Page 2 of Just A Little Magic

“Will you consider my opinion if I just say veto?”

“No.”

“Deal.”

Quill was special to me. Realistically, I should’ve backed away from so much input with the day-to-day operation since we had a perfectly capable manager, but like my dad with the company, I couldn’t let go of her. She was white-table fine dining with a fantastic view of the city and harbor lights at night. This building was the first I acquired when I joined the business fresh out of college. Owen was the designer. He’d graduated with a degree in design, and our previous in-house designer had decided they were ready for retirement. The timing couldn’t have worked out better.

My dad was hesitant to allow him free rein but acquiesced when Ginny, our almost-retired person, agreed to be his assistant instead of him assisting her. He’d interned under Ginny with the firm during the summer and his last year of college. He was obsessed with his first real job, and he killed it.

Absolutely fucking killed it.

He’d blended white tablecloths, urban renewal, and the Pacific Northwest chill into the space. The rounded tables were lighted and had high backs for maximum privacy. The quiet enclosed booths were reminiscent of Irish cozies. The privacyaspect was important since there was a significant crossover between the restaurant and Wilde Dandies, the private kink club next door. The club wasn’t part of the family holdings, as Dad said that was too racy for a commercial firm, but I happily paid the family company to manage it for me.

“Bear, what’s your dad wanting to talk to you about?” Owen asked from the passenger seat. His seat warmer was on, which was insane because it wasn’t even cold yet, but it was the first thing he turned on in any car. I sweated at the thought. “It can’t just be the lodge.”

“Why do you know me so well?”

“Because I’ve seen all your dirty laundry,” Owen said with a laugh.

“Dad wouldn’t tell me. He would only say it was vital we have a discussion, and it has to be in person. I’d guess he wants to buy something instead of the lodge, but who knows. He’s been kind of strange lately, anyway. I talked to my mom last week, and she said he was acting off with her too.”

“Oh, how is she?” Owen asked. The mention of my mom always perked Owen up. They adored each other, like falling over themselves like puppies playing when they saw each other level of adoration. Most people saw her as the slightly icy, straight-laced lady she presented to the world. With Owen, she was the doting mama-slash-auntie who overnighted him a chocolate cake because she knew it was his favorite.

“She’s in Mexico City. She told Dad it was an art sourcing trip for the Seattle gallery, but there’s a painter there giving her private showings.”

“Oh God. I don’t want to think about your mom getting lucky.”

“You think I wanted to hear about it? I told her I wasn’t old enough for any of that shit, but she told me it was time to learn where babies came from.” Owen howled from the passengerseat at the disgusted look on my face. “Okay, buddy, I’m gonna call her back, and you can talk all about it with her.”

“Ew! No, no, no. You win.” Owen kept snickering, but I didn’t mind being the source. His laughter was always such a happy but infrequent sound. Owen was naturally serious and not really prone to fits of giggles. I’d take them when I could get them.

We pulled up to the valet stand, and I popped out to grab Owen’s door myself. I gratefully handed my keys to the valet, and we made our way inside. The hostess said my dad was already waiting for us at the private family table in the back. I placed my hand on the small of Owen’s back to guide him to the table. I was rewarded with the smallest hint of a shiver. Dad was typing furiously on his phone and didn’t look up until after I’d pulled out Owen’s chair and settled him in his seat.

“Dad, how are you tonight?” My dad was a young sixty-five, but his age was beginning to show in the deepening lines of his face. He looked up at my voice and was startled when he saw Owen seated at the table.

“Barrett, thank you for joining me this evening.” He turned his gaze to Owen and said, “Owen, didn’t expect to see you here.”

I saw red. “Dad, Owen is here because I asked him to be here.”

“Err, Owen, I apologize.” Dad sighed. “But I really wasn’t expecting you. I had a private matter to speak with Barrett about.”

Owen, his voice tinged with embarrassment, tentatively offered, “Apology accepted, but I could go wait in the bar until you’re done.” Owen had already scooted his chair out before I placed my hand on his shoulder to keep him in place.

“Dad, he’ll hear about whatever you have to tell me the minute you leave anyway. Just say what you need to say.”

I hadn’t taken my hand off Owen. His warm skin was like a balm. Whatever my dad was about to tell me was going to piss me off. I always felt more centered and calm when Owen was in my orbit. If I was about to get mad, I needed him. I knew this wasn’t about Dad’s health. He’d never do that publicly. I’d bet the check this was about how I was running the company.

“I think you should get married.”

“Uh, to whom? I’m not dating anyone.” Owen looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, and I was ready to join him. “And you need to be dating before you marry. It’s a standard custom.”

Owen’s widened eyes mirrored my own. I mouthedwhat the fuckto him, but he only shrugged and gave a slight shake of his head. My attention returned to Dad, who had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Your mom warned me this was going to be awkward.” Dad sighed. “But it’s time. People like to do business with family men.”

“Dad, I can’t imagine anyone giving a shit whether I’m married or not.” Thankfully, we were interrupted by the server bringing us water and the appetizer my dad had already requested. I didn’t mind airing dirty laundry in front of Owen, but I drew the line at the staff.

“Barrett, I would feel better about giving you the company if I knew you were in a stable relationship. I know Owen—please don’t take offense—is your best friend. Unless you are going to marry him, you need to venture out and find someone.”

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