Never Marry Your Brother's Best Friend (Never Say Never, #1)

“When you said it, I thought of Luna and how I didn’t intend to be married to her in the midst of this big pretend thing. I felt like you were telling me to decide where I wanted to be. But when I really thought about what you said, I realized I had the opposite issue. I ended up exactly where I always thought I’d be, only . . .” I swallow. This is hard to say, even though it’s true, because it’s big. A total redirection of my life. Luna leans into me, her shoulder touching mine in quiet support. But I’m ready, I’ve decided. “I’m not happy with it. I’m not happy with Blue Lake Assets, always feeling like I need to prove myself and coming up short.”


A heavy weight lifts off my shoulders, and I feel like I can breathe for the first time. I’ve known that I would be a part of the Harrington legacy at Blue Lake since I was a boy. It was never a question for me or my family. It wasn’t until I began deep diving into the Cartwright portfolio that I considered doing something else. Being someone else.

“What are you thinking about doing, then? Lemme guess . . . firefighter? Astronaut?”

“No, nothing like that. I love what I do, just not where I do it. I want a more personal connection with the people I work with.”

Bernard snickers. “More personal than family?”

Before I speak it into existence, I search my heart once more for confirmation, but I know this is right. “With my clients. I’d like to be the personal finance manager for the Cartwright estate. Not as a part of Blue Lake Assets but as Carter Harrington. I’ve enjoyed examining what Mr. Oleana has done for you and figuring out ways to improve returns as you move forward. To be honest” —I grin at the intentional word choice— “your estate is large enough to warrant full-time, hands-on service, and I’d be honored to provide that.”

I’m putting all my cards on the table, not holding back a thing, and hoping that Elena can respect that. Hell, I think I respect myself more than ever before, and that’s got to count for something.

“Interesting,” Elena hums. “You and me, directing everything the way you were talking about with Pat?” She doesn’t seem to be asking me but rather repeating my proposal. “You think we could?”

“Absolutely.” I’m one hundred percent sure of that. “We’ll have to talk to Claire, though. Stanley told us that Claire is ‘taking some things over’ because your judgment is ‘questionable’?”

“She said what?” Elena screeches, jumping down from her stool. “She’s family, but I’m gonna tan that girl’s hide. I’ve still got my wits about me. No doubt about that.”

Elena seems to be determined to hunt Claire down right this minute, but a car engine growls outside and we run to the door to see what’s wrong. It’s Claire, speeding down the long driveway and then braking so hard the car jerks. The car’s barely shut off when she jumps out, speed walking for the front door.

“Claire Luanne Reynolds, get your ass over here,” Elena bellows in a voice that seems about twenty decibels too loud for a woman her size and age.

Luna whispers. “Ooh, her whole government name. She’s in deep.”

Claire doesn’t hear Luna, but she damn sure hears Elena’s order, and she whirls, the fire in her eyes hitting Elena and then spreading to me and Luna. Bernard seems to be the only one saved from her dirty look. “What are you doing here? I told you to stay away from Aunt Elena.”

She’s talking to me, and I’m quite willing to handle my own fights, but Elena puts a hand on her hip and starts dramatically waving the other one around. “I know you heard me. Get over here. I got some talking to do, and you got some listening to do, missy.” Elena doesn’t wait for Claire to get closer but rather bulldozes straight into it. “Are you seriously going around telling folks that I’m losing my mind? I’m sharp as a tack and more than willing to put one in your behind if I need to remind you of just how sharp I am.”

Claire gives it right back, shouting in return. “Seriously? You must be losing your mind if you’re talking to these bozos.” She points at me, thankfully, because if her manicured finger had gotten anywhere near to Luna, I don’t think I could stop myself from protecting her.

“I prefer Chief Clown Officer, if you don’t mind, or CCO for short,” I deadpan, which only incites Claire further. “It’s a board-level position.”

“Shut up,” Claire snarls, like she can snap orders at me. To Elena, she says, “You can’t work with Blue Lake Assets. I already told Mr. Harrington that any further contact by his office would be referred to our lawyer. Seems like I need to give him a call.”

Her threat should worry me, and maybe later it will, but right now, I’m too caught up in the moment and blurt out, “Guess it’s a good thing I’m not asking Elena to work with Blue Lake then, isn’t it?”

That draws her up short. “What?”

Elena fills her in on my proposal, and Claire’s anger grows exponentially with every word. “So you think you can waltz in here and take everything my aunt’s earned.”

I shake my head, incredulous that she’d suggest such a thing. “Of course not!” I say dangerously. “But isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? Why are you so worried about what your aunt is doing with her money?”

It’s a question that keeps coming up in my mind. It makes complete sense for Claire to protect her aunt, but she’s not doing that. She’s protecting the money. Also logical, but there’s something that doesn’t sit right about it. “Are you trying to take control of Elena, her money, or both?”

Claire makes a sound that would be worthy of an internet meme for ‘pissed off Karen’ as she crosses her arms. “How dare you? You don’t know anything about me. Like the fact that Mr. Oleana has been showing me how to reconcile the accounts for years.”

“He what?” Elena shrieks.

“It’s what Uncle Thomas wanted,” Claire asserts with smug certainty.

Elena shakes her head vehemently. “Thomas could want in one hand and shit in the other, and see which filled up faster. You were never going to manage the money. It’s a conflict of interest. You get your monthly allowance, same as I do, and leave the money-obsessing to someone qualified to do it.”

Claire stomps her foot like she’s a toddler. “Allowance? Is that what you call the pittance Mr. Oleana gives me? I can’t live on that. Nobody can!”

Luna raises her hand. “I bet most people would be quite grateful to be given an allowance when they didn’t do a thing to earn it besides be born into the right gene pool. Am I right?”

Luna’s asking me, assuming that because my family has money too, I’ll have an opinion on this. I do, but we’re going to have to address her assumptions later because she’s dead wrong. “I haven’t gotten an allowance from my family trust since I was twenty-five and started working. Yes, I have a nest egg. It’s there if I have an emergency, but I don’t depend on it. My parents made sure that we all have a solid work ethic, know the value of a dollar, and that the only one we should spend is the one we earn. Seems like you missed that lesson, Claire.”

“Well, at least I learned not to lie my way through life to get what I want,” she counters harshly.