works, Hope.”
“Gay and married both equal unavailable.”
“While accurate, I know full well you’re not in the closet and have an unfortunately healthy interest in men.”
Damn. My brother was on a roll. “Are you going to make me plan a baby shower next?”
“No. Amy can plan her own shower.” Something about my brother’s tone of voice warned me not everything post wedding was sunshine and roses.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Did you fight with Amy by any chance?”
Ah. There it was. The moment I’d dreaded. I gave it five minutes before I fully ruined my relationship with my brother and ensured his wife would never speak to me ever again. One of those problems bothered me a lot more than the other. “I wouldn’t call it a fight. I would say I issued some ultimatums on what would happen if she attempted to leave my brother at the altar. She was not happy.”
“She claims she’s upset you had a ball and chain prepared.”
“Oh. That reminds me. Rick wants the ball and chain. I’m going to drop it off at your apartment later, assuming I can roll the damned thing up the steps.” After all the working out I’d done to fit into the damned dress, I could carry the damned ball and chain over my head if I really wanted.
“It’s real?”
“All eighty pounds of it. It’s painted white. I had it custom made to hide under her dress if she really tried a stunt. As you can tell, I didn’t need the ball and chain, so it was worth every penny I spent on it out of my own pocket.”
Mat groaned. “Did you have to?”
“Yes, I did. It got her to the altar.”
“She’s not that bad.”
Like hell she wasn’t. “I caught her trying to climb out the window right before the vows. Yes, I did block her from leaving, yes, I did threaten to use the ball and chain on her to make sure she got to the altar, and no, I refuse to be sorry I did that because you love her.”
“We’ll talk about this later.” Mat hung up.
No, we wouldn’t. I was done with being stepped on. The first thing I would do was take my headache-ridden ass to the cell store, get a new phone and number, and start doing what I should have done years ago: find a better job somewhere else. With my resumé, my certifications in several states, and my experience despite my age, I could land interviews with good companies anywhere in the United States within a week. If my luck held, I could be on the move before my idiot brother and his pest of a wife returned from their honeymoon.
He wanted a fresh start with Amy. I’d give it to him, and he’d just have to deal with me not being in the picture.
And, because I could be the queen bitch over all other bitches, I’d leave him a meticulous record of everything he’d spent, how much his new wife had lost him, and how much I’d personally paid to make sure he could be happily married.
He could deal with his wife, his financial investment woes, and the rest of his issues on his own.
I’d leave the paperwork under the ball and chain in a corner along with a note to ship it to Rick at his leisure. The fallout would be spectacular, but I wouldn’t be around to witness it.
I had a life to live, and damn it, I meant to enjoy it for a change rather than living to make everyone else happy.
I needed to either curb my impulsive tendencies when angry or take the time to fully evaluate the consequences of changing jobs and moving without warning. A smart woman would’ve slept on it. A smart woman with a concussion would’ve waited for the concussion to heal.
Instead, I got a cheap new phone as planned, gave the fancy one a new number, and began taking the first steps towards reclaiming my life.
I returned to my apartment, spent a few hours finishing the accounting work on my brother’s wedding, made copies in triplicate, and prepared to move forward with my plan to find better waters. Mat’s dismissal, after so many grueling hours of dealing with his bridezilla, became the straw that pissed the camel off. My back wouldn’t break. No, thanks to Amy’s bitchiness and her insistence her bridesmaids wear the same size dress, I’d lost the inches but gained the muscles. Hell, by the time I finished with