Page 65 of Unplanned Target

“What is your problem with Owen?” I narrow my eyes. “And don’t act like it’s because you think he genuinely had any interest in Becca. He considered her for about five seconds and the second he found out you wanted her, backed all the way off.”

I’ve gotten to know Becca a little better over the past couple weeks, and I can say with absolute certainty Owen’s interest in her would have never made it past the initial stages. I like her. A lot, actually. But she is not even remotely Owen’s type. And he’s definitely not hers. She clearly prefers her men a little more... Dickish.

“My problem with him, is he’s a fucking goody two-shoes.” Tony lifts a hand, mimicking someone talking as he pitches his voice. “My name’s Owen and I’m a fucking Boy Scout. I bought my mom a house and put my brothers through college. Meh.”

“He put his brothers through college?” Seriously? Can a man be any more good?

“Fuck. I shouldn’t have told you.” Tony rolls his eyes, looking annoyed. “Now you’re going to be even hornier for his dick.”

“Hell yeah I’m going to be hornier for his dick.” I stand up. “Now that you mention it, I might go suck it right now.”

Tony looks like he’s gonna puke, and he deserves it. What sort of prick doesn’t like a guy because he takes care of his family?

One who doesn’t like anybody. Except Becca apparently. And probably my daughter.

My brother fake retches, “I don’t need to know that shit.”

“You’re the one who brought it up, asshole. Don’t start shit, there won’t be any shit.” I shove my chair in, determining this is yet another attempt to get on the same page that has failed. “I’ll talk to you later.”

I don’t make it across the room before my phone starts to ring. I pull it out and groan when I see the number flashing across the screen. I’ve had to update a few contacts with my information, and this one is pretty important, so there’s no way I can ignore it.

Stopping in my tracks, I connect the call. “Hello.”

“Is this Miranda?”

I turn, stalking back to where Tony sits. “It is.” I switch the phone to speaker and set it on the table as I plop back down in the chair I just vacated. “What can I help you with?”

“This is Susan from Safe Harbor. I’m calling about your mom.”

I roll my eyes, because no shit, Susan. Why else would you be calling me? “Has something happened?”

“Unfortunately, your mother somehow managed to convince a visitor she was allowed off the premises. We were able to locate her before she got out of the neighborhood where we’re located, but after meeting with the care team, we’ve decided it’s time for her to be moved to a more secure facility.”

“I thought you had a memory care unit there? That’s why we chose Safe Harbor. Because she would be able to stay there for the remainder of her life and receive the care she needs.” My mother’s dementia diagnosis was only the beginning of what has been one of the most difficult things I’ve had to deal with. Watching her deteriorate more and more is terrible enough, but navigating the care her condition requires has been a fucking nightmare.

Finding a facility with the capability to handle her needs who also had space open took months. Finding a facility we liked took even longer.

Now, hearing we might have to start all over, has me soaring straight toward a breakdown.

“Unfortunately, we are in the process of closing our memory care unit. It simply wasn’t the best use of our space and we weren’t able to facilitate the needs of that particular demographic the way we hoped.” Susan dishes out some carefully worded bullshit that essentially equates to it didn’t make them enough money.

“So what the fuck are we supposed to do now, Susan?” Sometimes I question why people don’t like me. What it is that makes them call me intimidating and unfriendly.

Other times, I know exactly the reasons why. Right now is one of those times. I definitely won’t have to guess why Susan isn’t a fan of mine.

As if he can tell I’m about two seconds away from losing my shit, Tony steps in. “We’re just confused because we specifically chose your facility because you reassured us our mother would be able to remain there and that her care would adjust as her disease progressed.” He leans his elbows on the table, expression deceivingly mild. “And based on what you’re saying now, it really seems like you purposefully misled us so you could have our mother’s money.”

Pretty sure Susan isn’t going to like my brother either.

She starts sputtering. Backtracking and attempting to explain all the ways we misunderstood what they told us.

“Pretty sure we’ve got it all in writing though, Susan.” Tony shrugs even though she can’t see it. “I guess the best thing for us to do now is to take it to our attorney and let him look over that. I’m sure he’ll also be very interested to know our mother actually found her way off the property. That seems a whole heck of a lot like negligence.”

I think Susan might be about to have a coronary. A heart attack at the minimum based on the sounds she’s making and the way she keeps getting louder and squeakier. “That won’t be necessary. We are simply offering you a courtesy call.”

“A courtesy call letting us know you allowed our mother to go out wandering on her own and as a result have decided to breach the contract we signed with your company.” I don’t actually know if that last part is true, but it sounds really good and very scary.

Our mother worked hard for every penny she had. After our dad abandoned us much the same way Allie’s dad ditched her, my mother had to budget like crazy. And she was actually great at it, managing to accumulate a decent sized bank account by the time she retired.