Page 76 of The Marriage Clause

"I've known Everett for fifteen years," he begins. "In that time, I've watched him build an empire, terrify a board of directors, fire people with a two-word email, and once—I'll never let him forget this—was given a coffee with almond milk by accident, and after doing one spit take while on a video call with an overseas investor, drink the entire thing rather than admit defeat."

Colston is laughing so hard he's gripping the edge of the table. Everly has her face in her hands. Even Archer lets out a sound that could generously be classified as amusement.

"It was almond milk," she says weakly.

"You were trying to poison me," I tease her and the room laughs.

The crowd laughs, though they don’t know the entire story.

"I’ve also watched him be alone. Not lonely… Everett doesn’t do lonely. He fills the space where a personal life should be with strategy meetings and acquisition targets and workouts that would hospitalize most humans."

The laughter fades. People are listening differently now.

"So when he called me to tell me that he was getting married, I did what any best friend would do." He pauses. "I asked if he was being blackmailed."

Laughter again, harder this time.

"He said no. Then he said her name. And how he said it—" Damien stops. Looks at me and then looks at Aria. "I'd never heard him say anyone's name like that. I knew it meant that this was different. That for once, my best friend found someone who wouldn’t let him be alone anymore."

The tent is silent.

"To Mr. and Mrs. Kauffman." Damien raises his glass. "May you have a wonderful life, and for the prenup to be ever in her favor."

The room erupts again with laughter and then everyone drinks.

Across the table, Everly is staring at Damien with an expression of furious admiration—the face of a woman who wanted to hate the speech and can't.

He catches her looking and winks.

She turns away so fast her earring swings.

I made a mental note to remind Damien that my sister is out of his league and off limits.

Henry is seated near the center of the table—the seat Everly chose for him last night. He's talking to a woman I don't recognize about something that has her laughing hard enough to spill her wine.

This is what Aria needed today and since she’s leaving a lot of her life to hold up her end of our deal, she deserved at least this.

Her father. Having the night of his life.

I did one thing right today.

The live band for the ceremony and cocktail hour switches out to the DJ with Zayne being the first to give a request and suddenly the dance floor is full. Not with the dignified sway of a billionaire wedding, but actual movement. The kind of chaos that only happens when the wine has been flowing for three hours and Levi has taken over the music lineup.

I don't dance, and Aria doesn’t seem to mind that I haven’t asked. We sit together at the head table, watching the room unravel.

"Your family is pretty fun for a bunch of "stuck up billionaires," she says, with her fingers making quotation marks in the air.

"Is that what the press calls us?"

"It’s a compliment," she teases.

"Yeah… sure… sounds like it," I say. "The press thinks all of us are stuck up?"

"Well… half of you." Her eyes roam around the ballroom as if to find each one on the dance floor, "Zayne, Christian and Levi seem to be left out of that list. Everly can be too. It just depends on the year. If she’s done a charity auction for rescue animals or she’s photographed on a multi-million dollar yacht.

"They’re beloved among the town folk. Is that what you’re saying? Which means that Wes, Archer, Colston and I are the black sheep?"

"Sort of," she shrugs."But you could change that with a little PR."