Page 8 of Bound To Be Mine

They were all pissed, which made absolutely no sense. This was business. A multi-million-dollar deal that would significantly expand our wedding division. Adrian had briefed me on the cousins’ involvement. They were designers with an established west coast presence. That made sense. They brought intellectual property and existing market share to the table. They were family. They were people we knew.

But this woman? Mandy Carter? I’d read through the contracts twice with a fine-toothed comb like I did every document that crossed my desk. My thoroughness kept our company out of contract disputes. I was the reason we didn’t get our asses handed to us in court.

Mandy’s role was murky at best. She wasn’t a Blackwell. She didn’t own any patents or trademarks that I could see. The business structure showed her as some kind of partner, but the exact nature of that partnership wasn’t clear in the documentation. From what I had seen, she referred people. We had an entire marketing team that handled that kind of thing.

I was curious what her role would be. So I asked. That’s what lawyers do. We ask questions. We clarify. We eliminate ambiguity before millions of dollars change hands.

But everyone was looking at me like I’d committed some cardinal sin.

Classic mistake. They were making this personal when it should be purely professional. I’d seen it a hundred times in negotiations. Someone’s college roommate gets brought into a deal, or a friend of a friend, and suddenly you’ve got dead weight at the table because no one wants to hurt feelings.

The Blackwell name meant something. Our reputation was built on excellence. We didn’t do charity partnerships. And I had never been afraid to hurt feelings. I wasn’t an asshole that bullied anyone or intentionally offended people.

Okay, maybe I was a bit of an asshole, but it came with the territory. I wasn’t mean. I was just good at my job.

Ms. Carter’s mouth opened, then closed. Her cheeks had flushed a deep pink that went nicely with that pink blouse. She was attractive. Natural. The tailored suit showed she understood professional presentation, at least. And I would recognize Armani anywhere. One of our biggest competitors. Ours was better, but Armani was pretty good.

I waited. Silence was an effective tool and I knew how to use it.

While I waited, I noticed the little things. Thick dark brown hair. Green eyes that gave her a slightly exotic look. But my eyes were drawn to her mouth that had moved into a tight smile. She had on a clear, shiny gloss. No lipstick to highlight that pretty pout.

“That was rude,” Cleo finally said.

I shrugged. “I disagree. We’re about to enter a significant partnership. Understanding each party’s contribution is basic due diligence.” I looked at Mandy again. “Cleo and Callum have an established design portfolio that aligns with Blackwell’s aesthetic. The bridal collection is strong. The tuxedo line has real potential. What I’m less clear on is how a wedding planner functions as a partner in a lifestyle brand.”

“Your brother seemed to understand just fine,” Callum said. “Adrian.”

“Good,” I said. “Now help me understand too. I’m not dismissing what you do. I’m questioning the structure of the deal. I’m questioning why you’re here right now.”

“With respect,” Callum said with zero respect, “you’re out of line. This deal was structured with all three of us as equal partners. That’s not new information. It’s in the documents. Adrian is very aware of our business arrangement. Maybe we’ll come back when he’s available. You don’t seem to understand what this deal is about.”

“I reviewed the documents,” I said, finally pulling my gaze from her. She had yet to say a word, which confirmed my suspicion. She was dead weight. My cousins were allowing personal relationships and loyalty to interfere with good business decisions. “I have questions about the documents. That’s what this meeting is about.”

“This meeting is supposed to be to sign the papers,” Cleo snapped. “It’s not a negotiation. You are so far out of line I don’t think you can even see the line from where you’re standing on your very high, clearly self-installed pedestal.”

“I understand you think you have a solid business plan, but I’d rather ask the questions now than six months into a partnership that isn’t structured correctly,” I said. I thought I was diplomatic. Mandy looked like she was trying to decide which piece of flesh she wanted to tear from my body first. “I’ve seen deals fall apart because nobody wanted to have an uncomfortable conversation at the table. I’m having the uncomfortable conversation at the table.”

“How noble of you,” Mandy said.

Her first words. Her voice was slightly husky. I didn’t know if that was from anger or if she was a smoker. Whatever the reason, I liked it. She looked all soft and pretty on the outside, but that voice gave her an edge.

“I wouldn’t call it noble,” I said. “Just doing my job.”

“Just because you’ve never heard of me doesn’t mean I bring nothing to the table. It means you didn’t do your homework. I would suggest you do better in any future endeavors. Now, you’ve made things awkward.”

The room temperature dropped approximately three degrees.

“I don’t feel awkward,” I said with a shrug.

“In every conversation I had with Adrian,” she continued, “he was enthusiastic. Engaged. He understood exactly what I bring to this partnership and why it matters. He reached out to me, not the other way around.” A small pause. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that his younger brother isn’t operating with the same level of information. Or professionalism.”

There it was.

I’d been insulted in conference rooms before but there was something about the way she delivered it that landed differently. Calm. Certain. Like she wasn’t trying to wound me, just stating something she considered factually accurate.

Under all that pink was an ice queen.

A pretty little savage.