The Buy-In (Graham Brothers #1)(58)

“Are you sure we won’t wake Jo?” Val asks, glancing toward the door to Jo’s room.

“Nope. She sleeps like the dead.”

After she read the first Harry Potter book, Jo requested to move underneath the stairs. The tiny room was originally a canning room, extra pantry, or some kind of closet. It’s narrow and has only one small window, plus the slanted ceiling. She’s always liked little spaces, and there is barely enough room for her twin bed and all her books in there. You have to crawl in from the bottom of the mattress, which I do every night to snuggle her to sleep. I was supposed to install some bookshelves or have custom built-ins made, but it’s on the long list of projects I can’t afford. All the available space in the room has towers of books, organized by size and color.

“One post-proposal cocktail for you,” Winnie says, handing me a glass.

I stare down at it, hoping it’s not TOO much vodka. Even without Jo waking me up early, I’m not a big drinker. It’s hard to be when I have a sister who’s an addict. Alcohol was only her gateway to drugs, but still. Part of me worries I might start to like alcohol too much, and another part feels like I’m doing something wrong when I drink.

Tonight, though, I’m not going to argue.

“What is this?”

“I’m calling this a Dual Po-Pro,” Winnie says, and when Val and I just stare at her, she rolls her eyes. “Po-Pro for post-proposal and Dual because you got proposed to twice today. And don’t worry—it’s not very strong.”

Val takes a sip and gives an appreciative nod. “It should really be Duo or maybe Dos. Dual implies the proposals happened at the same time.”

“Fine. Dos Po-Pro,” Winnie says. “Happy now?”

“Yes.”

I take a sip, and it’s actually very refreshing. And a little … spicy? “What’s in it? It looked like you brought a whole salad with you.”

“Ew. Who would put salad in a drink? It’s vodka, club soda, a little simple syrup, lime juice, mint, and some grated fresh ginger,” Winnie says. “You like?”

“It’s perfect. Light and fresh.” Exactly the opposite of how I feel. If I were a drink flavor, I’d be heavy and hopeless with a garnish of pessimism.

Beast hops up into Val’s lap, almost knocking over her drink. I close my eyes as I swing my feet up on the old trunk I use as a coffee table. Any minute now, the inquisition will begin.

As if on cue, Val nudges my foot with hers on the trunk. “Wanna start talking or are you going to make us drag it out of you?”

I sigh, looking down into my drink. “I don’t know where to start.”

“How about starting with Pat’s proposal?” Val suggests. “Was it romantic?”

“It was over chips in a Mexican restaurant, so no. I wouldn’t call it romantic.”

“Two proposals in one day and I don’t see you wearing a ring. Heartbreaker,” Winnie says appreciatively, lifting her glass. “Good for you.”

Val tosses a balled-up napkin at Winnie. “Let the woman talk. And who says it’s automatically the right thing for her to say no?” She turns to me. “Wait—did you say no?”

“I didn’t actually answer. I sort of just ran.”

“But you wanted to say no, right?” Winnie presses.

It’s not that Winnie is anti-man. But after helping scrape me up off the ground like a chewed-up piece of gum when Pat broke my heart, I understand why she’s pretty firmly against the idea of us getting back together.

“Objection!” Val says. “Leading the witness.”

Winnie grumbles. “What did you want to say?”

Val bounces up and down, shaking me and Beast with her. “Tell us everything! Every juicy detail.”

So, I do. I share all the details, from how I ate everything not nailed down to Pat’s confession of love (which made Val gasp) to me thinking he was going to lick my arm to his casual proposal. Winnie’s eyes narrowed when I mentioned Chevy’s involvement, and she laughed until she cried when I described running out of the restaurant while the mariachi band serenaded Pat.

When I’m done, all the ice has melted into my drink. Even watered down, it’s still delicious. Val raises her hand.

“Yes, Val. You have a question?”

“What Wolf said this morning—is it true? You need to get married to keep Jo?”

I turn my glass around and around in my hands. “It’s not so much that I need to get married. Ashlee didn’t suggest I go nab a husband or something.”

“I think that would be some kind of ethical violation,” Winnie says.

“Probably. But being married does help Rachel’s position. And being single might hurt my case.”

Winnie makes a frustrated sound and leans forward. “That is so stupid and so backwards. You are the best parent for Jo. Single, married, whatever.”

“Thanks.” I agree, but it feels so nice to have support.

Val shifts, pulling her legs up to sit cross-legged on the couch, facing me. “So, marrying Pat would help your position?” When Winnie glares, Val throws up a hand. “What? It’s a valid question.”

Winnie shakes her head. “Saying yes to Pat would mean opening herself up to a world of hurt. Again. And getting married for a reason like that is a terrible idea.”