Page 11 of Auctioned To Be Mine

“Block her,” Drew said.

I shook my head. “Not yet. I’m not trying to piss dad off.”

Hollis shook his head. “You know she’s going to tell people you ghosted her.”

“Let her. I’d rather be known as the guy who ghosts than deal with her.”

Cleo was quiet for a moment, stirring her coffee. Then she looked up at me and was all business. The jokes about my dating life were over. Good.

“Speaking of commitments,” she said slowly. “How are things going with the Blackwell store?”

“Pretty good, actually,” I said.

Our uncle, Buck Blackwell, had built Blackwell Couture from the ground up. He’d turned it into one of the most recognizable names in fashion. When he passed, his sons took over and they’d done an incredible job expanding the brand. They started creating sublabels to bring on new talent, and they had gotten into the wedding business with me, Cleo, and our friend Mandy, who was now a Blackwell herself.

Our luxury wedding line offered high-end everything. Dresses, tuxes, accessories, themes, flowers. The works. We would even plan and host the whole thing, although the price tag for that was astronomical.

It was a great business venture, and it was already making everyone a lot of money. But now that Blackwell Couture had so many different options for people to buy, they had decided it was finally time to open up their first physical store. They would sell clothing and accessories, along with select items from our wedding line.

Our cousins had considered opening the first store in New York, where they were all based, but ultimately, they had chosen a gorgeous space in Beverly Hills, nestled between all the other luxury brands where it belonged. The decision had been made before all the New York Blackwells had gotten married and started families. Nowadays, flying back and forth across the country several times a week wasn’t sustainable for any of them.

That’s where I came in.

Since I already worked with the New York cousins and I lived close to the new store, they had asked me to oversee the project. Construction crews had gutted the old space. In its place, they had built something worthy of the Blackwell Couture name and legacy.

“The store opening is in a month,” Cleo said. “I need you focused, Callum.”

I frowned. “I am focused.”

“You’re hiding in bathrooms waiting for Drew to commit felonies.”

“Alleged felonies,” Drew interjected.

“That had nothing to do with the store,” I said.

Cleo looked at me. “I’m serious. This is huge for us. For the family. Uncle Buck would have been so proud to see this happen, and you’re almost at the finish line. Don’t screw up now.”

I felt the weight of that. Uncle Buck had been more than just an uncle. He’d been a mentor, a friend, someone who’d believed in all of us even when we were just kids with big dreams and no idea how to achieve them. The fact that we were opening this store, expanding his legacy, meant everything. I didn’t want to let my cousins down.

“I’m all in,” I said. “I promise. No more distractions.”

“No more arranged dates?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“God, I hope not. I’m going to have a conversation with Mom and Dad. Make it clear that I’m done being their personal matchmaking project.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “If anything, you need to be lecturing them to leave me alone while I land this project.”

“I think Dad is a little jealous you’re working for his brother’s company instead of his,” my brother Hollis said.

“I like watching movies but I have no interest in making them,” I said.

Cleo nodded. “Dad’s movie studio is great, but who wants to work for their father?”

“Exactly,” Drew said.

“You think he’s trying to sabotage me?” I asked Hollis.

His tanned face took on a thoughtful expression. “Not consciously, but the timing is certainly bad.”

At twenty-seven, he was three years younger than me, and he spent most of his time surfing and trying to perfect his recipe for green shakes. He swore once he got it right, people would be lining up to buy it and the world would be a healthier place.