Chapter 11: Between Brothers

After forcing down two store-bought quiches, Bianca hurried to catch the subway, still tasting the rubbery crust of Imelda's idea of breakfast. Her destination was Schuyler Enterprises.

Today, however, it wasn't Ken she was meeting—it was Robert.

The building's cool air-conditioning greeted her as she entered, a welcome relief from the sticky warmth outside. After navigating the labyrinth of elevators and hallways, she finally arrived at Robert's office.

"Bianca, delightful to see you again!" Robert greeted her warmly, flashing a charismatic smile that seemed to come with his tailored three-piece suit—a charcoal ensemble with a subtle pinstripe, paired with a tie so perfectly knotted it almost seemed unfair. His polished brown leather shoes gleamed, hinting at meticulousness beneath his easygoing demeanor.

"Hey, Robert. It's good to see you too," Bianca replied with a grin, smoothing the soft fabric of her floral midi-dress. It was simple but elegant, chosen to strike a balance between professional and casual. "If we're gonna plan this fancy party, we might as well have some fun while we're at it."

Robert chuckled. "You took the words right out of my mouth. Usually, I'm stuck doing all the party planning solo. Drowning in caterers, decorations, and Imelda's endless demands. At least this time, we can drown together."

Bianca laughed. "Wow, you're really not selling this, are you?"

"Come on," he teased, gesturing for her to follow him. "I thought we were being honest. Let's get our hands dirty."

Robert led her into his office—a space as refined as his outfit. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a stunning view of the city skyline, the walls were lined with bookshelves, and the mahogany desk was a fortress of organization. Even the air felt expensive, carrying faint notes of leather and cedar.

"Here's Imelda's list for us." Robert handed her a single sheet of paper with a knowing smirk.

Bianca skimmed it quickly. "This doesn't look too bad."

"Plus these." He handed over two more sheets.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Wait, seriously?"

"And don't forget this." He hauled a small brown box from beneath his desk and placed it on top. Its contents spilled over—endless papers, handwritten notes, and swatches of fabric.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Bianca exclaimed. "Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke."

Robert shook his head, laughing. "Even I'm not this funny. I don't know why she bothers asking for help when she micromanages every single detail."

Bianca sighed and began sorting through the papers. "Let's see... 'Entrée Suggestions,' 'Decorations Do's and Don'ts,' 'Party Games That Highlight the Schuylers and Salvadors as a Couple'... Wow, this is intense. But hey, at least we've got a clear guide."

"If you think this makes our job easier, you don't know Imelda," Robert said, rolling his eyes. "Ready to dive into appetizers?"

Bianca glanced at yet another list he handed her. "It's all deconstructed fancy stuff. Aren't there going to be kids at this thing?"

"Kids have never been Imelda's strength," Robert quipped.

"Okay, how about we go with the spinach-stuffed olives? At least they sound edible."

"Good call. We'll pair them with caramelized water chestnuts and... what even is 'milk dust'? Never mind. At least Imelda will be happy."

"And that's what this party's all about." Bianca's tone was light, but she couldn't ignore the twinge of sarcasm beneath it.

"Appetizers, check. What's next?"

---

Hours passed in a blur of negotiations, color schemes, and catering calls. By the time Robert hung up the phone after haggling with an antiques dealer over a chandelier Imelda had to have, they were both drained.

"I think that's everything," Robert said with a sigh of relief. He walked over to a sleek bar cart in the corner of the room and poured two glasses of wine. "Drink?"

Bianca smiled as he handed her a glass. "I have to admit, I'm impressed. When we first met, I kind of thought you were…"

"A party boy?" Robert finished, raising an eyebrow.

Bianca shrugged sheepishly. "Can you blame me?"

Robert grinned. "I know Ken introduced me as his assistant, but my actual title is Deputy Chief Officer. It's a little more complicated than taking messages and scheduling meetings. Some days, Ken and I don't even see each other—or our father, for that matter."

"Our father?" Bianca repeated, intrigued. "I thought you were just unofficial siblings."

Robert's expression softened as he swirled his wine. "I lived with the Schuylers during middle and high school. They practically adopted me—everything but the paperwork. Ken's had everything handed to him: the important job, the adorable kids, the perfect fiancée. But me? I've had to fight for everything. And still, I'm always just a step behind him."

"Sibling rivalry much?" Bianca teased, though her tone was gentle.

"Not at all," Robert replied with a wry smile. "I wouldn't be here if it weren't for Ken. I'm just... the backup plan. If he ever screws up, I'll be there to pick up the pieces."

Bianca tilted her head, sensing something more beneath his words. "You're really okay with that?"

"It's just the way things are." Robert hesitated, then added, "Too bad about Ken and Imelda, though…"

Bianca's curiosity flared. "What do you mean?"

But Robert clammed up, redirecting the conversation. "You sure this RSVP list is accurate?"

Bianca sighed internally. Nice dodge. "Well, yeah... I guess so."

"Good. Because if it's not, Imelda will kill me."

---

They continued working through the afternoon, Robert's humor making the process surprisingly bearable. At one point, he regaled her with a story about Imelda attempting to order pizza, hilariously misunderstanding the concept of delivery drivers versus caterers.

Bianca laughed so hard she spilled a bit of her drink on her blouse. "Oh, crap!" she exclaimed, blotting at the stain with a napkin.

"Here, let me help," Robert offered, grabbing a handful of tissues. He leaned in, dabbing carefully at the spill.

"I hate to admit it, but you're good at this," Bianca said, chuckling.

"Well, I have my talents," Robert replied with a sly grin. "You know, this stain would come out faster if you just took the top off…"

Bianca rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Nice try, Robert. But you're not getting me out of my clothes that easily."

"Hey, can't blame a guy for trying," he teased, leaning in a fraction closer.

Before Bianca could respond, a low, stern voice cut through the air. "A-hem."

Bianca froze, her heart leaping into her throat. She turned to see Ken standing in the doorway, his eyes locked on Robert's hand, which still hovered on her breast.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Ken said, his tone sharp and unmistakably angry.

"Ken!" Bianca gasped, her cheeks burning as Robert stepped back, a sheepish look on his face.

Ken's gaze didn't waver, his piercing eyes fixed on his brother. The tension in the room was palpable, and Bianca had no idea what was about to happen next.