Page 73 of Dial F for Finance

His smile is all teeth. “No promises.”

“I’ll have them delivered for you tomorrow.”

He holds his hand out to me. “Deal.”

We shake on it and I turn and wave Jenna over. There isn’t a lot in this world that makes me nervous, but waiting to see how people treat my big brother is one of them.

Jenna hands the sticky toddler back to Mateo, tries to wipe her hands discreetly against her pants, then crosses the room toward us.

“Dusty, this is Jenna,” I say when she reaches us.

He looks her up and down. Takes his time. Nothing in this house ever goes quiet, but I catch my mother going still in the kitchen doorway, dish towel over her shoulder.

“So you’re the one,” Dustin says.

“I’m afraid so.”

“Nicky said you were tall. He didn’t let me know you were hot. That’s a joke, by the way. I have a girlfriend. She’s like me, but she’s deaf and reads lips. You can’t fall in love with me. Nicky is your only option.”

“I appreciate the full disclosure,” Jenna says, deadpan. Then she looks at the bowtie. “Mint green is a bold choice. Most men can’t carry it.”

Dustin touches the knot like she’s just confirmed something he’s suspected his entire life. “I know,” he says gravely. “I look incredible.”

“You do.”

“I need to remind you that I’m taken,” he says. “Hannah is very possessive.”

“I understand.”

“She gets it,” he announces to the room. Then, to me: “I like her. We’re keeping her even after you mess it up, which you will, because you’re you.”

He hugs her. Dustin hugs the way my mother hugs—total commitment, no exit strategy—and over his shoulder I catch Jenna’s face going startled, then soft, one full unguarded second before the locks re-engage.

“What’s your name again?” he asks, letting go.

“Jenna.”

“Jenny.”

“Absolutely not,” she says, in the voice that has made CFOs update their resumes.

“Jenny,” he repeats, delighted, and I stand there watching my wife lose a negotiation she isn’t even trying to win. Her mouth twitches. The armor holds, but the fist clenched around it loosens.

“Only you,” she says, warning and surrender in the same breath.

“OK, Jenny.” He wanders off.

Jenna grins and looks at me. “Are all of the Cruz men born bold?”

“Nah,” I say, lowering my voice. “Dustin is an outlier. Superior genetics.”

“Because of the bowtie?”

“Because of everything.” I watch him migrate to the snack table. “You’ll like him. But be careful—he’s running the long game.”

Jenna tilts her head. “What long game?”

“The one where he charms you, learns all your secrets, and extorts you with the information at a later date.”