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“That ugly painting is worth over two million dollars.”

He made a face. “Really?”

“It’s a VanderHooven,” Joan said. “And our last job. And the only reason we’re helping even though Perry took it from a goddamn museum with goddamn Melvin is this buyer trusts me and has the hots for you.”

“I know,” he mumbled.

She raised her voice. “And we’re using the money to open Hot and Cold whether Péricles is involved or not.”

Perry waved a hand to quiet her and moved farther away.

Mark sighed. “Péricles doesn’t want to leave the life.”

Now it was Joan’s turn to mumble, “I know.”

Her brother ripped little pieces off a napkin. “He could do all the spreadsheets and agendas he wants.”

“He’d be in paperwork heaven balancing the books and placing orders and costing out menu items. Putting his fancy college degree to use.”

“I think he’s hurt,” Mark said. “After all he’s done for us, it seems like we’re turning our backs on him.”

“He has to know it’s not personal. We’ve done this before. Only this time, we have a plan.”

“And you have a reason to stick it out.” He tapped one of the lovey-dovey heart napkins.

Joan moaned and dropped her chin to her chest. “I hope so.”

Sadie kept dreaming up ideas for Hot and Cold and was talking more seriously about her café. Her excitement made Joan excited for the future.

A future that could only happen if she told Sadie the freaking truth. But then that wonderful future might never happen.

Mark chucked her shoulder. “I like Sadie, but I have no idea how you’re gonna right this ship.”

Greta had said as much. Only she’d all but guaranteed it was going to explode horribly in Joan’s face.

“You’ve been really distracted lately.”

“I’m all in on the food truck,” Joan said.

“I meant with our current employment. Greta wasn’t wrong. We should probably?—”

“We have to focus on our next steps.” Joan nodded to herself. “We’re making this food truck happen.”

“Because it’ll help you with Sadie?”

“Because it’s what you’ve wanted for a long time.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “There you go, being all big sister.”

“Making up for sisterly guilt,” she muttered.

“Guilt for what?”

Buried shame rumbled to the surface, and for once, she didn’t stuff it back. “Don’t you resent me for everything that went down? With school, with Mom and Dad…?”

Mark just stared at her. “Are you serious?”

“I was the one who caused the most damage. Who did the worst of?—”