No Weddings (No Weddings #1)(4)

Tradition. The element ran thick as blood in a family whose tree hailed from such things. Old money mixed with new throughout our family’s history of business endeavors and worthy philanthropic causes. And our generation was no exception.

Bottles brandished from their outstretched arms, like we’d done as kids with wooden swords to defend tree houses. All for one and one for all.

I raised my bottle, ready to capitulate.

“I fourth it…with conditions.”

Their arms sagged without our common celebratory shout. Kristen eased into her corner of the couch, but remained upright, watching me, waiting.

Luckily, I was in my last year at Wharton. Business wasn’t just the focus of my master’s, it was my passion. I lived, ate, and breathed all things related to making money.

I glanced at them, one at a time. “We are not taking all comers. We do have pride, after all. This isn’t about money on the front end. We establish a reputation for only holding events that meet our standards.”

“How do we develop standards?” Kiki swished her half-empty bottle, staring into the beer vortex behind the glass as it spun.

“Well, I don’t know about you girls, but I have a few rules. Like no kids’ parties.”

Kendall shot upright, thrusting her beer-bottle sword into the air. “I second that!”

Kiki stared at me with narrowed eyes from across the room, sitting uncomfortably in the wingback chair I’d relegated her to. “No parties given by anyone you’ve had sex with.”

I shot my bottle up also. “Fuck, I second that.” I didn’t need to be bossed around by some scorned client on a tear because I hadn’t called her back.

Our reserved Kristen added to the list of rules, raising her bottle. “No balloon animals.”

“We already said no kids’ parties,” Kendall replied.

“Oh, no. I’m laying down the law. No balloon animals. Even at an adult party. They freak me out.” Kristen shivered while a vibrating “ehhh” came from her.

We busted up, laughing.

“No clowns.” Kendall’s morbid tone made us choke back our laughter, only to set it free again.

When our amusement faded, we sipped from our beers, each lost in thought.

Kristen set her bottle down on the corner of the table. “We need a name.”

“Easy. ‘The Party Posse.’” My snarky remark earned me groans and a pillow launched at my head, which I expertly deflected with an arcing forearm, not spilling a drop of beer; then a crumpled cupcake wrapper landed on my chest with a soft thud. “Hmmm.” I picked up the chocolate cake crumbs with a licked index finger and stuck them on my tongue.

Other names were tossed around, but nothing stood out.

I sighed. “We need something different. Unforgettable.”

Kiki, ever the creative one, sat taller. “What about inspiration from wedding invitations?” Her eyes lit with excitement. “They always begin with ‘You’ve been cordially invited…’, and Cade, you said we need to be selective. What about ‘By Invitation Only?’”

We fell silent, mulling over the suggestion, which was more than we’d done for any other contender. We were cautious because we all knew the stakes; once a decision had been made by us, it stuck.

One by one, their gazes turned toward me. I nodded slowly, repeating the three words in my mind. “I like it, but it seems off. Doesn’t roll off the tongue. What about shortening it? ‘Invitation Only.’”

“I love it!” Kiki squealed out.

“Invitation Only!” we shouted simultaneously, creating our new business name.

“Oh, that reminds me. I have one more rule.” I sat up from my comatose position on the couch.

Kristen exerted her status as eldest. “You don’t get another rule. We each had one.”

I shook my head. “This rule is nonnegotiable. You want me in this? I won’t budge on one important stipulation.”

They looked at one another, considering the idea of giving me an additional condition.

I set my jaw, holding fast. No way in hell would I bend on this point.

“Fine, what is it?” Kristen cast me a put-out expression that matched her tone.

“Do you agree to it?” I crossed my arms, drawing a battle line.

“You want us to agree without knowing what it is?” Kendall chimed in.

“It’s a deal breaker. Does it matter what it is?”

One by one they all looked to Kristen, giving slight nods.

Kristen slid a cautious glance toward me. “Fine. We all agree to your mysterious rule. Please tell us, dear brother, what have we agreed to?”

“No weddings.”

Raised brows and nods followed. They knew on the surface that weddings with me around spelled disaster. What they didn’t know was how deep the damage went.

They moved on from my condition as if it was a nonissue and went into earsplitting screeching from their excitement about the new business. In fact, the drunker they got, the more they warmed to my last rule, citing legendary wedding stories, including my coup at Kristen’s wedding.

“But you did her right before the wedding!” Kristen wailed into her beer, still lamenting the fact.

I shrugged. “You’re the one who put those sexy friends of yours in f*ck-me heels.”