Chapter 11
eleven
Cash
O ver the next week, we settled into a routine. After a restless night’s sleep, I’d pace in the kitchen until Charlie got up. We’d eat breakfast together—a double helping for her, Mom’s orders—go muck out the barn, and then she’d come spend the day with me at Dad’s recording studio.
After a couple of sessions, Dad hired her to be the “Album Vibes Manager”—totally not a real job. Basically she gave us her opinion from a listener’s perspective. It was a win-win. She needed the money, and though she didn’t know it, I sang better, played better, and my energy was through the roof when I was performing for her.
When we’d finished for the day, we’d head home, eat dinner, and go train for the race. If we had any energy left, we’d end the evening chilling on the deck playing our guitars together, watching TikTok reels, or just counting the stars. The only thing that would’ve made it more perfect would’ve been her last name not being Greene anymore. But, like my dad reminded me daily, it was just a matter of time. I’d waited this long, what was another nine months?
Everything was going great, like really great—and I was beginning to think Millie’s threats had all been empty.
I thought wrong.
The next Saturday morning, I stood on the edge of the living room, eyes narrowed on the flat screen, rubbing my temples. We weren’t night owls around here. More like early birds. Which is why we hadn’t found out about Millie’s interview on the Breaking Curfew with Nate Midnight Show until Ronny Don woke Dad fifteen minutes ago.
Dad sat on the couch, leaning forward, knee bouncing. Mom snuggled against his side, sipping her morning coffee, tickling his back to calm him. But she was the opposite of calm. Dad couldn’t see, but she looked like she wanted to jump through the screen and rip Millie’s hair extensions out.
Mom took a slow, careful sip and said in a soothing but firm tone. “Ford, if you don’t call Nate Midnight and give him a piece of your mind, I will.”
Dad blew his breath out in an O. “Maybe it’s not as bad as Ronny thinks. Let’s watch the interview first and then we can decide what to do.”
“So, Millie,” Nate Midnight started. “Tell us a little about your relationship with Cash Dupree. How you met, how long you dated…”
Millie tossed her hair over her shoulder. “We met two months ago?—”
“Wait.” Nate leaned forward onto his desk. “You only met two months ago and you expected a proposal at his concert?”
She crossed her legs. “It was a whirlwind romance, you know? It happens all the time. His grandparents were engaged within a week of meeting.”
“Different era, sweetheart,” Dad said.
“The audacity,” Mom said. “The girl just lies whenever it suits her fancy. I wonder if her parents know what kind of daughter they raised.”
“Mom, who do you think she learned it from?” I chuckled, though there was no joy in it.
“He told me he was going to propose,” Millie said. “We’d talked about it for weeks.” Lies. “I was so sure Cash was my forever. I mean, he said he wanted to spend his life with me.” Nope. “But then, well…” She dropped her gaze like it pained her to relive the moment. “You all saw what happened. He left me humiliated after I put my whole heart into our relationship.”
“Is she a theater major?” Dad asked.
“Hospitality and Tour Management,” I said. “Because it’s the easiest major on campus.”
Mom snorted in disgust.
“What’s going on?” Addie walked into the room still in her pajamas, holding the stuffed bunny she slept with every night, her curls wild on her head.
“Come here.” Dad reached for her. “I need my Addie snuggles.” He pulled her into his lap and blew a raspberry on her cheek.
“Stop it, Daddy!” she squealed. “Your face hurts. You need to shave.”
“Shhh, you two,” Mom said. “We’re missing the interview.”
Dad tucked Addie onto his thigh.
“And what about Charlie Dupree?” Nate asked. “Can you explain to viewers the relationship between Cash and Charlie, since they share the same last name?”
“Anyone who’s read Scars and Bestsellers , Tally Dupree’s memoir, knows that Charlie isn’t a Dupree by blood. Ashton adopted her when he married Tally.”
“Why did she just say that like it makes Charlie a peon in a family of royalty?” Mom asked. “Millie never got a switch to the backside. That’s for sure.”
I’d never had a switch to the backside but I understood the sentiment.
Nate settled back in his chair. “So where do you think Charlie Dupree’s been for the past year?”
“Why would he ask her that?” I said. “Millie never even met Charlie.”
Millie’s lips pursed, like she was so above gossip but just had to tell the truth. “It’s really sad, actually,” she murmured, voice dropping. “Charlie had everything. A wealthy family who supported her, the world at her feet. But she squandered it. She spent years blowing through her family’s money. Wild parties. Designer clothes. Until her family cut off her credit cards.”
Mom scoffed.
Dad shook his head, incensed.
Maybe other celebrity families bankroll their kids' young adult years with no-limit credit cards, but not the Duprees. Hard work was as much a part of our DNA as the blood that gave us life. That’s what happens when you grow up on a ranch.
Every one of us had jobs in college. Except for Liam, who didn’t need to because he’d made money through NIL deals. My freshman job was cleaning carpets on campus with Griff. 10 pm to 2 am shift. Super prestigious. Along with Addie, I’d inherit a boatload of money when my parents passed—hopefully after they lived to be a hundred and fifteen. But for now, my parents expected me to earn my way through life, just like they had.
“And when that happened… well…” Millie shook her head in pity. “She crashed, I guess, because last year she ended up in rehab.”
Dad swore.
Mom shrieked.
“Oh no, she didn’t,” Addie said.
My hands tugged at my hair. “I can’t believe she did that. She just told the entire world that Charlie’s an addict.”
Mom shushed us again.
Millie tilted her head toward the host, all wide-eyed innocence. “I mean, addiction runs in the Dupree family, doesn’t it? Ford struggled for years with alcohol and drug addiction. So, you know, maybe Charlie never stood a chance.”
“Babe,” Dad said. “You’re digging into my back.”
Mom lifted her hands. “She does know that we can sue for defamation, doesn’t she?”
I rubbed my temples, trying to work out the headache that was forming. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
Nate agreed. “But you just said Charlie isn’t blood related.”
Millie’s eyes widened, realizing her mistake. But she recovered quickly. “Well, sure.” She huffed. “But Ford snuck them all drinks, underage, before he got clean. Cash told me that. So, like I said, she never stood a chance.”
I glanced over at my parents to see why they had no reaction to that insanity. But they were no longer watching Millie. They were watching Charlie, who was standing behind me, gaping at the TV like she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.
I winced, hating myself.
Because I dated Millie. Carelessly. Not vetting her nearly enough before bringing her into our lives. Not asking her to sign an NDA. Not thinking through the possibilities of what would happen when the relationship ended.
And now, Charlie—the only girl I’d ever loved—was standing here, gutted, taking the fall .
“What do you want to do?” Dad asked her. “We can contact our lawyer.”
Charlie glanced at him, a dead look in her eyes. “Don’t bother.”
He scowled. “But we need to do some?—”
“I couldn’t care less what she thinks.” Her shoulders jerked with an almost shrug. “What any of them think.”
Then she turned and walked out of the room, leaving us speechless.
Mom shook her head. “When did that girl lose all her fight?”
That’s what I wanted to know.
But even more, I wanted to know why .