Chapter Eight
Emily leaned forward, the first sign she’d been remotely impressed by what Sloane had to say. “Oh, yes. I’ve been there a time or two. Fantastic cupcakes. I didn’t realize you were related to one of the owners.”
Which was not a coincidence. She refused to trade on her brother’s fame to advance her career. Or at least that had always been her stance. What was she doing?
“Yes, Donovan Dell is my brother.”
Preston’s chair squeaked as he leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. He knew how much she hated people fawning over her once they found out who her brother was. But they hadn’t seen each other in seven years. He couldn’t know with certainty she still felt that way. As far as he knew, she could’ve done a 180 and now dropped her brother’s name at every opportunity.
Emily clapped her hands together. “Excellent. It seems you two both have very promising clients. I can’t wait to see your results in two weeks.”
She had two weeks to prove her worth to Emily and SDT. Two weeks to prove she was the badass marketing executive she knew she was.
Sloane nodded at Emily and rose. They all said their goodbyes. Preston clearly didn’t want to leave until she did, and she sure as hell wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of having the last word with Emily, which is how they found themselves standing at the elevator watching the floor numbers light up while they studiously ignored each other by tacit agreement. There were SDT employees walking by. Probably wouldn’t do to get into a screaming match in the lobby after a job interview. She was sure that was in an etiquette book somewhere. LinkedIn probably had something to say about it, as well.
The elevator light for their floor lit up and the bell dinged as the doors slid open. Like synchronized swimmers, they stepped into the space together and turned to face the closing doors. They were finally alone.
Preston sniffed. “Interesting save back there.”
And there went their mutual truce.
She stared straight ahead. The image of his shiny forehead bounced off the mirrored doors. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You were taken aback by Emily’s curveball. You didn’t expect there to be more to getting the job. You pulled that project out of your ass.”
Her grip on her messenger bag tightened. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I know you’re awfully touchy about your brother. If you’re dropping his name, you must be desperate to get this job.”
She would not curse this fool out. “My brother owns a business. I am doing work for him. She asked. I answered. The end.”
She kept her eyes on the floor numbers lighting up. Why hadn’t they reached the lobby yet? He was getting on her nerves, yes, but he also wore some cologne that probably cost more than her monthly car payment and was presently clogging up her olfactory senses. It was nothing like August’s amazing scent, and oh God, she’d just volunteered to work at his business. Which meant she’d be seeing a lot more of him. Inhaling more of that delicious scent. What had she done?
But she couldn’t worry about that right now. She had more pressing concerns. In this enclosed space, standing so close, her sinuses were having a field day. Her head was starting to ache and her eyes were tearing up. She needed to get away from the cologne from hell—and Preston—as soon as possible.
Finally, they reached the ground floor. She took a breath, but not too much because she didn’t want to inhale any more of his scent than necessary.
“As nice as this little catch-up session was, I’ve got to go.” Sloane exited the elevator and headed toward her car.
“I’m going to win, you know,” Preston called from behind her.
Not if she had anything to say about it. As soon as she told her brother—and August—that they would be seeing a lot more of her.
For the third time in less than a week, Sloane found herself knocking on her brother’s office door at Sugar Blitz. She most certainly had not scoured the storefront to see if August was there. He wasn’t, but that wasn’t important. Neither was her disappointment when she hadn’t spotted him. She was here to see her brother.
At Donovan’s “Come in,” she walked inside. He blinked in surprise when he spotted her. “Sloane, what are you doing here?”
She settled in one of the chairs in front of the desk. “What? I can’t come see my wise older brother?”
He dropped his pen and pinned her with a get-real gaze. “Okay, now I know you’re up to something. What’s up?”
Sloane lifted her chin. Get on with it. The ends justify the means. Pride will do nothing but keep you on the unemployment line. “I’ve been thinking about your offer, and I’ve reconsidered. I would like to come work for Sugar Blitz.”
His patented big-brother suspicious gaze didn’t waver. “Why the change of heart? You’ve been pretty adamant about doing your own thing.”
There was no reason to lie, other than pride, and she’d already concluded she couldn’t let her pride hold her back. “I had a job interview earlier. I wasn’t lying about that.”
“Did it not go well?” Now, worry replaced suspicion on his face. She shouldn’t bristle. He was being protective. She wouldn’t bristle, but sometimes being the youngest Dell sibling sucked.
“No, it went great. However, my potential boss has some concerns about my work history.”
Donovan’s chest puffed up. Uh-oh, here came big-brother indignation. “What does that mean? Your work history and work ethic are impeccable. That’s why I’ve tried to hire you several times.”
Sloane smiled. Her brother really was the best. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, but she’s worried that most of my history has been as an assistant. You and I both know I did the bulk of the social media work for my previous job, but that’s hard to prove, especially with a former boss who will deny it to his last breath.”
He inclined his head in agreement. He’d heard her complaints plenty of times. “So this new place has concerns. Where does that leave you?”
