Page 17 of The Re-Proposal

My phone rings.

I answer while getting into the elevator. “Clay.”

“Just checking that you haven’t forgotten today,” my brother blurts.

I grin at his tone. Clay’s got a naturally gruff persona, and it’s been hardened from years in the military. He’s starting to soften up thanks to his girlfriend, but he still comes off as abrasive whenever he opens his mouth.

We have that in common, although I tend to only have that effect on people in business.

“Of course I haven’t forgotten. Do you think I’d skip my nephew’s commercial debut?”

“Just making sure you don’t forget. Abe’s looking forward to seeing you there.”

“What should I bring for my favorite niece and nephew?”

“Regan? Nothing’s changed in her giraffe preferences.”

“How do you feel about a live giraffe?”

“As long as you’re the one scooping giraffe droppings.”

I laugh. “And Abe? What should I get him?”

“Honestly? A pep talk. He’s nervous about how this thing turned out. It’s why Island went to all the trouble of organizing a party. According to her, he needs the support of family and friends.”

The elevators open.

I walk out with a smirk. “And according to you?”

“Even if he sucks, he needs to take it on the chin, but I can’t say that out loud. Island knows how to shoot a gun now.” There’s a note of fondness in my brother’s voice that I haven’t heard since Anya’s passing.

I’m glad he found a woman crazy enough to put up with him. Island is good for Clay. And it doesn’t hurt that she’s in love with Regan and Abe too.

I end the call and nod when my driver opens the door of my town car. Vargas slips in next to me.

“You’re going to be busy this evening?”

“Family first.”

“Someone’s getting soft in his old age.”

I snort because the comment is ridiculous on all fronts.

Vargas eyes me seriously as the car moves off. “Why didn’t you have him arrested on the spot?”

“Who? Winifred?”

“He stole from the company. A significant amount too. It’s not like you to save a card that powerful.”

“I’m allowing him to get his house in order before he goes to jail.” I slip a hand into my pocket and touch the heel again. “Aren’t you the one who told me to use a softer approach?”

“Since when do you take my advice?”

I smirk.

Vargas shifts in his seat. “That heel you found on the floor… why’s it so significant?”

I move my eyes from him to the window.

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