The Invoice That Broke the Lawson Family

Not Derek’s.

Not Lorraine’s.

Mine.

Brent stepped closer first, beer lowering slowly from his mouth. “What the hell is this?”

I looked directly at him. “This reunion? The tents, the catering, the bounce house, the barbecue equipment, the custom cookies with the Lawson family crest?” I paused. “Paid for by my company’s community outreach sponsorship.”

Candace blinked rapidly. “No. Derek said—”