Page 143 of My Favorite Holidate
When Leo shares it with me, I’m not surprised. But I will enjoy the hell out of this extra ammo.
As soon as everything and everyone is in place, my best friend and I head directly to Brady’s cabin on the outskirts of the resort I own.
The operative words—I own.
The clock nears eleven. Leo raps loudly on the outer door and I stand to the side, out of view. Rustling sounds come from inside the cabin, then the trudge of tired feet. Brady swings open the door in the middle of a yawn.
“Hey, cuz.” Leo’s upbeat tone gives nothing away. “Got a minute to chat about the big day tomorrow?”
The yawn deepens. “Any chance this could wait till the morning? I’m tired and Iris is asleep.”
I roll my eyes. What a lazy jerk.
Leo flashes him a smile as he shakes his head. “Groomsman business. Needs to happen right now.”
“You sure, man?”
“Positive.”
“All right,” Brady says, like he’s so put out. “It’s just been a rough night for me, you know?”
He has no idea how much rougher it’s about to get.
“Thanks,” Leo says and crosses the doorway.
My turn.I move from beside the door, stepping in front of the beady-eyed asshole. Brady’s wearing a bathrobe, boxer shorts, and a T-shirt advertising a podcast on how to get rich fast. Prick.
“It’s your least favorite person,” I say as his eyes bug out, brimming with fear. “Which is entirely mutual.”
“W-what the hell are you doing here?” Aww, it’s cutethat he’s scared, but then he adds in a mean voice, “After you ruined my phone.”
He cares nothing about people. Only things, money, and himself.
I step inside, closing the distance between us. “Fuck you and your phone. You ruined the entire Christmas competition.” I advance on him through the foyer as he backs deeper into the cabin. “Ever heard of respect? Decency? How about manners? You lurked aroundmy groundsand recorded a private conversation withmy daughter. You cheated in the gingerbread competition with a store-bought gingerbread house. You begged me for an audience to pitch your portfolio management, and when I turned you down—which businesses do all the time, so get used to it, Brady-i-o—you chose to get even with a public shaming.”
He backs into the couch, nearly tumbling onto it, and grabs the arm to steady himself.
“That’s not how you handle anoin business,” I continue. “Learn a little grace, maybe a little humility. Learn how to handle failure. You think you’re a smart businessman?”
I pause, giving the jackass a chance to answer. He manages a shaky, “Y-yes.”
“Wrong,” I bite out. “You’re nothing but a lying, cheating scum. And you know how I know that?”
I wait again.
Brady swallows and maybe for a split second a shred of guilt crosses his eyes. “How do you know?”
“Because I know how you treated the woman I love in my aunt’s wrapping room at Thanksgiving.”
“Fable wasmygirlfriend then,” he says, digging an even bigger hole, then falls onto the couch like a turtle.
Shaking his head in disgust, Leo strides to his cousin. “Do you even hear the words that come out of your mouth?”
I answer for Brady. “I don’t think he does.” Then I turn my full fury back to the prick. “I love Fable. I love her in ways you could never imagine. I love her because she’s smart, and daring, and kind, and big-hearted. She cares deeply for people, and she keeps me on my toes, and you could never appreciate her because you can’t appreciate anything but yourself. You don’t have a clue what a complete and utter dumpster fire you are. But let me enlighten you. Cheating on your girlfriend is not okay. Lying to her is not okay. Treating her like she’s anything other than the center of the universe is not okay.” I take a breath, a very satisfied one, then turn to Leo. “You want to tell him what else isn’t okay?”
A hint of sadness flashes across my friend’s eyes. My heart stops. Will he go soft? But Leo is a good man who doesn’t suffer fools, and a few seconds later, he speaks in a calm, centered voice. “What’s not okay is walking by my side as a groomsman at my wedding after what you did tonight and what you did on Thanksgiving. You cheated on my bride’s sister, and you did it seconds before I proposed. You’re out of the wedding party.”
Brady sputters, then his lower lip quivers. “But Cousin Leo?—”