Page 164

I flip through another invoice. Then I pull out my phone, look at what Dean's being charged, and do the math.

Then do it again because the difference is so damn ridiculous, I think I screwed it up the first time. "Jesus Christ."

Dad leans back in his chair. "What's wrong?"

"The Coopers are paying almost four times."

His eyebrows draw together. "For what?"

"Feed. And from the same distributor ours comes from."

His eyes turn to slits. "Four times?"

"Yes."

"Son, are you sure your math isn't wrong? That's highway robbery."

"Look." I get up and put our invoice and my piece of paper with the math on it. I show him the screenshot.

He looks at the invoice, then whistles. "Well, I'll be…" He looks at everything again.

"I thought I was doing the math wrong, too," I admit.

"They don't buy our volume, but that's still ridiculous."

The Cartwright Ranch buys enough feed every month to get pricing most smaller operations can't touch. We've been with the same company for years. Between the racehorses, cattle, breeding stock, and everything else around here that eats, our account is massive.

I sit down across from Dad and put my arms flat on the desk.

"No," he says.

"I didn't ask yet."

"You have the same look you had when you were seventeen and decided to take my truck to Oklahoma."

"That worked out fine," I claim.

He crosses his arms. "You got arrested."

"Charges were dropped."

He points at me. "Spit out whatever is going through your head."

"What if we give Lainey's father a sub account under ours. Then he'd get our pricing?"

Dad sits back in his chair, pressing his finger pads together, and staring at me.

"What? It's a great idea!"

His lips twitch. "I'm just taking in the moment."

"The moment?"

He nods. "You gave me that look and actually said something intelligent instead of something that I was going to have to bail you out of."

"Ha! Funny!"

Arrogance washes over his leathered expression.