Page 14 of Final Proposal

“We’re even then.”

“Yes. Sure. It’s the whiskey talking.” He takes a sip and lifts his eyebrows. “Where were we?”

“Talking about vaginas,” I say purposely to watch his reaction.

“Yes. How could I forget? Clearly, it’s of the utmost importance,” he teases. “Tell me about them.”

“Them?” I tease. “I assure you I have only one.”

“No. Not your vag—” He stops, that boyish grin back. “Brothers. Family. Those people.”

“Those people. Got it.” I chuckle. “There’s not much to tell. I took over my mother’s ownership of the company when she died.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” I shrug subtly. But it’s not okay. I miss her dreadfully. Every minute of every day. But for anyone who mentions it, it’s okay.

“I know it is, but I’m also part of the Moms Who Have Passed Club so unfortunately, I know that it’s okay doesn’t always mean it’s really okay.”

I’m not used to such blatant honesty from a man. It’s welcome and foreign and makes the ring on my finger feel even heavier.

“I’m sorry for you too.”

“It’s okay.” His echo of my answer makes me smile.

“So much easier to talk about vaginas than this, right?”

His smile tells me he welcomes the levity. “So, Ellery, tell me all about the wicked stepfather and evil stepbrothers.”

I laugh this time and decide to explain it as best I can, when normally I’m known to just suck it up and hold it in.

“My real father died when I was nine. My mom remarried a very business-driven man with two sons of his own from a previous marriage. They started a company together doing remodeling, found moderate success, and when she passed away, her percentage of ownership was passed on to me.”

“I sense a but coming.”

“Nothing gets past you,” I say. “But they’re both assholes, vying for Daddy’s attention and approval.”

“Stepdaddy, right?”

“Yes, but it makes my life easier to just drop the step and not remind them that I’m not blood related.”

“And therefore, you are equal.”

“Exactly. Besides, they spend all their time hoping to be the one selected to take over dear old Dad’s ownership when he retires. Hell, everything I achieve they try and take credit for. Every idea I float out there is shot down only for them to say the same thing the next day, and it’s deemed the best thing in the world.”

“In other words, they’re misogynist pricks, and you’re living your own personal, modified Cinderella story.”

“Pretty much to the first and unfortunately, I am to the second part. In their eyes, I should just sit there, look pretty, and stay out of the way except to answer phones and get them coffee.”

“But that’s not what your mom did.”

“No. But they knew she trumped them in their dad’s eyes, and their shit would never fly. Now that she’s gone though . . .”

He snorts. “I may not know you well yet, but I can’t exactly see you accepting a subservient role.”

“Right?” I sigh. “It’s frustrating. Being a part of the company is my right. My mom helped build it. I want to help make it succeed . . . maybe it’s a way for me to remain close to something of hers. Just because I’m a woman—”

“With a vagina.”