Page 3 of The Marriage Negotiation

I wasn't sure what to say to that. An ethical mafia boss?

Was that even possible?

I was pretty sure that I knew my frat brothers well enough to know that they wouldn't get involved with bad people. I just wasn't sure where the mafia fell into that.

"I'd better get going," Joe said. "I need to get these papers filed and then catch my flight back to New York. If I'm late for dinner, Jayce will kill me."

"Okay," I said. "Thanks for flying out here and doing this for me."

"Of course," Joe replied. "Anything for a frat brother."

I walked Joe out of the conference room and then to the elevator. After saying goodbye one more time, I waited until the doors closed between us, and then made my way to my office.

I couldn't believe it was finally done. I felt a sense of relief, but also a little trepidation. This was a big step for me. Many would say I was being an idiot for giving up my position, except I had never wanted to be a hospital administrator. I just wanted to be a doctor. It's what I had gone to school for after all.

I sighed as I sat at my desk and stared at the pile of papers I was supposed to go through before the next budget meeting. I don't know why I even bothered. Nothing ever happened in those meetings.

It was just a lot of talk by people that had too much money to spend and no real intention of doing something good with it. They liked to pretend that they were something special because they served on the board of directors of a hospital. In reality, they were bored and did nothing.

Didn't help the hospital one damn bit.

I frowned when my cell phone rang. Glancing down at the screen, that frown became a grimace. I'd rather deal with the board of directors than take this phone call.

Unfortunately, I knew the caller would just keep on calling until I answered.

I swiped my finger across the screen and placed the phone to my ear. "Hello, Peter."

"Hey, bro," my brother replied. "Long time no talk."

"Ten years." I could have easily gone another ten years without talking to him. "How did you get my number?"

I certainly hadn't given it to him.

"Mom gave it to me."

I sighed heavily. I couldn't berate my mother for giving my brother my cell number. I doubted she had done it on purpose. She probably didn't even know Peter had taken it.

"So, what do you want?" I asked. I doubted there was anything Peter could say that I wanted to hear. We hadn't been close as kids and we weren't close now.

"I'm getting married."

"Congratulations."

Still didn't know what that had to me.

"I want you to come to my wedding."

"No," I answered without hesitation.

"Patrick—"

"We haven't seen each other in ten years. Why ruin a good thing?"

"Just come to the wedding," Peter said. "Mom and Dad miss you and want to see you. This would be a great time for a family reunion."

I wanted to disagree specifically for the fact that I was still in contact with my parents. I'd even seen them just a couple of months ago when I'd flown to California for a medical conference.

We just hadn't informed Peter.

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