Chapter 1
Chapter One
TESSA
Beck
Be honest…if I happen to go through a drive-thru and order a medium fry, put it in my hoodie pocket, and secretly eat them during dinner, do you think Mom and Dad would notice?
Noah
Dad would smell the salt from a mile away.
Graham
No way.
Noah
You’re only saying no because you want some too.
Beck
We all do. I’ll order you one, Graham.
Graham
Van
Don’t.
Me
Can you grab me a Diet Coke?
Beck
Only if you give me Quinn’s number.
I roll my eyes at Beck’s request and type furiously into my phone.
Me
She has a boyfriend. Bring me a Diet Coke!
Noah
What is for dinner tonight? If it’s salmon again, I want fries too.
Beck
Whatever it is, it’ll be saltless and tasteless.
Van
It’ll be healthy and full of good fats which are vital for Dad’s heart.
I click out of the group text and pull up my best friend’s name.
Me
Beck is asking for your number again. I told him you have a boyfriend, so if anyone asks…you’re unavailable.
I grab my keys and head out the door, my phone still in hand. Quinn messages back immediately.
Quinn
Is my invisible boyfriend at least decent looking?
I snort.
Me
Obviously.
Another text from the group chat pops up as I go to close my phone.
Noah
Bring me fries just in case.
It’s a short drive to my parents’ house.
They live ten minutes away, but the difference in our neighborhoods is unmistakable.
Where their house sits high atop a luscious green golf course, the neighborhood hidden behind fancy gates and a security guard, mine has windows that allow the Las Vegas dust to slip through and neighbors that fight every single day only to make up each night.
I know that because of thin windows and walls.
My phone connects with my car’s Bluetooth as I make a right turn. The womanly robot voice cuts through the click of my blinker to say, “Van, in the group chat titled ‘Four Bros and a Mistake dash Tessa’ says, do not bring fries or a Diet Coke.”
My jaw drops in disbelief.
“Would you like to reply?” my car asks.
I grip the steering wheel tightly. “Yes!”
“What would you like to say?”
“Which one of you changed the group chat name again? Jerks!”
After my car repeats my text, I say send and work on unfurrowing my brow during the drive.
My bet is Beck.
He may be older than me, but he’s the most immature of us all. Not to mention, he’s been calling me a mistake for as long as I can remember.
I wasn’t a mistake.
I was a surprise.
There is a difference.
“Noah, in the group chat titled ‘Four Bros and a Mistake dash Tessa’ says, not me.”
I roll my eyes as the other texts come through, all of them denying the action or blaming one another until Van, my oldest brother, chimes in.
“Van, in the group chat titled ‘Four Bros and a Mistake dash Tessa’ says, will someone acknowledge my texts?”
My car comes to a stop as I pull up to the wrought-iron gate. I roll my window down, and Gabriel, the newest guard, steps forward and shoots me his best smile. “Another family dinner where I get to greet the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”
Oh, Gabriel.
My brothers would skin him alive if they knew the forty-year-old divorcee was lusting after me.
“You make me blush,” I tease.
Just as Gabriel rocks back on his heels to feed me another cheesy pick-up line, a text comes through my car’s speakers.
“Beck, in the group chat titled ‘Four Bros and a Mistake dash Tessa’ says–”
I quickly reach forward and grip the volume button tightly between my two fingers, turning it all the way down.
“Have a great night!” I call over my shoulder, driving away quickly as Gabriel tries to make sense of what he just heard.
I turn down my parents’ street, and to no surprise, Van is already here.
Always punctual, being the first born and all.
After parking my car, I angrily grab my phone and change the name of our group text.
The Queen and Her Peasants.
They all know I’m the favorite.
Well, besides Van, but that doesn’t count because, again, he’s the firstborn.
I skip up the porch steps and walk inside the home I spent my teens years growing up in. There’s a light ocean-y scent in the air, followed by lemon and garlic. My nose crinkles, and I pull my phone out of my pocket.
Me
It’s salmon again.
Noah
Goddamnit.
I press my lips together and round the archway. I spot Van on the couch, who clearly reads the latest text and follows it with an eyeroll.
“Vivi,” I sing-song. “Your bestie has arrived.”
“Aunt Tessa!” Vivian climbs down from a chair pressed against the counter beside my mother and springs into my arms. Her little arms wrap around my neck, and I squeeze tightly before placing her back on her bare feet.
“Start it,” I say to her.
She giggles. “Girls rule…”
“And boys drool!” I finish.
My dad, sitting on the couch next to Van, snorts.
“Remember that,” Van echoes. “No boyfriends until you’re at least thirty.”
“Thirty!” Vivi shouts. “Daddy, that’s so old!”
A laugh bursts from my mouth. “Yeah, Van. That’s so old.”
He turned thirty over the summer.
Van flattens his lips before catching my eye. “Are you waiting until you're thirty too? Considering you’ve never had a boyfriend.”
I huff. “That’s not true!”
