The Family You Make (Sunrise Cove #1)

Levi didn’t blame her. He didn’t want to do this either. “Can everyone see my laptop screen?”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Tess said. “I caught Mom and Dad ears to the wall, fully eavesdropping on you earlier. So chances are, they already know whatever it is you want to tell us.”

His mom glared at her beloved daughter. “That’s going to cost you my chocolate chip cookies.”

“I already ate them,” Tess said.

His mom looked at Levi. “I’m sorry. But you were on the phone and I was hoping it was with Jane.”

Levi drew a deep breath. Everyone in the house knew that the study was directly overhead. They also knew that if you put your ear to the wall behind him, the one with the doorway to the living room, you could clearly hear every word said in the study. “I was on work calls. For Cutler Analytics.”

“I know. It was very boring,” his mom said, looking disappointed. “Though I did hear you swearing.”

“I was swearing because your printer is ancient and prints a page a year. I’m buying you a new one.”

“We don’t need a new one,” his dad said. “That printer works just fine. A new one will only break. They don’t make things like they used to.”

“Dad, you have to shake the ink cartridge after every page you print.”

“So she’s a bit touchy, that’s all,” his dad grumbled. “She still has a lot of ink left in that cartridge—don’t replace it. Those fuckers are expensive. And I still don’t see why we couldn’t have done this in the study.”

“Or in the living room on the comfy couches,” his mom said.

“You don’t allow liquor on the couches,” Levi said, handing out glasses of orange juice. Then he grabbed the vodka from the freezer, pouring a healthy shot into the OJ glasses.

“It’s eight A.M.,” his mom said.

“Eight seventeen,” Levi said. “Which means that somewhere, it’s five seventeen. And a mimosa contains thirty-two percent of your suggested dose of vitamin C, so you’re welcome.” Then he pregamed by downing his.

His mom stared at him, looking worried. “It must be bad if my most well-behaved child is drinking so early.”

“Excuse me,” Tess said. “Most well-behaved child?”

“Honey, when you graduated and I went to have a little celebratory . . . ‘mimosa,’ my vodka was nothing but water.”

“Fine,” Tess allowed. “But Levi screwed up plenty too.”

“He was an angel,” his mom said.

Levi winced.

“Oh my God,” Tess said, tossing up her hands. “He’s no angel. You just never caught him at anything.”

True story. “Focus,” he said. He handed out the folders with the evidence of Cal’s creative accounting, along with Levi’s plan on how to steer the damaged ship without going under. “I’ve also sent each of you the digital file.”

“What is this?” his mom asked, flipping through the pages.

“It’s an accounting of where the store stands financially. I’ve run all the monthly and year-end reports, so what you’re looking at are the balance sheets for the different departments, all of which have their own bottom line, debt-to-income ratios, accounts receivables and payables, assets, and inventory orders.”

“Why does it look so much worse than last year?” his dad asked.

“Because it is worse than last year.” Levi paused. “Orders were placed for store inventory, large orders. The money left your account to pay for those orders, but we never received the inventory.”

“Well, that doesn’t make any sense,” Tess said. “Cal was in charge of all of that . . .” She gasped softly. “Oh my God.”

His dad ran a hand down his face. “Fuck.”

“Hank!” his mother gasped.

His dad slugged his OJ down.

Jasper farted. At least Levi was pretty sure it was Jasper.

Tess looked like she wanted to throw up. Instead, she also drank. Swallowed. Pounded her chest. Then pointed at Levi. “Are you telling me that the lying son of a bitch I’m still married to was stealing from Mom and Dad to fund his new life with his girlfriend on some gorgeous island near Bali that he could never find the time to take me to?”

He nodded grimly. “It looks like he was creating invoices for fictitious accounts to funnel the money to himself.”

“Fictitious accounts?” his mom asked.

“Yeah, there are a bunch. One of them is called Buffy Slater.”

His mom drank her glass down.

“What?” his sister shrieked and leapt to her feet. “Buffy Slater is the babysitter’s name! We need to sue. We need to call the police! We need to kick his ass!”

“Yes,” Levi said, pouring her another drink, nudging it toward her. “All of that, and not necessarily in that order.”

Peyton stuck her head in the kitchen. She was in Wonder Woman pj’s, hair looking like an explosion in a mattress factory, her face pink as if she’d been sleeping on it. “Hi! I wanna have a drink too!”

His sister drew in a steadying breath. “Not now, baby.”

“Okay. Then can I have candy for breakfast?”

Levi went to the pantry and came out with a single-serving-size packet of natural fruit gummy bears and a to-go box of apple juice.

Peyton beamed her thanks. “Will you come to my tea party? I’m all set up in my room.”

He crouched in front of her, opened the gummy bears for her, and then ruffled her hair. “Give me a few minutes.”

“My mommy says that, but a few minutes never happens.”

“Have I ever not come to you when I said I would?”

She thought about that. Then shook her head.

“So I’ll see you in a few minutes,” he said.

“Okay, but don’t forget to dress up as a girl superhero! Only girl superheroes can come into my room.”

He grimaced, but his sister pointed at the screen. “How long?” she whispered. “How long has this been going on?”

Shit. Levi really didn’t want to tell her this. He gave Peyton a kiss on the forehead and gently nudged her out of the kitchen. Then he rose to his full height and looked at his sister. “Two years.”