Chapter 22
Brian
My pulse thudded in my ears. Was this too much? I didn’t want to be the guy who threw money around like an asshole. From what I could tell, Jess’s ex was that kind of man. Why the hell would she want anything to do with another dick who flaunted his money?
But Sloane and Lo had insisted that I make a gesture.
Despite my apprehension, I couldn’t deny that this was perfect. Jess and the girls were huge fans, and seeing Lake Paige in Boston meant taking Jess back to the place where we’d fallen in love.
The thought of making her happy powered me through an almost sleepless night.
While I lay in bed, with the damn cat on my chest, my thoughts moved from one detail to another.
I’d clarify with her that she was not obligated at all to spend any more time with me if it wasn’t what she wanted.
There would be no pressure. Nothing like that.
No strings. She was still a client, after all.
The concert was next weekend and technically sold out, but if I knew my sister, she could make it happen for me.
“Hello, my lovely brother.” My sister’s voice was almost drowned out by the chaos swirling around her. It wasn’t surprising. Dylan was the definition of a free spirit. My opposite in so many ways but also the person I cared about most. “You always call on Thursdays, but it’s Monday. Are you okay?”
I winced. She knew me too well. I may be a little too attached to my routines. Yet another thing to bring up with Dr. Johnson next week.
“Dylan.” I took a deep breath, gearing up to open the enormous can of worms this request would bring with it. “I need a favor.”
“Name it.”
“It’s Jess.”
The screech she let out all but pierced by eardrum. Eyes squeezed shut, I pulled the phone away from my face.
“I knew it,” she gloated. “I told you that garnet crystal I sent would do the trick. Finally. You’ve been so lonely and grumpy for so long.”
“Hey,” I grumbled. I had hardly been guarding a bridge for all these years.
“Hold on.” A rustling sound. Then, “Cortney!”
I pulled the device away again.
“Brian needs us.”
“Everything okay?” Cortney asked, his deep voice a little farther away, like Dylan had put the call on speaker.
My brother-in-law was careful and a planner. The exact sort of man I would have chosen for my free spirit sister. He also managed Boston’s MLB team—a team I’d been raised to hate my entire life, but we couldn’t win them all.
“Start from the beginning and tell us everything,” Dylan insisted. “It’s hard for me to read your aura over the phone, but I’m getting some deep green vibes.”
I walked them through the last few weeks, doing my best to remain neutral and impassive so as not to excite Dylan too much. If I let her get too far ahead of herself, she’d probably show up here tomorrow with her sage and smudge the whole place to clear out my love chakras.
“So you’re in love with her,” she declared.
“No,” I said sharply. “I don’t know. I can’t do anything but be her friend while I represent her. But I want to show I care. I want her to know I’m interested.”
“The ball is in your court,” Cortney finished.
“Yes.” I sighed. “I don’t want to be creepy or go too over-the-top, but I’ve worked hard; I can afford to do something special. So…” I blew out a breath. “She and her daughters are huge fans of Lake Paige.”
“Aw, shit. Hold on,” Cortney said.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling Beckett on the intercom. He’s gonna want in on this.”
Dylan had lived with her three best friends and their kids before meeting and marrying Cortney.
Now that she and her friends had all found their partners, they were neighbors.
Each had their own brownstone on the same street in Boston, equipped with a state-of-the-art intercom system so they could contact one another easily and keep track of their kids.
Beckett technically lived next door, but despite the walls, there were not a lot of boundaries.
“I do not need Beckett Langfield to help me impress a woman,” I said through gritted teeth.
Cortney barked a laugh. “Normally I’d agree with you, but this time, you’re wrong.”
Within minutes, Beckett Langfield, billionaire owner of the Boston Revs and Cortney’s boss-slash-best friend, greeted me.
“I’m here to fix your problems,” he declared. “Let’s switch this thing to video.”
“We don’t need video,” Cortney said. “What are you doing?”
“Butt out, Man Bun.”
“Guys,” I said over their scuffle, “I’m the one who called you about tickets.”
