Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires, #3)(35)
My hands shake as I wipe them across my apron, prolonging the inevitable by cleaning the flour off my fingers.
“Mommy! Hurry up!” She waves the envelope in front of my face.
“All right. Let me have it.”
Cami slaps it into my waiting hand. I open the envelope with a butterknife before pulling out the thick piece of paper.
“What does it say?” She shifts her weight from foot to foot, making her sneakers light up.
“I’m going.” I unfold the paper and read the first line.
Congratulations, Camila Theresa Castillo…
“You got in.” The words come out in a hoarse whisper.
“What?! Ah!” She takes off running and screaming at the top of her lungs. “I get to go to school with all my friends!” She disappears into the hallway, her voice echoing off the twelve-foot ceilings.
I continue reading the letter, my heart tripping over the tuition price at the bottom.
“Thirty-five thousand dollars? For first grade?”
Somehow it continues to get worse. Prices only go up from there, with twelfth grade costing almost fifty grand. The letter also emphasizes how Wisteria Prep encourages the arts and requires students to participate in at least one afterschool activity. They can range from a thousand dollars a month to five, depending on what activity the child chooses.
The room spins around me. When Cami applied, it was only a pipe dream meant to make her happy temporarily, but now that it is a reality, I feel sick to my stomach. Even after accounting for the financial aid Cami was offered, there is still no way I could afford the school on my kind of salary.
I reach out for the countertop, afraid my knees might buckle.
“Hey, what’s all the yelling— Whoa. Are you okay?”
Of all the people to be present during my little breakdown…
I’ve been lucky enough to avoid him since our fight about the house, but I knew it would only last so long.
Just keep it short and sweet.
I take a deep breath and look up at Cal. His usual casual outfit of a button-down and pants is replaced by athletic pants and a workout T-shirt that is drenched around the collar with sweat.
“What are you wearing?” I try my hardest to keep my eyes focused on his face, but they drift toward the abs pressing against the tight fabric of his T-shirt.
“I was working in the attic when I heard screaming.”
“Oh.” I speak to his stomach muscles.
His low chuckle snaps me out of my embarrassing display of desperation.
He reaches for a glass in the cabinet and fills it up with water. My skin warms, my heart beating harder at the way his tongue darts out to lick a stray droplet from his lips.
What I would offer to do the same…
“What’s going on?” His Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow of water.
Fuck.
Is it hot in here or am I just having a meltdown? I fan my face with Cami’s letter, trying to cool my hot cheeks.
Cal catches me staring and winks.
Ugh. Even a simple wink has my body vibrating with excitement.
“What’s that?” He points at the paper in my hand.
“Cami’s acceptance letter.”
“For what?”
“A private school that just opened recently off Main. It’s pretty tough to get into, so she’s a bit excited about getting to stay with her best friends. I spent half the year preparing her for a rejection letter, but now that she got in…”
“You’re worried,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone. For someone who has spent the last six years away, he sure hasn’t lost the ability to read me well.
My head drops. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because not all of us are billionaires.” I do my best to support Cami. Whatever my girl wants, my girl gets. Dance lessons, gymnastics classes, afterschool art programs. Keeping her happy and busy comes with personal sacrifices, but I’m happy to provide for her in a way my sister never could. Yet, I still feel like I could do more. That I could work harder. Pick up a side hustle. Find a way to make more money.
There is one option.
A piercing hot sensation shoots through my chest.
Cal’s forehead creases with confusion. “Didn’t my grandfather leave you some money after he passed?”
My body temperature spikes, and I try to take a deep breath to regulate myself. I’m not even sure who I’m most angry at—Cal for bring up the inheritance or my sister for wasting a majority of it.
Cal’s gaze hardens. “He did leave you some money, right?”
My jaw hurts from how hard I clamp down on my molars.
“What happened—”
I speak up before he can finish his sentence. “It’s gone.”
"How much did he give you?”
My nails bite into the flesh of my palms. “Why does it matter?”
His face softens. “Because you’re not the kind of person to blow through money like that unless something happened.”
“You know what? Forget I said anything.” I swipe the rest of my mail off the counter and leave the kitchen before he has a chance to ask me where the money went.
Cal warned me years ago about my sister, but I didn’t listen. If he found out about all the mistakes I made, he would be furious.