Chapter 7
CALLUM
Istood in the center of what would soon be the main showroom of Blackwell Couture’s flagship store and watched the crew shine the floors. The white marble elevated the space. It cost a small fortune but the shine from the lights above was stunning.
The space had tall ceilings, with an open second story about half the size of the first floor. The store had enough room to host an entire runway show with a decent amount of guests. And that was by design. My cousins had grand visions for the place once the construction was finally finished.
“Mr. Blackwell?” One of the foremen approached, holding a tablet. “We’ve got a question about the lighting fixtures in the back.”
I followed him to the rear of the store where the fitting rooms would be. The electricians had run into an issue with the placement of the fixtures.
I looked at the plans, then at the ceiling, then back at the plans. “Move them eighteen inches to the left. Both of them. Keep them symmetrical.” I handed the tablet back. “Get it done today if you can. We’re on a tight schedule.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll see what we can do.”
I moved through the space, checking on different areas.
The walls in the wedding section were being painted a soft champagne color that Cleo had spent three weeks selecting.
To me it looked beige, but I quickly learned there were about fifty shades of beige and it had to be perfect.
Everything was coming together exactly as we’d envisioned.
My phone buzzed. I pulled it out and saw a text from Adrian, CEO of Blackwell Couture, eldest brother of the New York Blackwells, and my cousin. How’s it looking?
Me: Like a million bucks. Literally.
Adrian: Good. That’s about what we paid for it.
I smiled and pocketed my phone. A painter flagged me down to confirm the trim color.
A delivery guy needed a signature for the shelves that would display the accessories.
Furniture delivery men were carrying in crushed velvet couches and chairs.
People needed to be comfortable when they were spending thousands of dollars.
That was also why the store would be featuring a side area for coffee and cocktails.
We wanted to provide our patrons with as much pampering as we could.
I handled it all. This was what I was good at.
I loved managing chaos and making decisions while keeping everything moving forward.
I’d been doing it my whole life. Being the oldest in a large family meant there was always chaos somewhere.
This was family legacy meeting new opportunity, and I wanted it to be perfect.
I glanced around just in time to see my parents walk in. As always, everything froze for a brief second. My parents always made an entrance whether they were trying to or not. Dad surveyed the space with a critical eye. Mom was smiling as she took it all in.
“Callum!” She threw her arms around me and planted a kiss on my cheek. “Oh my God, this is gorgeous. Look at this place!”
“Hey, Mom.” I hugged her back, breathing in her familiar perfume.
She pulled back and looked around with genuine excitement. “This is incredible. Your uncle would have been so proud.”
Dad had made his way over, hands in his pockets, still taking everything in. “It’s coming along,” he said, which for him was practically gushing praise.
“What about you, Dad? Are you proud of me?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Dad’s eyes met mine. “We’ll see how the opening goes.”
“Max,” Mom said sharply, swatting his arm. “Don’t listen to him, sweetheart. We’re both so proud of you.” She squeezed my hand. “Now show us around. I want to see everything.”
I led them through the different areas, explaining what each section would be.
Blackwell sold mostly dresses but one section was for formal eveningwear while another had more casual looks.
Then there were all the accessories, like purses, belts, and even some jewelry.
I also showed them the wedding area, which would feature things from my company, driving sales and sending potential clients our way.
When we got to the back corner, I gestured to what was currently just an empty space with some framing up. “This is going to be the lounge area. Coffee and cocktails. Adrian and his brothers wanted it to feel like a destination, not just a store. Somewhere people could spend the afternoon.”
Dad frowned. “Cocktails? Around all that expensive fabric?”
“Take it up with Adrian,” I said. “He and his brothers had a vision. I’m just here to execute it.”
“Maybe I’ll call him,” Dad muttered.
“Max, leave them alone,” Mom said. She was running her hand along one of the walls, admiring the craftsmanship. “This is beautiful work. Really beautiful.”
“It’s getting there,” I said. “We’re on schedule, which is a miracle considering how many moving pieces there are.”
“That’s because you’re running it,” Mom said with absolute confidence.
“You’re good at this, baby. Always have been.
The Blackwells have a lot of creative types in the family, but you’ve also got a knack for keeping things in order.
Just like your father, even though neither of you want to admit it. ”
I appreciated her faith in me, even if Dad’s was more conditional. That was just how he was. He believed in results, not potential. You proved yourself or you didn’t. There was no in-between.
Dad cleared his throat and I just knew what he said next was not going to be good. “We’re not just here for a social visit.”
