Lincoln’s POV
By Monday afternoon, the Samuel mansion was drowning in glossy party planning brochures.
I was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching Archie spread out thick, gold-embossed catalogs across the island. He was still in his crisp white dress shirt, his tie loosened, looking as focused as if he were closing a multimillion-dollar merger.
"We can rent the private pavilion at the botanical gardens," Archie said, tapping a pen against a catalog featuring photos of ice sculptures and silk canopies. "Or Clara suggested the indoor flight simulation center. We can hire a full catering staff, private entertainers, and a five-tier custom cake."
Sitting on the high barstools opposite him, Ethan and Evan looked entirely unimpressed. Evan had his chin propped in his hands, staring
