Page 12 of Cash
Swallowing hard, I turn around and head back to the main road. I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do. But I’ll be damned if some stuck-up city girl gets in the way of giving my family the life they deserve.
She wants war, I’ll give her war. I still got some fight in me.
Fight’s all I got left.
CHAPTER 3
Mollie
SWEET-TALKING SACKS OF SHIT
“Mom? Did you hear me?”
Mom nods, even though she continues to look down at her phone, thumbs flying over the screen. “Yeah. Sorry, honey, you know that huge listing I’ve been chasing?—”
“The one in Highland Park?”
“Yep.” Mom smiles at her phone. “An email from the owner just came in. I think I got it!”
“That’s amazing. Congrats.”
She finally looks up at me, grabbing her unsweet tea. “Biggest listing in the firm’s history. Sixty million! Can you believe it?”
“Sixty? Wow. Who owns it?”
“Didn’t I tell you? I thought I told you.” She frowns when the server sets down her salad. “I’m sorry, but I asked for this with the dressing and the croutons on the side. The cheese too. Oh, look, Mollie, they also left everything on your salad.”
I manage a tight grin. “Pretty sure I ordered it that way.”
I returned to Dallas from Hartsville several days ago, but Mom’s been traveling and only arrived back in town this morning.
“Oh.” She turns back to the server. “Well, just to make iteasy, why don’t you take both salads back and bring them with all that stuff on the side for us? Thank you.”
I watch, stomach grumbling, as the server whisks away our plates. “You know if you take off the croutons and the cheese and the dressing, all that’s left is lettuce and some radishes?”
“All that dairy and the wheat in the croutons—I’m sure that won’t do your tummy any favors,” Mom says.
I love my mom dearly. She raised me on her own, and even though she worked full-time, she still showed up to every dance recital, graduation, and tennis match—unlike Dad, who didn’t show up to anything. I have nothing but the utmost respect for her.
But goddamn, sometimes I wish she’d let loose a little. I wish she cared a little less about her looks. A little less about keeping up with the Joneses.
“Anyway,” she continues, “this guy owns one of the big oil and gas companies. He’s moving to the UK with his new wife. Apparently, they’re gutting a swanky place in Kensington, right near where Will and Kate live.”
“Ah. Good for them.” I reach for my tea.
“How’d the pop-up go at Georgana’s?” Mom asks, referring to the boutique that hosted Bellamy Brooks’s most recent pop-up here in Dallas.
“It went well—a step in the right direction for sure. We didn’t sell a ton, but I did make inroads with some big fashion influencers. Wheeler and I set up meetings with them.”
Mom grins. “Aren’t you glad Dallas is such a fashion-obsessed place?”
“Totally. I’m not sure Bellamy Brooks could really thrive anywhere else.”
I really do mean that. Pop-up shops like the one we just had at Georgana’s are the lifeblood of our business. Gaining access to their clientele is priceless, and the exposure we geton social media leads to the kind of invaluable brand recognition that will hopefully get Bellamy Brooks out of the red.
It also helps that tons of powerful influencers call Dallas home. These men and women have hundreds of thousands of followers on social media, and if they post about your products, it can significantly boost sales. But you have to get on their radar, and being able to meet them in person here in Dallas has been huge in that aspect.
“I’m proud of y’all,” Mom says.