Any oxygen I could have breathed in got sucked out of the room, and I choked. “What?”

Karma crossed her arms to match my posture. “I figured your mom would’ve told you. But then, it sounds like there’s a lot your mom isn’t telling you these days. Like who she’s having a fling with.”

I fought to draw in a breath. “You’re full of shit, Karma. And spreading rumors about your own family? That’s low.”

“They aren’t rumors if they’re true,” Jolene said with a smirk. “Like you and Lincoln. So, how was he? Because I think I’d like to take him for a spin.”

Lincoln had been calling me at least five times every day, but I hadn’t answered. I’d given his mother a freaking heart attack. I was pretty sure that was as over as we could get.

“He has better taste than you.”

All the girls burst out laughing, including my traitor cousin. “Like you?”

I was reduced to feeling an inch tall, but I kept my shoulders back and stood straight. “Give it a try. See how he reacts to skank.” My gaze flicked to Karma. “You’re a bitch.”

“Better a bitch than a whore,” she shot back, and my stomach turned.

“Latte for Jackie,” the barista called.

“You better run on back to my mom now,” Karma said.

I spun around on my sneaker, retrieved the latte, and got the hell out of the coffee shop.

Next up, get the hell out of this town.

Twenty-Five

Lincoln

Present day

Sitting in the emergency room of the Riscoff Memorial Hospital with my mother is the last place I should be thinking about Whitney, but I can’t help it.

Fuck. What a mess.

We’re waiting on tests to come back, but I can’t lie and say I think this episode is legitimate. My mother’s conveniently timed heart events are growing to legendary status. The last episode happened right after Commodore turned The Gables over to McKinley. Before that, it was when I mentioned the idea of marrying Monica.

Now she has one when she sees Whitney Gable, and we end up in the emergency room?

Suspicious? Absolutely.

“I guess you should’ve gotten rid of her as soon as she stepped foot in town.” Harrison’s comment is a poorly aimed swipe.

“This is her home too.”

“We own this town. There’s nothing here that the Gables can claim.”

“Shut up, Harrison,” McKinley chimes in. “This is about Mother, and no one else. Pretend you care.”

“I’m her favorite. Of course I care.”

He’s right. If it were up to our mother, Harrison would inherit everything. McKinley and I don’t cater to her like he does.

Dr. Green, our family’s doctor for the last two decades, enters the waiting area, and we all stand.

“Is she going to be okay?” my sister asks.

“Was it a heart attack?” That question comes from Harrison.

“She’s going to be fine. It was a panic attack. Your mother has been under a lot of stress lately, and it’s taking a toll on her.”