by Lexi Aurora
“I know,” she repeated, then paused. “Will you come visit? We haven’t seen you in a year. Your father—I promise he won’t mind. He misses you too.”
“I don’t know,” I said to her honestly. “I don’t know if I can face him. We were yelling at each other last time. I miss him, but—”
“It won’t be like that again. I’ll talk to your father,” she promised quickly. “I’ll tell him he has to stay calm. You two should be able to talk this out. You were always able to before.”
That was true. I had been close with my father up to the point where I’d announced to him that I wanted to do something other than take over his advertising company. It was something that he had expected me to do since I was little, something that I had never had any interest in. For most of my life, I had been too afraid to tell my dad that my heart wasn’t in advertising, afraid to hurt his feelings, knowing that the fight was inevitable. But eventually, I’d had to do what was best for myself, and that was going into the fashion industry and building my own empire with Les Chic.
“Okay, Mom,” I said, not wanting to argue about it anymore. I would make my decision at a later time, when I was less hungover and ashamed of myself. “Talk to him. Ask him if he wants to see me. I’m not coming unless he says yes.”
“He will,” my mother said, sounding excited. The sound of her voice broke my heart, knowing there was a good chance that I wouldn’t be able to make it. Despite my success, I had never been good at confrontation, especially when it came to my family. Family had always been everything to me, which was a big reason why it had hurt so bad to have such a big fight with my father. “I know he will.”
The door opened then and I glanced over to see Trixie walking in with a pizza for lunch. I shot her an annoyed look and she grinned at me.
“I gotta go. Call me,” I said to her quickly. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” she said, and told me goodbye before hanging up the phone.
“Mama’s boy,” Trixie teased, putting the pizza down on the table.
“You’re one to talk. You told her about last night with Amanda?”
“You were acting like an idiot,” Trixie said, shrugging her shoulders. “It was funny.”
I shook my head at her. “I didn’t sleep with her, right?”
“No,” she said. “You passed out on the couch before she left.”
“Great,” I said sarcastically, sitting down at the counter and pulling a slice of pizza out of the box. I took a bite of it, having to force it down. My hangover was making me queasy. I grimaced, and Trixie frowned at me, standing up to go to the liquor cabinet.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked her in exasperation. At this point, I knew I shouldn’t be surprised by my sister’s constant drinking, but it always amazed me how much she could put down. I had been the same way when I was younger—Trixie was twenty-four, at the peak of her party days, and it seemed to me like she never stopped going.
“I learned how to make a new cocktail. And you need some more alcohol,” she said matter-of-factly.
“That’s the last thing I need,” I told her, screwing up my face in disgust.
“It’ll make you feel better. Everybody knows vodka is the cure for any hangover,” she said. I shook my head in disbelief as she passed a glass of pink liquid over the table to me. I picked it up begrudgingly and took a sip, unable to say no. Trixie was good at making cocktails, and she had a way of convincing me of doing a lot of things I shouldn’t do. When we were younger, it had led to some pretty crazy dares that had gotten us in trouble, but also had made us very close growing up. Trixie drank her liquor down and poured another, then went to my cabinets and started digging through them.
“What are you doing?” I asked her, taking a bite of the pizza, trying to keep it down. It didn’t taste good after drinking the alcohol, but I knew that I needed to eat if my headache was ever going to get better.
“I brought stuff to make a pie,” she said, pointing to a bag that I hadn’t seen her bring in.
“A pie,” I said, raising an eyebrow.
“As a housewarming gift,” she said with a grin.
“Do you even know how to make a pie?” I asked her. I had never seen Trixie cook or bake anything in her life, other than ramen, and even then she had over-boiled it so that it had been squishy and inedible.
“Of course,” she said, rolling her eyes as if it was obvious. I decided to trust her, though I knew it was probably a bad idea. It was hard to say no to Trixie, who was always lively and in a good mood. My sister was the kind of person who always wanted to make everyone around her happy, so I let her bake the pie, despite the fact that I wasn’t quite sure she wouldn’t end up burning the entire apartment building down in the process.
I laughed, shaking my head, and took another sip of my drink. Though I wasn’t used to drinking this much, it was nice to relax with my sister, especially after the tension that talking to my mother had caused me.
KEEP READING WRONG FOR ME HERE.
All Books by Lexi Aurora
The Stonecutter Billionaire Series
Bound by the Billionaire
Bought out by the Billionaire
The Big Billionaire
The Forbidden Billionaire
Keeping Secrets from the Billionaire
The Billionaire’s Nanny
Stone Cutters Billionaires: The Complete Series Box Set
Wrong: The Enemies-to-Lovers Series
Wrong for Me
Wrong Kiss