“Your mother gave me a promotion and a big, new office because of my fake relationship status.” I rub my free hand over the aching spot on my neck and wait for my brother, Dylan, to say something.

“She’s only my mother when you have something to complain about. Hang on, I should probably get you off speakerphone.”

“I’m on speaker? Who’s all there?”

“No one. Just the guys. Say hi, guys.”

I recognize Jace, Jackson, Caleb, and Foster’s voices from the baritone chorus of hellos.

“Hey, you slackers,” I reply. “Get me off speaker and talk to me, Dylan. What should I make of this… I don’t know what to call it. A reward, I guess. You know, she insisted that I earned a larger office and the title of Associate, that it was on merit.”

“Congrats! What, you don’t believe her?”

“Would you?”

“Try to enjoy it, little sis.”

I look around the bright, spacious room. Gosh, I love natural light instead of fluorescent eyesores casting the shadow of my head over everything that I work on. There’s a lot of potential with all the extra wall space. Plans start to form at the back of my mind. Maybe a few framed pictures. A couple of plants. “Yes. You’re probably right.”

“But like I told you before you started working for her, there’s a reason I chose to stay the hell away from practicing law.”

I groan. Maybe I should have stayed away too. I did, for as long as I could, but still ended up applying to law school and falling in love with the challenge of being a lawyer. Grams would probably say it’s in my blood.

“Before I forget, Mom wanted me to tell you to watch out for the media. Emily too. Maybe even at Knights Capital.”

“Too late. The sons of bitches were here this morning.”

“At the office?”

“Yeah. Outside.”

“What did they ask you?”

“I wasn’t paying attention. Something about what I think about you dating the Irish mob.”

“What did you say?”

“I told them to fuck off, what else?”

I smile. This is why I love my brother. “Speaking of… how come you never told me you hired Liam's company to do work over at Knights Capital?”

“Are you sure you want to ask me such a loaded question? Because I can turn around and ask you why it is you’ve secretly been fraternizing with him.”

“And by fraternizing, he means fucking,” Caleb clucks. Grunts and muffled laughter follow his comment. “What did they name you two? VanAm? LiVan? I think VanLi has a nice ring to it. Rolls off the tongue, like KimYe. Wait until they start making those computer-generated baby pics. A lock of ginger hair, pink cheeks, cute lips. Or blonde hair and freckles. I’m at the edge of my seat to see what they come up with.”

“It’s clear to me that you have way too much time on your hands, Caleb. And Dylan, I asked you to take me off the fucking speakerphone, you little shit.”

“Come on. We’re all friends here.” That sounded like Foster, but it’s hard to tell who’s talking over the goddamned peals of laughter.

“My situation’s not funny, y’all. Cut it out.”

“Is this dating the mob thing real?” Caleb asks.

“None of your damn business. But as Dylan won’t pick up the phone, Jackson can you please tell me how it is that you decided to invite Liam to your wedding? I didn’t realize you two were close.”

“He’s a friend. But if I knew you two were a thing, I would’ve asked Dahlia to change a few details with the wedding planner. Mainly to relocate your man closer to the head table, and cut both of your plus-ones from the guest list. But don’t worry, now that I know, I'm on it. You’re cool with that?”

“Of course, she’s cool.”

“Shut it, Caleb,” I half-shout into the phone. “Or Dahlia can do the same thing for you and Rosa.” That shuts him up fast. “Anyway Dylan, when you and your boys stop dicking around, give me a call. It's about Emily.”

My brother picks up the handset at record speed, finally turning off the speakerphone. “What's going on?”

I don’t have anything to talk to him about Emily, but he’s my brother. I have to yank his chain from time to time. “Ahhh. Now you want privacy.”

“Tell me.”

“Let’s talk in person.”

“What did she say to you?” His voice is insistent, almost desperate.

“Nothing, idiot. Next time, turn off the goddamned speakerphone when I ask you to.”

After I hang up on Dylan and his band of brothers, a bunch of text messages all come in at once. Checking the screen, I see they’re all from one person.

I lock my phone screen and shove it in the top desk drawer. Liam can wait. I haven’t done a bit of work since I got here this morning. Time to earn this promotion. Who knows how long it’ll last.