She set the mixing bowl down with a thump, spilling graham cracker crumbs across the counter. Wiping her hands on her apron, she turned to face her sister. But she was frozen, waiting for what had to be devastating news by the look on her sister’s face.
“We have a big problem.”
“We?” She held up her hands. “You and mom have resisted my every attempt to help. What you want is a fixer. I’m not going to keep cleaning up the messes you and mom make. Especially not when you continue to keep secrets from me. Whatever that’s about” she gestured toward Quinn’s tears and the computer “isn’t my problem.”
Quinn pulled the computer to her chest and took a choppy breath. “It is if you care about Tate the way you say you do.”
All the discomfort in her stomach hardened into a rock. Olivia crossed her arms and tilted her head toward the main dining room, then started that way, her anger growing right alongside fear. She took a seat at one of two tables she’d set up a few days ago for paperwork.
Quinn sat on the edge of another chair, pressed the computer to her lap and stared at it. “I’m not sure where to start.”
“Skip the drama, just tell me the problem.”
Quinn pulled in a breath. Another. And tears started pouring from her eyes. Her face crumpled and she dropped her head covering her face. “I’m so sorry.”
Despite her anger, despite her hurt, Olivia couldn’t stand to see Quinn so distraught. She leaned in and wrapped her arms around her sister. “Jesus Christ, Quinny. Life’s too short to be so stressed and unhappy.”
“You’re never going to come back,” she half-cried, half-whined.
Olivia pulled back and frowned at Quinn. “What?”
“After this.” She sniffled. “You’re never going to come back.”
Everything inside her braced for a deathblow. “What. Happened.”
“The distributor for our liquor called.”
Olivia’s mind shot back to the phone call she’d gotten an hour before. “District Distributors?”
Quinn gaze her a glassy stare. “Yeah. H-how did you know?”
“They called me earlier looking for you. What kind of problem with the liquor could possibly cause this level of distress?”
Quinn took another breath, then started talking. “They said the payment for the liquor for this event didn’t go through. So, I gave them the credit card number again, checked the expiration date and the code on the back, but it still didn’t go through. I told her I’d look into it and call her back.”
“That doesn’t sound like a problem that warrants all this.” Olivia gestured to Quinn.
Quinn lifted a finger. “There’s more.”
Dread collected like a boulder in her gut. She leaned back and crossed her arms.
“When the payment failed again, I called the credit card company. They said we’re over our credit limit, but that account has our highest limit. That freaked me, but I figured I’d look into it later. So I paid with another card.” She shook her head. “Didn’t go through. Credit limit maxed out. I tried the emergency card. Same.”
Olivia’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Holy shit.” She frowned. “Where’s mom?”
“In Chevy Chase with a client. She never answers her phone when she’s with a client. So I’m panicking now. And even though I know we shouldn’t use cash to pay for things, I went to the bank. The distributer said they’d need cash or a cashier’s check since the payment didn’t clear ahead of time.” Quinn tented her hands over her mouth and shook her head. “There’s no money in the business account.”
“What do you mean no money? There has to be something—”
“Two hundred dollars.”
“What the fuck?” Olivia’s mi
nd was spinning over the debt, the lack of cash. “What happened to all the deposits you’ve been getting for all these new jobs?”
Quinn put her laptop on the table. The screen showed a Wells Fargo bank account. Essex Elite Events bank account page. Olivia pulled the computer toward her, scouring the numbers.
When her sister started pointing toward the amounts and explaining what they were, Olivia lost her patience and snapped, “I know how to read a bank statement.”