“Of course not,” I said. “What’s up?”
“I need you to do something for me.”
I waited, already bracing myself.
“There’s a charity auction coming up. The foundation raises money for children’s hospitals. They need a couple of high-profile names to auction off for dinner dates.” He looked at me expectantly. “I volunteered you and Drew.”
“Hell no.”
“Callum—”
“Absolutely not. Do you have any idea what those things are like?” I shook my head. “I went to one of those auctions a few years ago with some friends. Those women were like piranhas. It was a feeding frenzy.”
“It’s for sick kids,” Dad said flatly.
“Then write them a check. A big one. I’ll match it.”
“I already did write them a check.” He crossed his arms. “But they need the star power. The publicity. And before you argue, I already told them yes on your behalf.”
I frowned. “You can’t just agree to something without asking me.”
“I can, and I did.” His expression hardened. “I heard about your little stunt at the restaurant. Hollis mentioned what happened.”
Of course he did. I made a mental note to have words with Hollis later.
“Really, Callum.” Mom tsked. “Someone could have been hurt.”
I didn’t feel it would make a difference if I pointed out I hadn’t actually been the one to pull the alarm.
“You’re an adult, Callum,” Dad said sternly. “Act like it.”
Mom stepped between us, placing a hand on Dad’s chest. “Max, that’s enough.” She turned to me with gentler eyes. “Sweetheart, it’s a good cause. And it’s just one dinner. Maybe you’ll meet someone nice.”
“I’m not looking to meet someone.”
“Well, you should be,” she said softly. “You can’t hide from relationships forever.”
I wasn’t hiding. I was being selective. There was a difference.
“Besides, it’ll be good press right before the store opening,” Dad said. “Show the Blackwells support the community. That we’re not just about business.”
Mom made a disapproving sound and shook her head. “It’s for a good cause, nothing more. Don’t you dare get up on that stage and treat it like an advertisement opportunity.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” I said, shaking my head.
“Your father would,” she said. “But you’re better than that.”
Dad looked like he wanted to argue but wisely kept his mouth shut.
“You and Drew are doing it,” Dad said with finality. “Lauren will send you the details.”
“Great,” I muttered.
Mom kissed my cheek again. “It’ll be fine. And who knows? Maybe it’ll be fun.”
I seriously doubted that.
They left a few minutes later, and I stood in the middle of the showroom feeling like I’d just been railroaded. I pulled out my phone and texted Drew: We need drinks. Now.
Drew: Meet you at Sullivan’s in twenty.
That’s why Drew and I got along so well. No questions asked. Then again, it’s also why we managed to get into trouble. Maybe one of us should ask more questions.
I got to Sullivan’s before Drew did and claimed our usual table in the back corner.
The bartender knew me well enough to have a whiskey delivered by the time I sat down.
I downed half of it before Drew walked in, looking entirely too cheerful for someone who was about to get the same bad news I’d just received.
“What’s got you so twisted up?” he asked, dropping into the chair across from me.
“Dad volunteered us for a charity auction.”
Drew blinked. “What kind of auction?”
“The kind where desperate women bid on dinner dates with us. Said it’s for a good cause.”
He started laughing. “Oh, that’s what this is about? Come on, man. That’s not the end of the world.”
“Have you ever been to one of these things?”
“No, but how bad can it be?”
I stared at him. “These women are paying for the privilege of spending time with us. They tend to get a little handsy.”
“So we manage their expectations and set boundaries.” He signaled the bartender for his own drink. “It’s one dinner. Two hours max. We eat, we make small talk, we take a picture, and we leave. Easy.”
“Nothing about this is easy.”
“You’re worrying for nothing.” His drink arrived and he took a long sip. “What if the winners are super-hot twins?”
He winked, and despite myself, I felt the corner of my mouth twitch. “That’s not going to happen.”
“But what if it did?” He leaned back in his chair, grinning. “Come on. At least try to see the upside here.”
“There is no upside.”
“The upside is that it’s good press before the store opening. Maybe you’ll get lucky and meet someone who isn’t a complete nightmare. And then you’ll get lucky. Wink. Wink.”
I drained the rest of my whiskey and signaled for another. “You’re not actually supposed to say wink wink when I’m sitting across from you. And this will be a nightmare. I can feel it.”
“You’re a pessimist.” He raised his glass. “To charity. And to the very slim possibility that this won’t be a complete disaster.”
I clinked my glass against his, but I didn’t share his optimism.