Page 82 of Bound To Be Mine

BRIGGS

The interviewer’s name was Riley. Her personality was huge. I was pretty sure that was how she gained the 4.2 million subscribers she bragged about. She was twenty-six, maybe twenty-seven, running what appeared to be a significant media operation out of a studio in Silver Lake.

We went through the typical getting-to-know-you stuff and then the young woman just went balls to the wall. It was a little scary. She knew everything. And I meant everything.

She knew Mandy’s client history. She knew the Blackwell sublabel structure and how it had worked with Elizabeth’s line. She knew the broad strokes of the partnership and had smart questions about how the pieces fit together.

I had prepared for this the way I prepared for everything. I knew the talking points. I knew which questions were likely to come up and how to answer them in ways that served the announcement without overcommitting on details we hadn’t finalized. I had done media before. I was competent at it in the way I was competent at most things.

But this was CIA-level shit. My eyes went to the stack—and I did absolutely mean stack—of papers on the little table that would be off camera. It was every bit of information Riley had on Mandy and me. The CIA, FBI, and MI6 had nothing on this woman’s investigative skills.

“You really did your homework,” I joked.

Riley smiled. “I always do. My viewers want the real story. All the nitty-gritty details. I cover all the bases.”

“Apparently.”

I didn’t want to be nervous, but it felt like I was sitting down for an interrogation. Like I was trying to get cleared for a top security clearance. I was pretty sure I was very literally hot around the collar. Mandy was chill. All smiles and friendly conversation.

We got right down to business.

Riley leaned forward, her energy almost palpable. “So let’s talk about the new line. Blackwell Couture has been a powerhouse in luxury fashion for decades. What made this the right time to launch a lifestyle brand focused on weddings?”

I’d rehearsed this answer. “The wedding industry has always been adjacent to what we do. We’ve dressed countless wedding parties over the years. But we saw an opportunity to create something more comprehensive—not just the clothes, but the entire aesthetic experience. From invitations to table settings to the overall vision.”

I almost gagged on the words. It was the company line. The words that had gone through legal, AKA me, and would be the statement we would all issue. It was good. It was definitive. It summed it all up in a neat little package.

And I could memorize it.

“And that’s where Mandy comes in,” Riley said, turning to her.

Mandy nodded, settling more comfortably into her seat. “Exactly. I’ve been planning weddings for years, and one thing I’ve learned is that couples want cohesion. They want every element to feel intentional, to tell their story. But achieving that often means working with dozens of different vendors. Fifty shades of pink, I like to say. What one vendor calls blush, another might call champagne. It gets messy and chaotic. This partnership allows us to create that cohesion from the ground up. I’m so excited to put together events that are seamless from colors to every element of the design.”

“Your work has been making serious waves,” Riley said, pulling up something on her tablet. “I was looking at your portfolio. The Morrison wedding last year? That went viral. The aesthetic you created influenced at least a dozen major weddings I covered after that. How does it feel to be a trendsetter?”

I watched Mandy’s cheeks flush slightly. She was genuinely uncomfortable with the praise, which somehow made her even more endearing.

“That’s very kind, but I have to say I’m standing on the shoulders of giants,” Mandy said. “There are so many incredible planners and designers who came before me. I’m just trying to take what they’ve taught me and put my own spin on it. And honestly, I think what resonates with people isn’t necessarily that I’m doing something revolutionary—it’s that I’m listening. My goal is to listen to what couples want and then help them articulate their vision. Our first couple of sessions are chaos.” She laughed and shook her head. “There are hundreds of fabric swatches and pictures of flowers and centerpieces. I give them a smorgasbord and we narrow it down. It’s controlled chaos and so much fun. Weddings should be fun.”

Riley smiled. “That does sound fun. But let’s be real—you’re not just following trends. You’re creating them. The soft romantic aesthetic with modern touches? That’s all you.”

Mandy laughed. “Well, when you put it that way…”

“And now you’re bringing that vision to Blackwell Couture,” Riley continued. “What can we expect from this line?”

I jumped in. “We’re calling it Blackwell Occasions. It’s going to encompass everything from the wedding party attire to bridesmaid dresses, suits, tuxedos, and beyond. But we’re also expanding into the full experience—linens, invitations, even partnering with select venues. The idea is to create a one-stop shop for couples who want that elevated, cohesive look without the stress of coordinating between multiple vendors.”

“That’s ambitious,” Riley said.

“It is,” Mandy agreed. “But I think the market is ready for it. Couples are overwhelmed. They’re drowning in Pinterest boards and Instagram inspiration. They want someone to help them pull it all together. That’s what we’re offering. We’re putting everything in one place.”

Riley nodded enthusiastically. “I love it. And obviously, you two are the perfect faces for this campaign.”

I felt Mandy’s eyes on me. I turned to look at her, and she was smiling, prompting me. We were ready for the question.

“I’m honored to be part of it,” I said, then looked at Mandy and smiled. I felt that smile in my toes. It was genuine. It felt like I had swallowed the sun and was now glowing. Or radioactive. Either way, it was an amazing feeling.

“Oh my God,” Riley groaned. “You two are so in love I can’t stand it. Like, I’m going to need insulin after this interview.”