Page 2 of The Wrong Brother

I weave through the garden, catching the attention of a few key executives who have gathered in small groups, each one is here tonight for more than the champagne. I stop by one of the circles, and almost immediately, Richard Lawson, one of our lead architects, leans in.

“So, Zack, about the Manhattan project,” he begins, his voice loud to compete with the sound of the live music. “We’re making quite the statement with this one. Have you seen the latest foot traffic numbers? We’re going to be smack in the middle of it all. Tourists, locals…they will have the Jackson name in front of them daily.”

“Exactly the plan,” I say, nodding. “We’re not just adding another high-rise. We’re creating something that draws people in. Floor-to-ceiling glass, strategic lighting that highlights every inch. This building won’t blend in. It’ll stand out, even in the middle of Manhattan.”

Lawson’s eyes light up, clearly energized by the vision. “We’ve run simulations on it already. It’s going to be one of the most noticeable structures on the skyline…right up there with the best of them.”

Andrew Barron, another executive, chimes in. “And it’s not just the aesthetics. With a space like this, we’re also setting the standard for high-end office rentals in the city. Companies are already reaching out about securing floors. We’re creating a brand in itself.”

“Which is why we’re carefully curating the tenants,” I reply, my tone sharpening slightly. “We need long-term contracts, names that add prestige. We’re Jacksons…this isn’t a revolving door for anyone who can pay the rent.”

Just then, the mayor strides over, extending his hand.

“Zack,” he says, shaking my hand firmly. “I hear your new project is going to change the face of Manhattan.”

“That’s the goal,” I respond, meeting his gaze. “But we could use a little cooperation with zoning.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly expecting this part of the conversation. “You know how it is…city council likes to see benefits for the community.”

“Of course,” I reply smoothly. “To that end we’re building green spaces on the lower levels. A terrace accessible to the public, featuring local art facilities. We’re not just putting up a building. We’re creating an experience for the city.”

He nods, pleased. “And air rights? How are you managing that?”

“We’ve already bought additional air rights from the surrounding lots,” I say. “And as a show of goodwill, we’re allocating a portion of the budget to refurbish the nearby subway entrance. It’ll be safer and more modern.”

Lawson jumps in, enthusiastic. “And by the way, we’re aiming for a LEED Platinum certification. Eco-friendly design all the way. This building will be a model for sustainable urban development.”

The mayor’s interest piques. “The council will like that. It’s good press for everyone involved, myself included.”

I nod, knowing that’s exactly the response we need from him. “We’re hoping to submit final plans soon. I’d like to keep this moving on schedule, if possible.”

The mayor’s gaze is steady, calculating. “I’ll make sure your plans get a proper review. And Zack—don’t hesitate to call if you need anything expedited.”

“Much appreciated,” I reply, smiling broadly.

At that moment there’s a sound of something crashing through the leaves and a sudden thud from somewhere beyond the garden. A few heads turn, confused, but no one knows what to make of it. No one’s expecting someone to fall out of a tree at an event like this. I glance over, catching a flash of auburn hair through the shadows and shake my head.

It’s her…Jenny, the chauffeur’s daughter. I’ve caught her sneaking around like this before, hiding in places she shouldn’t be.

It’s only a brief disturbance, barely noticed by most. I move toward Brett, catching him just as he reaches for another glass of champagne. Without a word, I pull him aside to the champagne bar, handing him a fresh bottle.

“How nice of you Mr,..” he kids as usual.

“Maybe it’s time to keep your admirers in line, or take them somewhere out of sight,” I tell him, keeping my tone even. “This is still a business event, not a dating circuit.”

He glances at me, unfazed. “What’s the harm? Which one are you worried about…one or both?” he jokes, nodding to two women nearby, their eyes following his every move.

“The tall brunette is Harrington’s daughter…major construction investor. The redhead? Millie Devereaux. Senator Devereaux’s kid. So, you might want to consider carefully.”

Brett raises an eyebrow, then smirks. “Harrington and Devereaux. Quite the pair.” He pauses, considering. “Why not both?”

I roll my eyes, pushing the champagne bottle into his hands. “Whatever you do, make sure it’s discreet. This is a serious event. Dad’s going to notice sooner or later, and then you’ll be hearing about it for months. He’ll probably ban you from next year’s ball too.”

Brett frowns, though there’s a playful glint in his eye as he accepts the bottle. “Fine, whatever keeps the peace,” he says, rubbing my arm and giving a mock toast.

“Oh, and one more thing,” I add. “Check on that girl…the chauffeur’s daughter, Jenny. She just fell from a tree. Again.”

“Again?” Brett’s expression shifts, a flicker of concern mixed with surprise. Then he shakes his head, a faint, fond smile on his face. “She’ll never stop climbing into trees and falling out of them. Sometimes I tell people I grew up with two brothers instead of just you. He turns around to look towards the trees and turns back to grin at me. “No worries there. Her father’sgot her. I on the other hand have two beautiful women to get to know a bit better if you know what I mean.”

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