He Loves You Not (Serendipity Book 2)

by Tara Brown

  Mom choked on her bite of lamb, almost exactly the same way as Mrs. Weitzman.

  “I’m sure Amy will show us all how it’s done.” Cynthia recovered for her moronic husband, but he had no regrets. He never held his tongue. Not since he’d left home and became Grandpa’s favorite.

  Cynthia smiled at Amy, who still appeared vacant. She was probably texting under the table and missed the insult. I didn’t want to pretend to date her for the rest of the summer; one whole day was enough. I just didn’t know how to broach the subject or ruin Dad’s scheme, not yet.

  “She really will,” Amy’s mom chimed in. “Amy has been taking some fashion classes on top of her regular curriculum, and she’s quite good. She’s working with Vera Wang this summer.”

  “Is Vera a friend of yours?” I asked her mother, sticking with my brother’s line of torture. I liked watching all our parents squirm while we politely misbehaved.

  “She is.” Mrs. Weitzman’s cheeks reddened. “A dear friend to anyone in the fashion community.”

  “Excellent.” Mom lifted her glass before I could say another word. “To our children.”

  “Hear, hear,” Dad said, lifting his glass and clinking a bit too hard. He was boorish. There wasn’t another word for it. Rich, loud, rude, privileged, undereducated, and entitled. My dad’s family connections gave him a pass into the world where he could be a figurehead but never wield any actual power, married to the daughter of a billionaire real estate developer and investments mastermind.

  Dad had old family money, which he had tied up in my grandfather’s investments. But he didn’t have enough income to balance his spending. He played too hard. He traveled and entertained and showed off his wealth. He didn’t work at making more money. He didn’t buy things that would turn around and earn. He wasted. He made bad investments.

  Something my grandfather hated almost as much as he hated being saddled with my dad.

  My grandfathers coerced my parents into dating while their families were entertaining a business arrangement, not unlike my current situation. While my mom’s father may have valued cash more than his own daughter, he still disliked my father. He never intended for them to marry. He dangled my mother at my father to convince Dad’s family to invest. Once they did, it was too late. My mom was pregnant, and my dad became Grandpa Jack’s new son-in-law. Grandpa made lemonade out of his lemons, seeing that my dad’s old blue blood was worth something—connections. Grandpa Jack knew what to do with those.

  At the time, the old money was going stale with the way the markets were changing, but my mother’s father was the exception, a true businessman through and through. He changed with the times, making his fortunes based on new growth opportunities. He hadn’t been nearly as rich as my father’s family when he started out, but now he was ten times wealthier. Grandpa was ruthless in the pursuit of money. Dad thought of himself the same way.

  But he wasn’t.

  Which was also why I got saddled with the petite redhead who sat across from me, staring vacuously.

  There wasn’t anything really wrong with Amy.

  Her lips were shiny.

  Her hair was suspended in place.

  Her eyes had that cat-eye thing going on where her eyeliner winged out, like every other girl in the world. To say she followed trends was an understatement.

  But she was all packaging.

  Conversations with her would be one-sided, at best.

  No, Dad wasn’t thinking clearly on this one. Not that he ever did. My brother and I were my Grandpa’s only hopes. I could get by in finances if I had to do it for a living; mostly it was common sense, so that wasn’t hard, and Stephen had the shrewd business savvy. Together we would be the next generation of success in the family, which definitely skipped a line.

  After dinner, I excused myself to the kitchen and sat at the counter in silence.

  “You look like you’re in a mood,” Lucia said gruffly as she reached into the freezer and grabbed the gelato she made just for me. She slid the pint across the counter with a silver spoon.

  “Dad’s on schedule to having me work for Grandpa for the rest of my life with Amy as my little wife by the end of this summer.” I tried not to sound like a petulant child; that was not Lucia’s favorite.

  “How was the roast?” She didn’t even miss a beat in ignoring my whining.

  “Delicious. Can you start adding drugs to my plate? Not Monday through Thursday, but definitely Friday through Sunday. I’m not making it through that marlin story again without something narcotic.”

