CHAPTER 1
VIVIENNE
I hear the front door open and slam closed, I hear footsteps, and then I smile. “In five,” I say to myself, holding up five fingers. “Four.” I close down one finger. “Three, two, one.” I point at the bedroom door as it swings open.
“What is taking you so freaking long?” my sister, Franny, huffs, coming into the room. “We said five minutes.” She stands there in blue jeans, ripped at the knee, and a white cotton T-shirt tucked into the front. Her blond hair is braided at the side, and her blue eyes are staring at me. We are opposites in every single way. Where she has blond hair, I have auburn hair, just like our grandmother. Where she has blue eyes, I have green eyes, they change with how I feel, and our height is the only thing we have in common. She also has bigger boobs than I do, but that is what the miracle bra is made for.
“How was I supposed to know you really meant it this time?” I ask her as I zip closed my luggage. “How many times did you say five minutes, and then I’m sitting in the car waiting for you guys to be done?” I close my hand in a fist and smack it with my other hand to mimic sex. I walk over to the side table to grab my laptop, putting it in my Louis Vuitton big bag.
“Valid point”—she laughs—“but we are in the car, and Dad already called twice. We are officially late.”
I shake my head, walking around the guest room, making sure I didn’t forget anything. “Why is he like this?” I ask, grabbing my luggage and Louis. “It’s not like there aren’t people at the house already. It’s Sunday.” Sunday lunch is notorious in our family. It started once and just kept going. It’s a day when we all gather at someone’s house and eat ridiculous amounts of food. “I bet you, right now, at least forty people are in his house, and he’s still pacing around like no one is there.”
We walk down the stairs toward the front door. “You know, unless the four of us are there, he feels like he’s missing a piece of himself.” She mimics the words he says all the time. I can’t help but chuckle at the irony of it. He’s big bad Matthew Grant, but his life is all about his family.
The hatch of the Range Rover swings open, and Wilson, Franny’s husband, gets out of the SUV. He’s wearing shorts and a T-shirt with a baseball cap backward. “What took you so long?” he asks, reaching for the bag in my hand.
“I thought you guys were banging,” I answer him honestly, and he laughs. “You know, since you don’t have the baby, you got to get a couple of rounds in before she comes back and cockblocks you.”
“As if my daughter would cockblock me,” he jokes as he puts my luggage in the back and presses the button for the hatch to close.
“It’s all fun and games until you walk in on your parents grinding uglies.” I close my eyes when I think back to walking in on my parents not so long ago. “I swear I’m suffering from PTSD.” I walk over to the back door of the SUV and open it, getting in.
The drive takes us less than three minutes, and I see the street lined with cars. “Why was he calling when he has a household full of people?” Wilson mumbles as he gets out of the car.
I laugh, getting out and walking up the driveway to the front door. My parents split their time between New York, where my father was the GM for the New York Stingers but is now the team owner, and Dallas, where my brother, Cooper, plays on the team. My other brother, Chase, is their team doctor.
The minute I open the door, I can hear the chaos from the kitchen spreading out into the foyer. The number of baby bags at the door is on another level. “There is your mom,” I hear my mother say as she walks into the room holding Stella, Franny’s one-year-old daughter.
“Hi, baby girl,” Franny coos, holding out her hands for her daughter, who just stares at her like she did her wrong.
I roll my lips. “Someone is holding a grudge,” I state, walking over to my mother and kissing her cheek. “Did your mom desert you, Stella Bella?” I ask her, and she just looks at me. “Trust me, this is so much better than walking in on her trying to ride your father.”
“Would you stop that?” my mother shrieks. “We were dressed.”
“Not even close.” I shake my head. “Not one stitch of clothing was around either of you.”
“Look at my princess.” Wilson smiles at Stella, and she side-eyes him, too.
“Tough crowd. I would ask you to come to me, Stella, but let’s be honest,” I tell my niece. “You don’t really want me either.” I lean in to kiss her cheek, and she whines and tries to push me away. “I’m going to go see my other favorite niece.”
“Don’t threaten her like that,” Franny scolds, pushing me away. “Come and see Mommy.” She holds her hands out.
“Ask her to wash her hands first,” I throw over my shoulder. “Chances are she had your dad’s pickle in her hand.”
“There you are,” my father says, coming out of the kitchen. “I’ve been waiting for you.” I just laugh at him.
“Dad, there are about a hundred people here.” I look around, seeing kids running everywhere.
“Yes, but I missed my baby.” He grabs me and brings me in for a hug. “It pains me that you don’t use your bedroom here.”
“It pained me to see you naked,” I counter back, and he laughs.
“Are we still leaving after dinner?” I ask, and he nods his head.
“Plane leaves at seven,” he says. “Should get in about eleven local time.”
“Sounds good. I have something to do tomorrow,” I tell him and walk away before he asks me what. I step into the kitchen, stopping to kiss a couple of the kids and say hello to my sister-in-law, Erika. “Where is my favorite niece?” I look around. “Who just turned four.”
“Good save.” She laughs. “She was in the backyard discussing why we should get a dog with your brother.”
“Aw,” I say, putting my hand to my chest. “You’re getting a dog?”
“Immediately, no.” She shakes her head. “I said they were discussing it.”
“You know he’ll just say yes.” I laugh, grabbing a plate and walking over to get some food.
“He says yes, and I’m leaving him,” she huffs. “We already have a million kids. I don’t have time for a dog.”
“You think he’s going to allow you to leave him?” I throw my head back and laugh. “How far do you think you’ll get before he drags you back?”
“What are you two talking about?” my brother, Cooper, asks, coming beside Erika and pulling her to him. The two of them were best friends who then fell for each other when he got divorced.
“She said she’s leaving you if you tell Felicia that you can get a dog,” I fill him in, and he laughs.
“Never.” He shakes his head. “It’s not that bad. I asked Dylan.”
“Cooper Grant,” Erika warns. “I’m not kidding with this one.”
“I know,” he says. “I sent her to ask my dad.” We both gasp. “Let him say no to her.”