Chapter 1

The Austin sun beat down, and my food truck, "Sarah's Sizzle Stop," was a furnace, but the upcoming food festival meant prepping like crazy.

I needed specific artisanal chilies for my signature dish, the one that put me on the map.

My usual supplier was out, but the farmers market had them, a special batch.

I was swamped, so I texted my older brother, Kevin.

"Hey, can you grab those chilies from GreenLeaf Organics? My account there is pre-paid, just give them my name."

Simple enough, or so I thought.

He was unemployed again, living with Mom, plenty of free time.

Minutes later, my phone buzzed, not Kevin, but his fiancée, Brittany Jenkins.

Her text was a novel of pure venom.

"Who the hell do you think you are, ordering Kevin around like your personal slave? You think because you have some grease truck, you run everyone's lives?"

I blinked at the screen.

"He has nothing better to do, Brittany, and I'm slammed."

Her reply was instant.

"You're just a lonely workaholic, trying to control him because you can't keep a man. Trying to sabotage our happiness because you're jealous I'm getting married and you're not."

Then the kicker.

"You wannabe bougie bitch, thinking your fancy chilies make you better than us."

I sighed, no point arguing with that level of delusion.

I put the phone down, trying to focus on dicing onions, my eyes already stinging.

It wasn't long before my phone rang again, this time it was Mom, Carol Miller.

"Sarah, what did you say to Brittany? She's terribly upset."

Her voice was already edged with disapproval, the usual tone when Kevin was involved.

"Mom, I asked Kevin to pick up some chilies for the truck, that's it. Brittany lost her mind."

"Well, you know how sensitive she is, dear. Kevin said you were very demanding. You shouldn't upset her, not now. This marriage is Kevin's best chance at settling down, you know. He needs this."

"My needing ingredients for my business, the business that, by the way, helps keep a roof over your head and his, that doesn't matter?"

A familiar weariness settled over me.

"Don't be dramatic, Sarah. Family helps family. Brittany is going to be family."

"Right," I said, my voice flat. "I have to go, Mom, customers are here."

I hung up before she could guilt me further.

This was my life, a constant battle against their entitlement, fueled by the success I'd clawed for after Dad died young, leaving me to pick up the pieces.

And it seemed like the pieces were always theirs, never mine.