  “Can I get in on that too?” Stephen sat next to me, took my spoon, and dished up a large bite and ate it all.

  “The crack or the gelato?” Lucia asked.

  “Boph.” He struggled to say both as he winced through the brain freeze of too much gelato in his mouth.

  “You want your own pint?” She always spoke deadpan to us, something we appreciated. The absence of emotion meant no false expression.

  “Yeah, please.” He nodded and swallowed the last of his bite. “Can I get a normal spoon, though?”

  “No.” She slid a silver spoon at him too. Her idea of a joke.

  “Thanks,” he grumbled, and took a bite. “So, Amy.” He nudged me. “How was your first impression?”

  “Yup. It’s not gonna work.” I dragged my spoon, getting a smaller bite now that the mention of Amy was affecting my appetite. “I checked out her Instagram when I was in the bathroom. Cynthia told me to look. I lost some intelligence.”

  “Yeah, it’s bad. And just think, if she weren’t here, you’d already have tracked down your soul mate from the boat.”

  “Soul mate?” Lucia’s eyes widened.

  “She wasn’t my soul mate, dick.” I nudged my brother back. “She was just kinda funny and real and not”—I pointed my silver spoon behind me toward the dining room we couldn’t see—“like that.”

  “And sexy?”

  “Maybe.” I didn’t want to answer that in front of Lucia. I already regretted getting drunk and telling him the fantasy bathroom story.

  “I thought we agreed you were freeing yourself of this.”

  “We did, but I haven’t had the chance to talk to Grandpa about it and come up with a backup plan.” I nodded at him. “And how the hell am I supposed to get out of this while our dads are dry humping each other? Mom said they hang out three nights a week at least. All the groundwork had been laid before I even entered the picture. This was sabotage.”

  “It’s a conundrum. Amy’s dad is like a virgin who’s scared to commit to just doing it. And Dad’s so hard and ready to go, he’s overly eager. By the end of the night, Dad will be chasing him around the billiards table with Mr. Weitzman trying to protect his virtue.” Stephen held a fist in the air and slapped his forearm, earning a scowl from Lucia and me. He continued, “Why don’t you tell Dad that if he wants to make the deal stick, he needs to find another way? You’re out. It’s sad to watch this shit.”

  “Sure, Steph.” I still laughed at the nickname he hated. “I’ll do that at the same time you tell Grandpa you agreed to be the stay-at-home daddy when you and Cynthia have kids. We can be disowned together.”

  “I agreed to spend the first three months at home with her, dick. It’s not the same thing.”

  “Okay, Steph.” I nudged him.

  “You want some, little bro?” Stephen put his spoon down at the same moment Lucia lifted her large wooden spoon from the utensil holder.

  “You boys wanna keep fighting in my kitchen?”

  “No, ma’am,” we said simultaneously, and looked back down at our dessert.

  “That’s what I thought you said.” She kept the spoon out, pacing the front of the counter, opposite where we sat. “Now, Stephen, staying home those first three months with your wife and baby is honorable. Don’t take shit off this spineless little sap over that.” She pointed the spoon at me, making me cringe as memories of it catching my ass as a kid flashed through my mind. “You tell your
grandpa that real men want to bond with their babies so that they grow up influenced by their father as equally as their mother. No bratty kids to ruin the bloodline and destroy the family business. I didn’t raise whiners.”

  “No, ma’am,” he agreed. It brought me a modicum of joy to witness our cook still beat him down, only now it was emotionally instead of physically. Though I didn’t doubt her ability to still swing that spoon like a bat.

  “And you.” She pointed right at me again, making my entire body tense. “You need to stop searching for another girl until you get rid of this one. She might not be for you, but your mom says she likes you for whatever reason, and I didn’t raise a disloyal philanderer. Now you are gonna be a man and tell your daddy you’re not doing this. But I agree, first you tell your grandpa this girl is a simpleton. She has seven million selfies but no sense of herself. He’ll understand. She’s bad for business. You need a girlfriend who is on par with the expectations your grandpa has for you, so she can be your equal, or in his case”—she pointed the spoon at Stephen—“your superior, and help you grow. Stop being little punks. Learn to articulate so you can get what you want and make your grandpa think that’s what he wants too. You know where the power in this family really is. He’ll tell your dad this is a bad plan. Playing with people’s hearts is sick anyway.” She shook her head. “Damn.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” we both agreed.

