Free Going All In by Alannah Lynne, Cassie McCown Page A

and hire someone to paint it for you. Between the sale of the fishing pier”—her lip curled in an involuntary reaction to speaking the words she found distasteful—“and your trust fund, you can buy whatever you like.”
    Callie repeated the dip-dip-wipe with the paintbrush and made another barely visible stroke down the opposite side of the flower petal. Callie would never be able to find a new piece of furniture with this kind of character, and she enjoyed painting. On most days, it relaxed her. Tonight, however, Jen’s yammering was zapping her Zen.
    “We’ve been over this a million times.” Callie set down the brush and picked up her water bottle. “I’m not using any of that money.”
    “Why? Why are you so stubborn about this?” Frustrated, Jen shook her head. “It pains me to see you going to work every day, then coming home to”—she flipped her hand over and waved it in the general direction of the dressing table—“this. You were born into a life of luxury. You’re not made for manual labor.” She pursed her lips. “Some women have to marry for money, but you don’t. With your trust fund, you can do whatever you want, whenever you want, with whomever you want, for as long as you want.”
    Callie sighed and traded in the bottle for the brush. She might not achieve Zen, but keeping her hands busy would keep her from slapping Jen. A part of her recognized this as the chance she’d been waiting for to release her pent-up frustrations and resentments, but she was tired and not mentally prepared for battle tonight.
    At the club, she’d been itching for a confrontation, and she questioned if her courage stemmed from being with Wade. He made her feel more carefree—some would say less uptight—and a whole lot braver than she really was. He made her want to expand her horizons and experience life from a different angle.
    But he wasn’t here now, so she settled on a more docile approach. “I like painting. It’s calming.” Usually.
    “Painting is fine. There are lots of famous painters, and lots of celebrities paint. But… well… they paint on canvas, not used furniture.” She shuddered. “You don’t know where that thing has been. I can’t believe you actually brought it into your condo.”
    “That’s why I scrubbed it really well.” Callie couldn’t hide the mischievous smile pressing against her lips. “It’s also why I painted the whole thing with Kilz. That way, any remaining nastiness is sealed in, and I don’t have to worry about it getting on me.” There was a grain of truth to the statement, but she’d scrubbed the entire piece with bleach a couple of times. She wasn’t the least bit worried about crud. She mainly wanted to get under Jen’s skin, and from the look on her face, it worked.
    “That’s disgusting.”
    The front door opened and the smell of fresh-baked goodies poured in, punching up Callie’s hunger and causing her stomach to growl in response. Water pooled in her mouth and she stood, as if in trance, following the scent.
    “I made fresh-baked brownies,” Tiffany said. “Who wants one?”
    Jen rolled her eyes. “You two are turning into a couple of Martha Stewarts.” She leaned forward and peered into the pan as Tiffany set it on the coffee table in front of the sofa. “But I have to admit those look tempting.”
    Tiffany, who had the uncanny ability to ignore the negatives and focus on the positives, beamed. “They’re white and dark chocolate marble. Try one.”
    “Just one?” Callie said with a laugh. “I’m counting on that being dinner.”
    “We made something similar last week in cooking class. I tweaked the recipe a little, so…” Hesitation and uncertainty crept in. “If they’re no good, I can whip us up something else.”
    “I’m sure they’re great,” Callie called over her shoulder as she went to the kitchen to wash her hands and grab some plates and napkins. “So far, everything you’ve made has been