Born Savages - Cora Brent Page 0,3

a little girl begging her big sister to let her borrow an expensive dress.

“Please, Loren,” she wheedles. “I need this. We all do. Spence is barely hanging onto the ranch, Ava wants to give her boy something better than a slum life and I can’t even get a screen test for a B level slasher flick. People hear my name and they sneer for god’s sake. They do! You can tell what they’re thinking. ‘The Savages, aren’t they all dead yet?’ This is probably the only shot we’re going to get and I know it might be tacky and vulgar. I know that! I know they will edit the shit out of everything we say and make us look even more ridiculous than we are. But it will also put us on the map. Loren, we’ll be those faces who get showered with several grand just for showing up at some wannabe’s party in Malibu.”

I close my eyes. My sister is counting on the fact that I don’t have it in me to refuse her. She might be right. “Monty?”

She pauses. “Not yet.”

“Does that mean he doesn’t know or he’s refusing?”

My inscrutable big brother has been keeping himself out of reach since he took a ten-month tour of the California correctional facilities. Assault, complicated by cocaine possession in large enough quantities to be considered intent to distribute. But Montgomery Savage doesn’t tolerate being needled in a shoddy bar by some random asshole with a beer gut so he answered with his fists. Unbelievably stupid, considering what he had in his pockets. His sentence could easily have been much longer. And it would have been, except some big name ambulance-chasing celebrity attorney who’d gone to prep school with my father had taken the case pro bono. That was the last time a Savage had been newsworthy and Monty has been keeping quiet down in San Diego since his release. All the gossip says he’s shacked up with some has-been soap opera cougar. He refuses to confirm whether or not it’s true.

But Brigitte evidently hasn’t run her plans past the eldest Savage sibling. She exhales dramatically. “Montgomery has expensive habits and a deep affection for his baby sister. Besides, Monty isn’t stupid. He’ll understand that it’s a better option than whoring himself out indefinitely to some withered, graying snatch and her dusty Emmy collection.”

I wince over the imagery. “Better we all whore ourselves out in prime time living rooms across the nation, huh?”

Brigitte lets out a little hiss. “Cut it out, Ren. Negativity etches permanent wrinkles you know.”

“Yes, Lita. I know.”

She ignores the insult, pretends I’m not mocking her by comparing her to our mother. “This is a legitimate business venture. An entire brand will be forged. The Savages. We can remake ourselves.”

“Those aren’t your words.”

“So? That doesn’t mean they are untrue.”

I’m out of bed now, pacing the room. It’s a small room so it only takes three short strides to get from one end to the other. My apartment is sparsely decorated in a sleek contemporary modern style, courtesy of Ikea. There is a bed, a dresser, a couch and a small dinette. It’s neat and clean and boring. It suits me well. After switching on the single overhead light I perch on the edge of the memory foam mattress, the last vestiges of sleep gone. There’s no use in pretending that I’ll be returning to my Ferris wheel fantasy nap after Brigitte finishes with me.

“Look, I need some assurance that Lita stays the fuck away. I won’t even talk about it unless that’s a sure thing. No maternal surprises for dramatic effect, like we’re sitting down to dinner and she rings the motherfucking doorbell. I don’t want to hear a word about her or I swear I’ll walk.”

Brigitte is ready with an answer. “Oh god, she knows nothing. She hung up the phone when the producers tried to call her. She doesn’t want anything to do with us. Apparently she’s still playing house with the stroke patient she married, probably busily researching the best way to make him choke on a pillow.”

“I’m serious, Bree. It better be written into the damn contract. No Lita.” My headache has grown. I scrabble around in my nightstand for the bottle of Excedrin and swallow two pills without any water.

“I swear it, Ren. On my honor as your sister. I’m not all that excited to see her ever again either.”

My mouth twitches. Brigitte sounds so earnest. Brigitte is a fantastic actress. “You might have