  “Now eat your dessert and get back out there. Hiding in my kitchen all night like little babies.” She turned her back to us and used the big spoon to stir whatever was in the giant pot on the stove.

  Stephen smiled as he ate his gelato, kicking me under the counter.

  I kicked him back.

  “I mean it—you wanna fight in here? I’m gonna beat some asses,” Lucia growled.

  In typical childish brotherly love, I ate my last bite, jumped up, shoved Stephen, and ran from the kitchen, laughing as he shouted my name and Lucia turned on him.

  I almost missed having him at home, living with us. Almost.

  Chapter Seven

  JUST BUGGING YA

  Lacey

  “Lacey, can we have a quick chat?” Mom asked as I grabbed my earbuds and shoved them in my purse.

  “Not now.” Dad frowned at her from the table where he was texting or doing something with his phone.

  “Has to be. I’m working two doubles, and that application we talked about as a solution”—Mom gave him a forced look, trying to speak words with her glare—“has to be filled out. There’s a deadline.”

  “Mom, whatever it is, text me. I’m going to be late if I don’t leave in the next fifteen minutes.” I tried not to sound bratty, but being late on my first day wasn’t how I rolled.

  “I know, but there’s something we need to talk about.” She gave me the mom face, the one that suggested I couldn’t weasel my way out of this. We were talking, now. “We want you to understand a few things.” Her eyes darted toward the stairs, like she was talking about Martin, but I knew that wasn’t the case.

  We were about to talk tuition, and I really didn’t want to.

  “What about?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t heard her last night.

  “Honey, this isn’t the right time. She has to go to work,” Dad said, offering a look.

  “Lacey—” Mom started, ignoring Dad. “It’s about Martin. It’s important. And you might need some time to come up with a solution.”

  “There’s more?” My spine tingled as I contemplated that this may not be about tuition at all.

  “No, well, yes. Martin’s diagnosis is causing a bit of an unexpected issue,” Dad said over his cup of coffee, pleading at Mom with his stare, but she didn’t speak. “Since the new government made the health care changes, we’re not covered like we used to be. Your mom’s policy has completely changed.” He winced, and Mom continued for him.

  “We have to use our savings for his treatments.”

  And there it was.

  “You need me to chip in?” I played along, knowing where this was going.

  “We’re so sorry, honey. We know the base amount of his first surgery, and treatments will be almost all our savings for you to go to school next year.” Dad’s voice cracked a bit, not like he would cry, but he was visibly upset. “We wanted to be able to help you kids through your schooling so you didn’t have loans like us. But we won’t have the money to cover everything, and Martin’s health comes first. Grandma has already paid for all those years of private school for you two. She can’t do any more.”

  “We’re so sorry.” Mom hugged me.

  “Guys.” I forced myself to be cool. “Martin has thyroid cancer. I’ll figure out school. I don’t care. I’ll skip a year if I have to. I’ll get a student loan. Whatever. You’re right, though; there are deadlines for applications. I’ll look into it today. No biggie. It’s just money.” I pulled back, feeling my future crashing and burning, but forcing that firm smile on my face. “Let’s focus on him. When he’s better, we’ll worry about school.”

  “You’re such a good kid,” Mom said, then sighed into my neck. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, and I want to help Martin through this. Whatever we need to do, we’re a team. Let’s just concentrate on the most important thing here. We’ll talk more later, but for now, I have to run and get to my first big day back at the office.” I pulled away and grabbed my bag, turning to leave. “Love you!” I waved and closed the door.

