Page 8 of Power
Blake: I told you at poker night.
Ryker: I thought you were JOKING. You’ve been dating for five seconds.
Blake: We’re in love. And we’ve known each other for years. Stop being so dramatic.
Axel: Marriage? Voluntarily? Did we not vaccinate against this?
Blake: Unlike you, some of us aspire to relationships that last longer than a carton of milk.
Axel: *coffin emoji* *headstone emoji* Here lies Blake’s freedom, dignity, and the last known evidence of his spine.
Ryker: Fine. I guess if I had to pick one person to protect my sister for the rest of her life, you’re … marginally acceptable.
Blake: Your flattery is making me tear up.
Ryker: Though, as her brother, I’m legally obligated to threaten your life at least once before the wedding.
Me: Can we get back to MY question? Can you guys meet?
Ryker: Buried in case files. Starting your own law firm has its downsides. Like explaining to a prospective client that stabbing your neighbor with a fondue fork over a property line dispute isn't self-defense.
Axel: Currently entertaining a woman who thinks NFTs are designer handbags. But she has 3 million Instagram followers, so …
Me: Your dating algorithm remains catastrophically broken.
Me: I need to blow off steam before I commit a felony involving my board of directors.
Axel: Says the workaholic who hasn’t seen sunlight since flip phones were still cool. When’s the last time you did anything fun that didn’t involve a spreadsheet?
Ryker: Why don’t you grab a drink somewhere?
Me: I don’t do bars alone.
Axel: Then enjoy your breakdown.
Me: Fine. If I end up on TMZ, I’m blaming all of you.
Axel: That’s the spirit! And if you see any models there, tell them you’re my much less attractive and far less successful friend.
Me: I’m worth more than the GDP of several countries.
Axel: Yes, but can you touch your toes? No? Sad. *flexing emoji*
Ryker: I’m muting this before I throw my phone into traffic.
Axel: Finally. Now go drink something that costs more than my first apartment and stop bothering us with your human emotions. It’s unsettling.
I shoved the phone into my pocket and ran a hand over my face.
Option 1: I could go home, stay at my penthouse. No. Even outside of this bigger paperwork issue, there could still be other last-minute fires that popped up, and I needed to be close in case they did. I’d seen too many deals fall apart over a weekend. If I was at my penthouse, I’d be at least twenty minutes away from fixing whatever went wrong. Besides, if I went home, I’d spend the entire weekend staring at my phone.
Plus, going home felt like giving up, and I didn’t do that.
The bar’s sign flickered again. Maybe the alcohol would give me some ideas about how to survive the weekend without completely losing my mind.
When I yanked the door open and stormed inside, theuniverse crashed my perfectly molded distraction into my chest. And then a tangle of limbs and blonde hair yelped and fell to the ground.
4
