Never Marry Your Brother's Best Friend (Never Say Never, #1)

“I don’t like extortion, but if that’s the game you want to play?” Elena looks over her shoulder, double-checking whether Claire truly wants to go down this road. Claire shrugs, unbothered by the accusation. Elena inhales deeply, pinning Claire with a curious look. “I see. Well, very well, then. Remember, it was your choice to play hardball. I will continue to see Jacob . . . if you’d like to continue receiving an allowance. At all.”


“What?” Claire exclaims. “You can’t do that!” She fists her hands at her sides, angry, but I don’t think she’d actually get physical with Elena. Her M.O. doesn’t seem to be bold confrontation, given she’s been lurking in the shadows of Thomas and Elena’s dealings for years.

“I certainly can. It’s still my signature on all the financial dealings. Guess I’ve still got some wits about me, don’t I?” Elena says. It’s a gloat, but she truly seems pretty sad and disheartened by this whole conversation.

Claire seems to have lost her steam because she clamps her mouth shut, glares hellfire and damnation at Elena, and then walks toward the door. As she passes Carter, she sneers at him, “This is all your fault.”

Carter flashes his cocky grin, the one that made me hate him for so long, and Claire growls as she stomps out. A few seconds later, the front door slams.

Changing directions, Elena shakes her head woodenly but meets Stanley’s eyes. “You, dear friend, have nothing to worry about. You’ve given your life to this family, and we will take care of you for the rest of yours. I would never subject you to that.” Elena jerks her head toward the door where Claire disappears. “When you’re ready to retire, my friend, just say the word.”

“Thank heavens,” Stanley says with obvious relief, wiping at his eyes. “Elena, I’m sorry. That woman has been killing me. Tell me this, do that. What she said made sense, and though I’m loyal to you, I didn’t want to be isolated from your family.”

Elena walks to Stanley, who stands. “You are my family. Me and Thomas always felt that way, and I’m sorry if we didn’t let you know that sooner.”

She embraces Stanley, who stays still for a moment before wrapping his arms around her too. A quick second later, he pulls back. “Ma’am.” He dips his chin once, deferentially. “Should I tell Nelda to expect guests for dinner?”

Elena smiles. “Please.”

Stanley escapes, seeming glad to get away from all the drama and shouting, and Elena turns on Carter and me. “First order of business. We need to quadruple-check that every bit of paperwork lists out Claire’s access and allowances. That is . . . if you’d still like to work for the Cartwright estate after all that?”

Carter holds his hand out. “It would be my honor.”

“Good. I thought maybe that’d scare you off and I’d spend dinner with your daddy telling him that I’m snatching you from his good graces.”

Carter chuckles. “No, I’m with you. But fair warning, Dad’s probably going to make your little tiff with Claire look like child’s play.”





CHAPTER

THIRTY-ONE





CARTER





“All right, we’re here. And you are not supposed to be, so what the hell is going on?” Dad growls under his breath as he and Mom come in the door. He manages to look both furious and disappointed at the same time. Mom places a calming hand on his arm, and judging by the tension around her eyes, the drive to Elena’s wasn’t pleasant.

“Good to see you too, Dad.”

I’m lying through my teeth again, something I swore to not do. Which is why I’m glad Dad’s here. I’m ready to move forward with Elena, but the process to get there is going to be painful at best. It’ll be tough love honesty for both of us.

Dad looks past me and sees Luna and Elena, who’ve been chatting about the various art pieces in the front room. I think Luna is basically on cloud nine, hearing the detailed stories of how Thomas acquired each and every piece directly from Elena, and Elena is enjoying sharing Thomas’s excitement with someone who wants to hear every detail.

It’s actually been really helpful. After the drama with Claire, I think Elena was wiped out. It’s not every day you have to assume a mantle you may not like and handle things with that much cold, hard strength. But Luna’s light and joy have steadily filled Elena back up, and she’s returning to the whip-smart, funny woman she normally is.

“Carter?” he says in a warning tone.

“Mr. Harrington, it’s so good to see you again.” Elena approaches with her hand outstretched and a smile the belies the drama of today. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

Dad raises a brow, side-eyeing me as they shake. “I wasn’t exactly given a choice.”

“Charles,” Mom says, smiling congenially in an attempt to smooth over Dad’s gruffness. “We’re delighted to come, of course,” she tells Elena. “Good to see you too, Luna.”

Luna steps forward, offering her hand to Mom. “Thank you.”

She returns to my side and gives me an encouraging smile. She knows how worried I am about this conversation with Dad, but also how resolved I am.

“Why don’t we come in here and sit down?” Elena says. “Let’s eat and talk.”

Elena doesn’t wait for agreement, simply walking to the formal dining room. She’s putting on the mantle again, ready to turn it on Charles Harrington if necessary.

The vibe is very different from the kitchen table where Elena usually eats. It’s heavy, formal, as close to regal as we get in America. Following her, we sit around the dark wooden inlay table with Elena at the head, and Nelda appears with a bottle of wine to pour a glass for each of us.

“Ready for salad?” she asks Elena, who nods in answer.

When Nelda disappears back into the kitchen, Dad’s patience runs out. “Not to be rude, but what is going on here?”

Elena chuckles. “No worries at all. I understand my niece, Claire, made a visit to you recently?”

“You could say that,” Dad agrees warily. “Why?”

“Let’s just say she’s a bit of a brat, that one,” Elena grumbles. “Hasn’t met a boundary she didn’t want to cross. And that includes coming to see you. She shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have spoken for me or the estate.”

Dad’s eyes light up. “You mean Blue Lake Assets is still in consideration to manage the Cartwright portfolio?”

Elena looks to me with a warm smile. “Something like that.”

Dad jumps right into selling Blue Lake again—how it started, how it’s grown, how his leadership has led to a broad base of successful partnerships on several fronts. He might as well be tooting a horn that screams his own name, completely ignoring the fact that I’m the one who sought out Elena, got to know her and her portfolio needs, and has been dealing with her this entire time.

Not once during his impromptu presentation does he mention my name. Not through the salad course, and not as Nelda sets down plates with roast chicken and root vegetables.

“Interesting,” Elena says dryly when Dad finishes his one-man show. Thankfully, she’s not impressed at all. She might as well be yawning in boredom.

That’s why this is going to work between us. I don’t want a formal, impersonal relationship with my work. It’s my passion, and I want to do my best, confident that it will be recognized and appreciated.