s eyes focus on the screen, and his eyebrows shoot up as he realizes he messed up too.

“Don’t forget the fun,” I add. “Pretty sure you said there’d be fun, and if ‘fun’ meant dry and dull like your personality, then you nailed it.”

“We all fucked up,” Ford says. “At least I have a solid reason for dropping the ball.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Oh yeah, and what would that solid reason be for forgetting about your parents’ anniversary party?”

“I broke things off with Larkin, so I’m a little messed up at the moment.”

“This is why you don’t fuck your assistant,” I say, and Ford whips toward me, pausing inches from my face.

“Your incessant chatter and pestering made the fuel that lit the flame last night. But you don’t realize that, do you? You don’t see how your actions affect others.”

“She never has,” Cooper adds.

Both my brothers stare me down, and I take a step back, my mind whirling. “I take responsibility for my actions.”

“Is that so?” Cooper asks, looking so sure of himself that I’m afraid of what might come out of his mouth. “Just like you’re taking responsibility for the food, the food that you know you were supposed to order?”

“That was a miscommunication.”

“Or how about blaming Mom and Dad for moving, when really you just don’t have a place to live?”

How on earth . . .

“Remember I cosigned on your lease with you?” Cooper says. “Yeah, Palmer, your landlord called and said he couldn’t get in touch with you, since you cut him short one hundred dollars of rent before giving up your lease.”

My heart hammers in my chest, the thump so loud I can barely hear him.

“Or what about the fire.” My lip trembles. My hands shake. “We all know you started it, Palmer; we’ve just been waiting for you to actually take responsibility for it. But it’s been what, almost ten years? And you can’t.”

My stomach hits the floor as tears well up in my eyes.

How do they know?

I thought . . . I thought they assumed it was an accident. The cameras were destroyed in the fire, and they weren’t even supposed to be running that night. There was no evidence it was me.

“Didn’t think we knew, did you? Well, we do. Even Mom and Dad know. And they’ve never once addressed it with you, because they were so shocked they thought you would come forward. You never did. Instead, we’ve just picked up your pieces. Ever wonder why Ford never talks to you about the business? Because you nearly destroyed it.”

I glance over at Ford. He’s standing there with his hands in his pockets, head bent forward, but I can see the truth in his eyes. Cooper is right.

A tear falls down my cheek, and I quickly wipe it away. They’ve known all along. It’s the reason they never talk to me about the store. They don’t think I deserve to know. And even though I’ve spent so many years feeling unworthy, forcing myself to stay away—despite desperately wanting to play a part in the business—I didn’t think they knew the truth, or saw what a screwup I actually am.

All those conversations about how proud they were of me for going off and making something of myself—was it all fake? Did they mean it? Or were they just glad I wasn’t around to destroy the business all over again?

So many emotions—shock, guilt, panic—tumble through my brain, and it’s too much. So instead of accepting what they’re saying to me and being the bigger person, I shoot low. I turn on Cooper. “Yeah, well, does Ford know that you’ve been working with Larkin behind his back with rebranding?”

“What?” Ford asks, looking shocked.

Cooper’s eyes bore into me. “You ass.”

“You’re working behind my back? When I clearly said no?” Ford asks.