My Big Fat Fake Wedding(108)

Courtney pulls a chair over to sit across from Abi and me. The new ones haven’t been delivered yet. “I think you probably gave me the biggest endorsement ever,” Courtney says, her face a mask of confusion. “Why’d you do it? You could have just said fuck this place, popped a peace sign, and walked out without a single fuck given.”

“I could have,” I admit, “but I do care about this place, and about Dad and you, Court. And I meant every word I said. I would have even said more, but I didn’t want to spend ten minutes kissing your ass in front of the board. A big brother’s got to have his line in the sand. Simple truth . . . this company’s in damn good hands when Dad steps down.”

“Weren’t you just saying you were taking your ball and leaving? It doesn’t sound like it to me,” Abi says, inserting herself into the ‘Courtney’s the best’ lovefest.

Court looks at me, fury in her eyes. “Is that what you think you’re doing? For the love of fuck, Ross. How stupid are you?”

Okay, there are things in life that will make you feel like less of a man—screaming like a little girl at a bug, cringing away from a punch, and . . . having your two little sisters call you out back to back.

“What the hell are you two mouthing about? It’s not like I’m leaving on good terms or even know exactly what I’m leaving to do. But I just can’t stay here. It’s not good for any of us, and it’s going to end up destroying the company, and more importantly, our family.” My voice is getting louder, not in anger but frustration that they don’t see what I see.

Courtney claps her hands, accenting my name. “Ross Andrews, you listen to me and you listen good.” Even Abi shuts her always-running mouth at Court’s don’t-fuck-with-me tone.

“You just said some really sweet things about me in that meeting, but you have no idea why Dad works with me the way he does, do you?” She pauses for a nanosecond then dives back in. “News flash. It’s not because I’m some yes-man who does what he says at every turn.”

I raise a brow sardonically. “Seriously?”

She laughs big and bold. “Dad and I fight like cats and dogs about virtually everything—analyzing angles, negotiating percentages, calculating and strategizing in every way we can. It’s what we do for fun because we are two peas in a pod. And then, once we reach a resolution behind closed doors, only then do we open the floor to discussion, knowing damn well what direction we’re heading. Just because you only see me agree with Dad doesn’t mean that I do. It means that I know when and where to argue and when and where to play nice. He taught me that.”

I look at Abi, who’s looking at Court with thoughtful eyes. “I can see that,” Abi says, nodding. “You’re good at managing everything but protecting the image that needs to be presented.”

“Thank you.” Court dips her chin graciously. “Abi, why don’t you work for the company?”

I’m spinning at the random direction change after Court drops a bombshell like her and Dad fighting all the time about work stuff. Okay, maybe it’s not fighting, exactly, but I guess I did think Court went along with Dad most of the time. I guess not. I had no idea, literally none.

Abi grins. “Uhm, because this” —she waves her hands around my office— “is not me at all. I don’t care about shareholders and making millions. I like losing myself in a beautiful arrangement, seeing someone’s face light up when they get flowers, and the small potatoes style of my shop. Janey and I work damn hard, but I feel like I’m in control of my own destiny there. Here, I never would be.”

That I knew. I remember Abi telling Dad that she was going to open a boutique flower shop after she graduated from business school. He’d been aghast, but she’d proven him wrong with hard work, dedication, and her own rebellious spirit.

Court smiles like that was exactly the answer she was going for, but I still don’t get it. Shit. Could my sisters be right, and I’m an idiot? Evidence is pointing to that being the case with the way they’re both looking at me like a bug in a jar, but I’m not sure why.

Abi rolls her eyes. “So, Dad wants what’s best for us? Agreed?” I nod slowly, realizing that though he might’ve gone about it in the wrong way entirely, his intentions were good. Court said the same thing before. “He puts Court at his side, knowing she can hold her own there.” I nod again, looking at Court, trying to picture her arguing with Dad.

“I might need proof of that,” I suggest.

“He lets me go wild and open a flower shop.” I smile, because Abi is a bit wild, but she’s smart about it.

“And you . . .” I hold my breath, afraid of what she’s going to say, of what failure she’s going to point out because she’s got several to choose from. “You, he puts in charge, but away from his shadow to let you shine because he knew you needed that space. You have always been the golden child, the one who worked his ass off to make Mom and Dad proud, but Dad wants you to grow up and be your own man. He was trying to help you stand on your own two feet, Ross.”

My brows furrow in denial.

Court jumps in. “What would’ve happened if Dad had told Abi or me to ‘settle down with a good boy’?”

I scoff. “Well, first off, Abi would’ve told him to fuck off, and you would’ve probably said you’re too young. And then I would’ve killed him.”