“Tickets? Dylan said this was an urgent love crisis.”
Before I could explain, my phone rang with a FaceTime request. With a sigh, I answered, coming face to face with Dylan, Cortney, and Beckett.
Beckett, who was dressed in a full suit, cocked a brow. “So what’s the situation and how are we fixing it?”
“The universe has granted Brian another chance with his first love,” Dylan trilled, one hand dragging the rose quartz pendant at her neck along its chain—a habit of hers for as long as I could remember. “And he wants to make a grand gesture to show his interest.”
I took a deep breath. “She and her daughters are huge Lake Paige fans. And she’s playing Lang Field next weekend.”
“Yes,” Beckett said. “We’re all going. The girls are losing their minds.”
“I can buy resale tickets,” I went on. “Money isn’t the issue here. I just want to make it extra special. Think you can help me out?”
“Absolutely. You’re welcome in the owner’s box with us. I’ll make it happen. Get here early and join us for the preshow backstage meet-and-greet too.”
“Seriously? They can meet her?” I asked, my heart in my throat.
“Yes, Brian. It is my stadium, and Lake is my sister-in-law’s best friend. What’s the rest of your plan?” He raised his dark eyebrows expectantly.
That was as far as I’d gotten. Obviously I’d coordinate transportation and get a hotel room. But seats in the owner’s box and backstage passes? Already, it was more than I could ask for.
“The Miller Group just acquired the Greenbriar Hotel,” Dylan said. “Let’s reserve the penthouse.”
She looked at her husband expectantly.
“Would you want that?” Cortney asked me.
“Ooh, yes.” Dylan clapped before I could respond, her golden eyes—the same color as mine—danced. “We’ll have a big sleepover with all the kids. And do hair and makeup and outfits for the concert. That way you and Jess can get some alone time.”
Beckett offered his fist, and she bumped it.
Based on the ease with which the two of them were making plans, this was not the first time they had played matchmaker.
“Okay, then, that’s settled.” Cortney said. “Backstage passes and hotel.”
“That’s not a plan,” Beckett said. “What else? Do you need the plane?”
“No, we can take Amtrak.”
“Amtrak?” He slammed his coffee mug on the table, causing liquid to splash over the lip.
Cortney reacted immediately, wiping the coffee off the pristine surface.
“Now you’re just ducking with me,” Beckett ranted. “Take the helicopter at the very least. It’s faster, and the kids will love it. Your girl too. It’ll really make her feel special. And it’s easier than getting a runway at Logan these days, anyway.”
“That must be a you issue,” Cortney teased him.
“Duck you. The entire team had to circle for forty minutes last week.”
“Because I wasn’t with you. Air traffic control never gives me shit.”
“I can’t,” I hedged, interrupting their banter. “It’s too much.” In the span of five minutes, my plan had evolved from acquiring hard-to-get concert tickets to an over-the-top circus.
“It worked for Cal.” Okay, he did have a point there. “You think your first love just walks through your office door every day?” Beckett grunted. “Get it together.”
“Lay off him.” Cortney interrupted. “He’s got a plan. Don’t bulldoze him.”
Beckett threw his hands up. “I’m not bulldozing. He just doesn’t know what he needs.”
Cortney groaned. “And you do?”
A slow smile spread across Beckett’s face as he turned to Dylan. “I got you your wife, didn’t I?”
Dylan giggled as Cortney let out a sigh.
“She’s still my client.” I scratched at my beard. “Nothing can happen.”
“Gotta play the long game,” Beckett said. “You can’t leave anything to chance. Make a plan and execute.”
“Easy for you to say.” I huffed. “You forced your crush to marry you.”
Smiling, he held his mug up in a toast-like gesture. “Yes. Best decision I ever made. You wanna win big, you gotta swing big.”
“I’m with Becks,” Dylan said. “Fate has intervened, and you cannot ignore the will of the universe. I suggest you sage the apartment and light some jasmine candles immediately.”
“Don’t duck it up,” Beckett warned.
I let out a sardonic laugh. “I guess I’ll see you all next weekend.”