Page 116 of Bound To Be Mine

Mandy: Promise?

Me: Promise.

I set the phone down and pulled up my calendar, really looking at it for the first time in a few days. It was a disaster. Meetings stacked on meetings, depositions, court dates, conference calls. I’d scheduled myself into oblivion.

But now, with half my workload distributed to the associates, I saw gaps. A day here, two days there. If I moved a few things around, asked my brothers to cover some of the less critical meetings, I could carve out a solid four or five days.

Enough time to fly to LA and hold my wife.

I sent a quick text to the group chat with my brothers and invited them to one of the most exclusive steakhouses in the city. I left it up to them if they wanted to bring their significant others. I doubted Adrian would come, which was fine. I really just needed to talk to Dash and Sebastian.

I spent the rest of the afternoon finishing up the delegation process, making sure everyone knew what they were responsible for. It felt strange, letting go of so much control. But it also felt like freedom. When Dad died, I had just been coming into my own as a lawyer. And then he was gone and it felt like we had all been thrown into the deep end. I didn’t know how to do what Adrian did. I wasn’t a model like Sebastian. And I didn’t have the creative genius like Dash did. My contribution was the law. And I jumped in with both feet. I took away responsibilities from others in the legal department because I convinced myself I could do it better. I was so determined to be perfect that I forgot to be human.

By the time seven o’clock rolled around, I was ready for a drink and some time with my brothers.

The steakhouse was one of those old-school Manhattan places with dark wood paneling and mood lighting. It was very exclusive. The Blackwell family had a standing reservation. If we were entertaining investors or buyers, we always took them to the steakhouse.

Sebastian was already at the table when I arrived. Dash showed up a few minutes later, and Adrian walked in just as we were ordering drinks.

“Elizabeth kicked you out?” Sebastian asked as Adrian slid into the booth.

“She strongly suggested I spend an evening with my brothers,” Adrian corrected. “Apparently I’ve been ‘hovering’ and making her nervous.”

“You have been hovering,” Dash said. “I stopped by last week and you were literally standing over her while she changed Buck’s diaper, offering commentary.”

“I was being helpful.”

“You were being annoying,” Sebastian said, but he was grinning.

Adrian pulled out his phone. “Speaking of Bucky.”

“Oh God, here we go,” Dash muttered.

“I have to show you these new pictures. Look at this one. He’s smiling. That’s a real smile, not gas.”

He held up his phone, showing us a picture of Bucky’s face scrunched up in what could generously be called a smile. The kid looked more confused than happy.

“That’s definitely gas,” I said.

“It’s a smile,” Adrian insisted.

Sebastian leaned over to look. “I don’t know, man. That looks like gas to me too.”

“You’re all terrible uncles.” But Adrian was still smiling as he scrolled through more photos. “Look at this one. He grabbed Elizabeth’s finger. Look at how strong his grip is.”

Sebastian’s expression softened immediately. “That’s actually really cute.”

“Right?” Adrian looked genuinely proud. “The pediatrician said he’s in the ninetieth percentile for his size. He’s going to be a big boy.”

“Of course he’s above average,” Dash said. “He’s a Blackwell.”

We spent the next ten minutes looking at baby photos while Adrian narrated every single one. I had to admit, even though I gave him shit about it, there was something nice about seeing him this happy. This settled. This content with his life.

I wanted that. With Mandy.

Our drinks arrived, and we ordered food. The conversation drifted to work and to the retail expansion plans and Sebastian’s upcoming wedding.

“I cannot believe I’ll be married by this time next year,” Sebastian said.