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Their mouths opened and closed, staring at their brother, who only laughed, shaking his head.
“The school is more successful than ever. We have a waitlist of students. Until we can expand, which Pops is working on right now, we can’t admit any more kids. Gwen’s shop is in need of expansion, and she’s been approached by five major luxury retailers who want to carry her merchandise.”
“No shit,” muttered Ghost.
“No shit,” smirked Jean. “The hair and nail salon is wildly popular. The addition of the spa has made it a true destination for visitors to New Orleans, and Keegan has the same problem as Gwen. She needs to expand. Three hotels in New Orleans are offering her the opportunity to open spas within their hotels. Then we get to our artists. All are selling globally. They’ve been commissioned for specific works, paintings, sculpture, jewelry, all of it.
“Charlie just signed a deal for seven of her books to become movies. She’ll be consulting remotely but has full creative license for the screenplays. The law firm is so busy with our own shit, plus all the pro-bono work they do, that poor Kari and Kat can’t retire.
“Don’t even get me started on the medical team who are completely overwhelmed most days, but don’t say a fucking word. Even with the addition of Adam, we need at least a dozen more personnel.”
“Adam?” frowned Gaspar, looking his way. Adam shrugged.
“Look, I’m the new guy. I wasn’t going to complain about the workload. Besides, working with Riley, Gabi, Lena, Kelsey, Cruz, Doc, Gray, Wilson, and the others, it’s like working with the dream team.”
“But are you overworked?” asked Nine.
“I would say, yes,” nodded Adam. “Even poor Suzette has her head down working on new drugs, helping the surgical teams with pain management options. She’s amazing, by the way.”
“Little sis is something else,” smirked Gaspar.
“They’re all something else,” said Jean. “It’s not just our wives, the wives of the Gray Wolf team. It’s the wives of our VG kids, grandkids, and hell, great-grandkids now. We have more talent in our small corner of the world than probably anywhere else on this planet.”
“So, what are you getting at, Jean?” asked Ian.
“I’m getting at us not worrying so much about the women. They know what they’re doing and how to take care of themselves. I think it hurts them when we act as if they don’t know how to do those things. They’ve spent their lives worrying about us and still managed to run businesses, raise kids, and have successful careers. Maybe it’s time we stop giving them reason to worry about us.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“I just spoke to Jean,” said Ro, taking a seat around the fire pit. The women were all there, relaxing after dinner. Some were seated in chairs, others on logs or blankets. The agents had joined them, Code and Sly close by to lend support if needed.
“Everything okay?” asked Erin with concern. Angel scoffed, and Erin frowned at him. “What’s so funny, pretty-boy?”
“Oh,” he blushed. “Sorry, it’s just you asking if everything is okay. Everything is always okay with them. They, we are professionals.”
“I see,” frowned Erin. “And we’re not?”
“No. I mean, no, I didn’t mean that. I meant we’re trained.”
“So are we,” said Mary, looking up at her husband. “Don’t forget that I’m a former FBI agent.”
“Damn,” muttered Peter. “That’s impressive.”
“Why?” asked Mary. He looked at her, unsure of how to respond. “I mean, would you have said that was impressive if I were my husband?”
“Don’t answer that,” said Bull in a low voice. Lily stared at him, shaking her head.
“You guys will never learn,” she said. “Peter, let me give you some advice. Find a woman who has her own career, her own interests, but allows you to pursue your own even though it terrifies her.” Bull looked at Lily, then at the other women.
“Oh.”
“Oh, what?” scoffed Alexandra. “Is that some sort of shock to you? Did you not think we were at home, terrified every time you guys go out? You all act like you’re invincible, and you’re not. Sooner or later, someone is going to get seriously hurt. It’s already happened. We’ve been fortunate to have, uh, our resources.”
“Did you lose someone?” asked Peter.
“A brother,” said Bull. “He was our brother. Grip was his name. We named the weapons manufacturing site after him because he left his money to the team.”
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know that,” said the younger man.