“Sebastian doesn't count,” Graham, who just arrived, says as he passes through the kitchen to get to the other side of the couch.
I cross my arms and glare at my brothers.
Sebastian was my boyfriend in elementary school.
I’ve had plenty of boyfriends since then. Only, I’ve kept most of them a secret because the moment I’m interested in a guy and my brothers find out about it, he suddenly disappears.
“And Patrick doesn’t either.”
I spin angrily at the sound of Noah’s voice from behind. “Yeah, because of you!”
Van and Graham had already graduated high school by the time I entered for my freshman year, but Noah was a senior, with Beck just one grade below him.
Try having a boyfriend with two overbearing older brothers ruling the school.
Noah shrugs, heading for my mom, who’s busy cutting vegetables for the salad.
“Don’t date my friends, and we won’t have any issues,” he notes, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek.
She presses her face toward him. “Leave your sister alone.”
With Vivian’s back to me, I send my brother the finger. He repays me by pulling a French fry out of his hoodie pocket before shoving it in his mouth.
My eyes grow wide. Betrayal.
Knowing Beck, he’s probably parked out on the street, piling his own fries down his throat before coming inside to feign hunger.
Speak of the devil.
Beck appears beneath the archway, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. I casually walk over to him and give the air a sniff. He smells like the aftermath of a late night: grease and fast food.
We walk side by side toward the living room.
“Where’s my Diet Coke?” I whisper.
“Gave it to your boyfriend,” he answers, lowering his voice. “Oh, wait. You don’t have one.”
Graham coughs to cover up his laugh.
Van is engrossed in a conversation with Dad while Noah is still secretly eating his fries.
I silently snarl at all of them and disappear into the dining room to help Vivi set the table. And by help, I mean quietly going behind her to put the silverware in the correct spot.
Once we’re finished and place all the food on the table, my mom whistles loudly–her signature dinner call when we were kids–and we all find our chairs.
Vivian is in between me and Mom—because girls rule obviously—with my brothers across the table.
My dad sits in his usual spot, at the head of the table.
“Lead it off, V,” my dad says.
Vivian bows her little head and places her hands in her lap to pray. “Um…thank you for my daddy, and best friend, Aunt Tessa. Thank you for my uncles, and the best grandma and grandpa. And…thank you for this food…even though none of us really like fish. Amen.”
I snort loudly, my hand flying up to my mouth to cover up a laugh.
My brothers, all except Van, refuse to lift their heads. Van, on the other hand, slowly raises his and sighs with a slight twitch of his lips.
I glance at my dad, his cheeks red from keeping it together.
After a second, he grabs his fork. “Well, she isn’t wrong.”
Laughter ensues around the table, which is the chorus of these dinners.
“Dad, what is that?” Beck points at the window behind my father.
As soon as my dad turns his head, a French fry sails through the air to land on Vivian’s plate. Her eyes light up, and she quickly gobbles it up before my dad notices.
“Knock it off,” Van snaps quietly to Beck.
He’s the youngest of my brothers, though still older than me, and Van can’t help but father him.
Beck rolls his eyes but then turns to Vivian and winks.
I take a bite of my salmon through a smile.
It’s taken some time, but things are finally back to normal. Or…semi-normal.
After Dad had his heart attack during the height of our most competitive season and gave us all the scare of a lifetime, we weren’t sure how things were going to be moving forward.
He hasn’t been at the shop for the last several months, but our dynamic isn’t that much different from before—other than the fish, of course.
“Kids.” My dad puts his fork down on the table. “We need to talk.”
I freeze with a piece of asparagus dangling in front of my face.
Did I speak too soon?
Van nods in my father’s direction, and it’s obvious he knows something we don’t.
Graham runs a hand through his unruly dark hair. “What’s going on?”
The asparagus drops from my fork, just like my stomach. “Is it your heart again?”
My mom whispers something in Vivian’s ear. She nods excitedly, and they leave the table.
That means this is about Vanstone.
Shop talk.
“My heart will always be an issue, Tess.” My dad shoots me a half-hearted smile. “But there’s nothing new concerning it.”
A crease forms in between Noah’s eyebrows. “Then what’s going on?”
He was probably the most affected when Dad had his heart attack. One second, he was going over two hundred miles per hour on a street circuit, and the next, Van was urgently telling him to pit through the headset because our dad couldn’t breathe.
Silence settles over the table like some sort of warning. My spine stiffens with unease, and I brace myself for what’s coming next.
Van sits taller in his seat. “Dad is taking a step back to reduce the stress.”
“A step back?” I ask. “What–”
My dad puts his hand up, and I stop mid-sentence. “As of today, I will be the Chairman of Vanstone Racing…and nothing more.”
No one says a word.
No one breathes.
The table freezes.
Naturally, I’m the first to break the silence. My lips slowly part. “But…what does that mean?”
With sad crinkles around his eyes, my dad glances at the five of us before answering. “That means the future of Vanstone Racing is in your hands.”