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“So what?” I ask.
“So you’re about to get cut off,” she says.
“I don’t care,” I snap back.
Liz frowns. What had been a hesitant, almost guilty expression turns to defensiveness. “It’s something worth talking about,” she says.
“Is it?” I mutter.
Liz crosses her arms. “Stop making me feel like the bad guy here,” she says. “It’s a big decision. We don’t have to tell them right away. We could wait.”
“We can’t sit on this,” I say. “And if you don’t want to feel like the bad guy, maybe stop acting like Paul.”
I wince as the words leave my mouth. Liz sucks in her breath. But I don’t apologize. It’s harsh, but I mean it. How could this be her first thought?
Liz is looking at me steadily, a realization dawning in her eyes. Then her jaw tightens. “It’s everything or nothing with you, isn’t it?” she asks.
Confusion furrows my brow. “What do you mean?” I ask.
“Your mother told you on the tarmac yesterday,” Liz says. “If you can’t be in charge you’re just going to rip up your golden ticket.”
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” I say slowly. “Really,” I insist at her look of skepticism. “Explain.”
Liz doesn’t. But I can tell she knows I’m serious, and that she just said something that can’t be taken back. Whatever. If she wants to keep her secrets, she can go ahead. I’m used to being kept out of the plan for my life.
“The only thing my mother told me yesterday,” I say, “is that we’re too different to work. And I really didn’t believe it. I didn’t want to believe it. But maybe she’s right.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Liz asks, flushing slightly.
“This isn’t about me getting cut off,” I say. “It’s about your victory. You can’t stand the thought of going back to New York empty-handed.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Liz snaps.
“Is it? Well, I have good news for you. This time next week, Mother will have some other impossible expectation for you to live up to. Maybe you’ll do a better job at that one. Or maybe not. Either way, don’t expect any appreciation.”
“You only think they’re impossible because you never try to meet them,” Liz says.
I have to laugh. “You’ve worked for my mother for how long?” I ask. “A month? Don’t be so goddamn condescending. You don’t know her.”
“No, I don’t. But you two seem to have each other just about figured out. I didn’t want to believe her when she said you’d move on when the going gets tough, but it’s looking like you do.”
I struggle to interpret her words. Are they about the bank? Other women? All of the above? When the hell did Mother say this to her?! And how dare she meddle in my relationship.
“I’m going to do the right thing here,” I growl. “I’m not jumping ship.”
Liz doesn’t respond. She rakes her fingers through her hair and turns away from me. “So I’m the asshole,” she finally says.
“Kinda. Yeah,” I say flatly. “Is an account really worth breaking up a marriage?”
“It’s more than an account,” Liz says, turning on me. “It’s your future too!”
“No, don’t pretend this is about me,” I say. “I don’t care about my inheritance. I want to do this.”
“You don’t now,” Liz says. “But what about after a month of sleeping in that van? Are you going to care then? You’ve never lived in the real world, Rhett. You have no idea what you’re giving up.”
“I’m an adult, Liz,” I say. “I have some idea. But I’m sick of that fucking bank taking precedence over everything in my life. I’m not letting it affect Bill and Marie too.”
“But—”
