“It was necessary. Once you’ve got a dress, you’re sticking around for the wedding, and I need you. Like Mom said, you’re all that’s standing between me and the steamroller named Mrs. Havalin.”

“You win, but only on the condition that I get to pick out something that looks fabulous on me and will look terrible on Karma.”

“Yes!” Cricket fist pumps with both hands in the air. “Jesus, take the wheel!”

“Cricket!” I scream as the van hits the rumble strip and veers toward oncoming traffic. Horns blare, but she yanks the wheel back just in time. “Next time, I’m driving.”

“Chill out. Eat the candy in the glovebox. You need it way more than I do.”

Forty-One

Lincoln

“You promised me you’d play nice with Whitney, man. And now my future mother-in-law is unemployed. What the fuck is going on?” My friend’s tone is pissed when I answer his call.

“I didn’t know her aunt was going to quit her job until after it was done. I’m going to figure it out.”

Hunter releases a long breath. “I’m only getting married once, and I want Cricket to be happy when she walks down the aisle. If her cousin isn’t standing up for her, she won’t be happy.”

“I get it. I’m working on it.”

“You better work faster, because if Cricket’s last-ditch effort to keep Whitney in town fails, I don’t want to have to kick your ass.”

I home in on the part of his statement that pertains to Whitney. “What kind of last-ditch effort?”

“She’s taking her out to buy her a bridesmaid dress tonight. Probably going to get her hammered afterward so she can’t change her mind. I’m going to track them down in a couple hours to make sure they’re not getting into too much trouble.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve done enough. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Hunter doesn’t wait for me to respond before he hangs up, and I feel like a shitty friend. I fucked up with Whitney, screwed up her aunt’s job, and my best friend is pissed because I put his future bride’s happiness in jeopardy.

And I’m going to fix all of it.

Hunter has forgotten one important thing—I’m the CEO of a billion-dollar company, and that’s what I do. Fix problems.

First, I’ll deal with the easiest one. Jackie’s job.

I point my SUV in the direction of the estate. It’s time to talk to my mother. She’s due for a serving of humble pie.

“I will not apologize. That girl is trash. She’s been trash since the day she was born, and she’ll die trash.”

McKinley glares at me. “Dr. Green said we’re supposed to keep her out of stressful situations, and this is what you do first?”

My mother’s chin points skyward. “He doesn’t care if I die. I’m sure he’d be happy if I did.”

The bullshit that passes for truth in this house is one of the biggest reasons I moved out.