  It was lucky I’d had the night to think about the whole financial situation. Telling me the day of my first shift was shitty, but I got why. They needed me to know sooner so I could solve it faster. They trusted me to figure this out on my own.

  As I clicked along the sidewalk, I prayed the brave face I was sporting would last throughout the day. I was going to need it.

  I daydreamed on the subway, running numbers. My tuition and books cost around fifty thousand a year. My scholarship covered ten thousand. Martin’s surgery and treatments must be close to that, or more. I didn’t know the amount but feared Mom and Dad might have to dip into our school savings. And if that happened, I had only about seven thousand dollars left from last year’s spending money, which meant I needed to come up with a minimum of thirty-five thousand dollars if I was going to finish the year off debt-free.

  That was a big number.

  A daunting number.

  My summer job might net me about fifteen thousand, so I needed to find a second job that I could do around this one.

  Another challenge.

  I pushed it to the back of my mind and tried to stay focused. My first day was going to be challenging enough without adding this stress.

  In the elevator, I tried to smile and pretend I was fine.

  “Lacey!” Hennie, my friend and fellow intern, squealed and hit the main floor running. “I missed you.”

  “Hennie!” I hugged her back tightly. “I missed you too.”

  I clung to her a little longer than I should have. But she smelled like cookies and hugged so warmly, it was nice to be held by someone like her. Especially after yesterday and this morning.

  “How was the year at Harvard?” I asked.

  “Good. Hectic. You?” she questioned as she struggled free from me.

  “Not bad.” I tried to maintain the smile on my face, but the truth was still ripping my heart out.

  “Awesome, I’m glad it’s over. It was hard, but I got through. You excited to be back?” She beamed.

  “Yeah.” I nodded, but I couldn’t last another second. I needed to talk to someone or I was going to burst. “That’s a lie. I just found out my little brother got diagnosed with thyroid cancer. I don’t even know what to say about it. I’m honestly still in shock.” Tears welled in my eyes.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. When did you find out?” Her face paled.

  “Yesterday.” I sniffled.

  “Lacey. Jeez. That’s rough. Isn’t he, like, seventeen?”

  “Yeah. Almost eighteen. He’s a
kid. But it’s hereditary.”

  “Well, not to be one of those people who can’t let someone wallow, but his being a kid is actually on his side. He’s young and strong. And thyroid is one of those cancers people recover from. Early detection and all. One of my uncles had it. He lived, and he was a smoker.”

  “Yeah.” I didn’t bother telling her it was how my grandpa died. “Anyway, I don’t really want to talk more about it. It’s stressing me out hard. But if I seem off, you should know why.” I changed the subject. “Are you excited to be back?” I couldn’t do the brother-cancer thing all day or I would end up in the bathroom crying nonstop.

  “I am. Are you?” she asked again, blushing. “I mean—”

  “No, it’s fine. I am. I need all the money I can get. I might have to see if there are weekend jobs or find a waitressing shift for after work.”

  “Oh my God, why?”

  “Martin’s cancer. My parents are going to have to use my tuition money, and I don’t have enough in savings to front it on my own.” Tears started to build again.

  “Oh, no.” She winced. As a person who needed financial aid, she understood how much college cost and how much of a burden the financing was for us. “What about a student loan? The deadline hasn’t passed yet. I’m pretty sure the deadline is end of June; you still have a few weeks.”

  “I’m considering that, but I don’t know if I’ll get the full amount for NYU. I mean, it was fifty-something thousand last year for everything. And then I have to graduate with a massive loan, making just enough money to live on my own, not including a loan repayment.”

  “Right.” She folded her arms over her chest, gripping her cardigan. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure this out. And if you need help, you know I’m in. I’ll do anything you need. With our combined business savvy, we can come up with an out-of-the-box solution to your troubles. It’ll be just like finding a way to sell Mr. La Croix’s latest crazy venture to the masses.”

  “Thanks.” I sighed, a bit defeated and still ashamed that I was even considering my problems when my brother’s health was at risk. “Anyway, we better get to work. I imagine our responsibilities will be a lot heavier this summer.”