“We fall in love with each of these houses—” Mrs. Cole starts.
“And watching her fall in love with these homes makes me fall for her all over again,” Mr. Cole finishes. The crowd lets out an aw. Rudy rolls his eyes. “Many of you know this, but when we started flipping homes, our marriage was in a very . . . rocky place. I’m not proud of it. But I am proud of how these homes have helped us find each other again.”
“In fact,” Mom says, “you could say that we started out renovating these homes, but managed to renovate our marriage instead.” She finishes with a love-struck look at her husband that makes Amber almost feel sick. Rudy lets out a “Ha!” and Cecily dutifully downs the rest of her drink, tottering on her wedge heels.
“If you’re curious about seeing the Tremont house—for its beautiful architecture, the progress on its renovation, or, maybe, as a future residency,” Mrs. Cole says with a wink, “be sure to follow our lovely, talented children on Instagram! It is Instagram, right darlings? I do so lose track of what you kids are on these days.” Amber rolls her eyes. As if the family isn’t kept afloat by their sponsorship money. As if Mom doesn’t know their follower count off the top of her head.
“Cole triplets!” Rudy calls out on cue, grinning at the crowd. “@Cole TripsHouseFlips!”
“Yes, dear,” Mrs. Cole simpers. “They post great before and after pictures, and some snapshots from our daily life as well! They’re quite the celebrities—”
“Not real celebrities,” Mr. Cole jokes. Rudy glowers.
“Our celebrities,” corrects Mrs. Cole.
“Our celebrities,” Rudy mocks, rolling his eyes. Amber watches as Mom finishes up the speech with a few well-placed humblebrags about the selling price of the current mansions, their clientele, how house flipping is really “such a dream.”
“More like a nightmare,” mutters Rudy. Mrs. Cole finishes the speech, and small talk begins all over again.
After the lights have faded and the catering team finishes clearing the patio, Amber posts one last picture of the McMansion. So long! Here’s to bigger and better things—new house on Friday! #moving #project #renovation #realestate #triplets.
Then she braces herself to head inside, where Mom and Dad have doubtlessly already turned on her siblings. It’s the one and only perk to being the least popular triplet.
“You really do have to look the part, champ,” their father is saying to Rudy. “You could use a little more muscle definition. You do know you’re named after a football player, don’t you?”
“Rudy was named after a football player?” Cecily asks in mock disbelief. “No way!”
Mrs. Cole hones in on her. “What happened to your dress?” she asks, plucking the spaghetti strap from her daughter’s shoulder. “How did this get so wrinkled? You need to be mindful of these things. Editing can only go so far, dear. We’ll have to check on how that last post performed,” she adds, spotting Amber in the entryway. “Or is that what you were doing on your phone during the party, Amber?”
“I was checking on the sponsored post,” Amber mutters. It’s her secret weapon: the one thing guaranteed to get Mom to pivot from any conversation topic.
“About that,” Mrs. Cole says. “Your father and I were talking and . . . we think we need to up your sponsorship count. This new project is going to take a lot to pull off, but I promise it will be worth it.”
Amber and her siblings exchange a look. From what she’s heard their parents talking about, it has to be. Mrs. Cole looks at Amber, pleading, and Amber caves for the three of them. “Sure, Mom. However we can help.”
Mrs. Cole smiles and puts an arm around her. “That’s the attitude! Great job tonight, sweethearts.” The tone of her voice almost makes Amber relax a little. Almost. “Now, you three need to get to bed and rest up. Big day tomorrow. New house, new us! Oh, one more thing,” she adds, and just like that her voice is ice. “You do not want to find out what happens if I catch you three drinking at one of our parties again. Understand?”
Amber and her siblings nod.
“Night, darlings.” Mom’s voice has done another one-eighty, back to chipper. It’s a clear dismissal.
As soon as the three turn and head down the hallway, Rudy is mocking their dad underneath his breath. “Need more muscle definition. As if.”
“It’s just the money stressing them out,” Amber says. Her siblings don’t respond.
They head upstairs to their rooms for one last time. “Are you guys sad about leaving?” Cecily asks.
“Hell no,” Rudy scoffs. He slings an arm around both his sisters’ shoulders. “Hey—don’t let the parents get to you. The ’gram loves ya, the rest of the summer is going to be amazing, and this house? We’ve already taken all the photos we can here. It was running out of content anyway.”
“Do you think this next house will be . . . it?” asks Cecily, her voice quiet. Amber knows what she means by “it”: the house that will finally get the Cole family out of debt. Once they don’t have to maximize their sponsorship count to keep the family above water, maybe they can focus on their content and finally breaking one million followers. With that kind of following, it feels like they can do anything—if, of course, they’re able to get the family out of debt first. And if their mom agrees to relinquish her control of their account once they do.
“Sure,” Rudy says, and Amber thinks that all the small-talk practice must be working. Her brother is getting much better at lying.
CHAPTER 2
Rudy
“What is up, Cole Patrol?” Rudy asks, Beaming into the Camera at the followers tuned in to their livestream. Being “on” for the camera comes more naturally to him than it does to Amber and Cecily, so he takes on the role of video “host.” He feels his jaw lock up and knows that it’s time to
