Chapter 1 — The Price of a Ride
Dad stared at the blank check.
“I don’t know,” he said. “A few dollars?”
“That is the problem,” I replied. “None of you remember because none of you had to.”
I wrote $2.20 and slid the check across the desk.
Mom’s face tightened. “Is this supposed to humiliate us?”
“No. Humiliation was standing at a bus stop in my graduation gown while my family celebrated a car.”
Dad pushed it back. “We came to discuss business.”
“So did I.”
I closed Brooke’s plan.
“You want four hundred thousand dollars, my staff, and access to my advertising accounts. There is no research, supplier agreement, or proof Brooke has sold one dress.”
Brooke looked at me. “So it is no?”
“It is no to a handout. Not necessarily to you.”
Mom stood. “After everything we did for you?”
“That sentence,” I said, “is why this conversation had to happen.”