Page 48 of Trailer Trash

Harlow chokes on her water. I can’t help but chuckle.

“Do you want a big wedding?”

She shakes her head. “Not if it costs that much!”

Everyone at the table laughs — except River. He looks me dead in the eye, dark and stern.

“I want you to talk to Mom and Dad. Ask them to pay for the wedding.”

I point at myself. “Why me?”

“Because they’ll give you whatever you want.”

That’s probably true. Oh, well. What do I care?

“I’ll ask.”

River softens and leans back in his seat, appearing relieved. Really relieved. Part of me wonders if that was the point of this dinner. It wouldn’t be the first time my brothers asked for favors. They think I have direct access to our parents’ bank accounts. In reality, Dad has cut me off more times than I can count.

“I’ll probably get married at a courthouse,” Harlow murmurs, only loud enough for me to hear.

A courthouse. Something about that bothers me. They always say it’s the bride’s day.

“Do you have a large family?”

“No. Just a sister and a few extended family. It wouldn’t be worth all that fuss.”

“What do you want? A big or small wedding?” she asks.

This is starting to feel like a date, which I am all for.

“I want whatever my bride wants, but I wouldn’t let her go to a courthouse or wear a cheap dress because she’s worried about money.”

To my surprise, she chuckles. “That’s because you don’t understand reality. It’s not like poor people get a choice in that kind of stuff.”

“So you plan to marry a loser who can’t give you anything you want?”

She balks, like the idea of marrying rich is unfathomable.

“I plan to marry someone I love, and yeah, he probably won’t be rich. It’s not like hanging out in places like this with people like you is something I ever do.”

I sip my water and say casually, “You should aim higher. You’re pretty enough.”

“Oh, gosh,” she mumbles.

That pisses me off. It was a real compliment. She is. I don’t know if I’d marry trash. My brother would. I mean, based on where I met Nina, I’m doubting she has money.

The server returns and opens a bottle, then pours everyone a glass.

Thank God.

I need drunk-Harlow tonight.

12

Killian

Red silk fills my wineglass. Of course, Harlow protests.