secret, illegitimate offspring of a Texas oil tycoon. Her estate went to him.”
“Well, shit. I didn’t see that coming.”
“Yeah. Same.” She cleared her throat. “Money is no longer an issue.”
“I got that when you said he put you up at The Peninsula Hotel. It’s a pretty ritzy place.”
“Surreal.” And she meant it, too. Here she was, at just twenty-five years old, dropped smack dab in the middle of a total lifestyle change. Her couponing skills felt superfluous at the moment.
“We’re off to Montecito tomorrow. More meet the family activity.”
He sniggered. “What about you and the baby daddy? Did you guys kiss and make up or no?”
“Shit, Reed. His name is Arnie, not baby daddy.”
“I don’t fucking care if his name is Jesus. That’s not how this works, twerp. He got my little sister pregnant. According to the guy code, this gives me long-term slandering rights. I don’t care if he marries you and is the best husband on the planet. He’s a baby daddy. Period.”
Yeah, well, Arnie did kind of deserve the snarky title, and after all, it was funny even if she did pretend the expression annoyed her.
“He’s not off the hook. Not by a long shot. And he’s not staying here.” She sniffed to make her point.
“Thank god, you’re not after his money, right?” He cackled gleefully. “Hey, do you know why blondes can’t add ten plus five on the calculator?”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. Reed had a blond reference for most everything.
“No. Tell me why.”
He chuckled. “Because they can’t find the ten button.”
And there you have it, folks! The best summation of why she wasn’t about the money. Money involved numbers, and numbers were dull and boring. Just like jogging.
She quipped, “Hardy har har.”
“Wait, wait, I have another,” he boomed merrily. “So a blonde finds herself in serious money trouble. Desperate, she prays for help. God, please help me. I've lost my job, and if I don't get some money, I'm going to lose my house. Please let me win the lottery. Lottery night comes, and somebody else wins. She prays again, and on the next lottery night, still no luck. One more time she prays, God, why have you forsaken me? I've lost my job, my house, and my car. My children are starving. I never ask for help, and I've always been a good person. PLEASE let me win the lottery just this one time so I can get my life back in order. Suddenly, there is a blinding flash of light as the heavens open. The blonde is overwhelmed by a thundering voice. Sweetheart, work with me on this.... Buy a ticket. Bwahhahaha!”
Okay, the joke was funny, and she giggled as he laughed.
“I have to go, but I’ll stay in touch,” she assured him. “Thanks for always being there, Reed.”
“That’s what brothers are for.”
Arnie checked and double-checked to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything.
Cradling his daughter in her sling, he asked for her opinion. “What do you think, Ari? Can this help score Daddy some points?”
A stack of boxes, some wrapped, sat on the dining table. A balloon arrangement was tied to one of the chairs. A beautiful arrangement of pink and white roses sat directly beneath the crystal chandelier.
He saw on a message board in an online group for new dads how push presents were all the rage. The distasteful expression made him cringe, but it didn’t stop him from seeing the sense behind the practice. Though he’d never dream of using the tacky phrase, he embraced the indulgence with fervor.
“What’s all this?” He heard Summer’s tinkling giggle as she stepped from the bedroom. Her eyes sparkled with happiness as she took in the display he set up right outside the bedroom door.
Ari saw her mother and got excited. She open and shut one little hand and smiled. “Gah!”
Summer hurried to give the baby a smooch. When she straightened and their eyes connected, Arnie’s face broke into a happy grin. She was his, and they both knew it.
“What have you done?” she drawled.
“I come bearing tributes,” he boomed like a stentorian orating for an audience of one.
She giggle-snorted. “Tributes?”
He dialed the cocky in his grin to an eleven, and said, “Just trying to stand out. Sounds cooler than gifts, right?”
It took her doing a double take and moving closer to see what was on the balloons. One said, Naughty or Nice. Another said, Boner Available. Were they tacky as hell? Absolutely and it was exactly why he knew she’d laugh.