“She’d like me to lead a social media campaign for a company or product of my choosing.” Sloane scrunched up her nose. “I kinda sorta blurted out that I was about to start doing that very thing for my brother’s cupcake shop. She’s a big fan of Sugar Blitz, by the way.”
Donovan’s lips quirked in amusement. “Ah, Rash Sloane made an appearance.”
She sniffed. “I prefer resolute.”
His eyes, so like their father’s, twinkled. “I’m sure you do.”
Sloane rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Donovan. On to more important things. What do you say about bringing me onboard?”
“There’s the focused Sloane who won’t let anyone or anything stand in her way of succeeding.” He studied her. “But have you really thought this through? Despite repeatedly asking you to come work here, I’ve always understood why you turn me down.”
She nodded. “Well, things have changed. Let’s be real. One, I quit my job, and I need a new one. My bills aren’t going to pay themselves. And I really want this job. Two, you have a high-profile business in San Diego. There aren’t a lot of those beating down my door right now. Your business is in transition. I can and will help make sure your new location is a success. Finally, you need my help. Your social media game is weak.”
Donovan’s eyebrows lifted. “Tell me how you really feel, Sloane.”
“I will. Always. With the latest incident of a Sugar Blitz owner going viral, I have a million ideas on how we can capitalize.”
“You do? Can’t wait to hear them. But what about the personal reasons you always give every time you tell me to get lost?”
Already prepared for this question, Sloane leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs. “This is only temporary. I plan to use this opportunity to launch me into another fantastic opportunity that has nothing to do with my famous brother. It’s a failsafe plan.”
He chuckled. “I’m not sure such a thing exists, but I’m game if you are. I’m sure Nicholas and August will be too.”
She ignored the little shiver that raced down her spine at the mention of August’s name. She asked very, very casually, “Speaking of the social media darling, where is he?”
Donovan spread his arms wide. “Off being a social media darling.”
Sloane blinked, probably a couple of hundred times, as shock skittered through her entire system like a train going off the tracks. “I’m sorry. What?”
August twisted in the chair as lights beat down on him in unrelenting waves. He was positive the makeup they’d dabbed on him was melting away like ice cream in ninety-degree weather. Why was he here? Whose big, bright idea was this?
Oh, yeah. His.
Before he could come to his senses last night, he’d replied to an email invitation he’d studiously ignored since the Rant Heard Round the World.
In two minutes, he was going to make his debut on Good Morning, San Diego. For the whole city to see and comment. The producers had already assured him that the national network morning show that aired before Good Morning, San Diego planned to re-air the segment tomorrow.
Fucking great.
August shifted on the metal stool, seeking a more comfortable position. He usually didn’t give his size much thought. He was a big guy. That was one of his best assets as a professional football player. His teammates were mostly the same size or bigger, which meant he was normal in that world. But, in the real world, that wasn’t the case.
He didn’t doubt the stool looked great on camera, but it was making a suspicious creaking noise under him. Still, the chair was the least of his concerns at the moment. But concentrating on the stool meant he didn’t have to think about what was to come. Namely, that he was about to do an actual interview, and not a postgame interview, where he could toss out a few clichés until the media horde left in disgust to find better prey, or if a reporter actually asked a decent question, he could delve deep into the game he loved.
A pesky bead of sweat slithered down his hairline to his cheek. What the hell was he doing here?
Oh, yeah. Being brave or some such bullshit. Taking the road less traveled after preferring the tried-and-true path of never seeking attention for so long. Maybe his ex-wife and father had a point. He’d recited his reasons on a nonstop loop in his head since he woke up that morning. Too bad his stomach didn’t care. It was currently doing its best impression of a boat lost at sea during a dangerous storm as it pitched back and forth, never settling down for more than two seconds at a time.
The anchor, Kayla Ruiz, smiled at him in sympathy as though she could sense his turmoil. Hell, she probably didn’t have to guess. His distress was probably written all over his face. He forced his lips into a smile that undoubtedly more closely resembled a grimace, but she visibly relaxed.
Kayla smiled into the camera as the producer counted down the return from the commercial break. “We’re joined today by August Hodges, who you might know as SugarBae on social media. He’s also the star fullback for the San Diego Knights.”
Amused by her wording choice, August’s smile became a little more natural. Fullbacks weren’t usually referred to as stars. Fullbacks did the grunt work that allowed players like Nicholas to get the glory. Which was exactly how August liked it.
“Thanks for stopping by today, August,” she said.
He nodded. “Thanks for having me.” He sounded almost normal, his voice only wobbling slightly on the last word.
She was staring at him like he was a conquering hero returned home from battle. Usually, he only got that reaction at sports bars when drunk Knights fans spotted him. Which is why he rarely stepped foot in a bar.
“I believe I speak for women all across San Diego, heck, all across the world, when I say I’m thrilled you’re here,” Kayla said. “I’m thrilled you said what you said. It’s not every day that men speak so eloquently on the discrimination women face and advocate for us to receive the recognition we deserve.”
August made sure his smile didn’t waver. Or he tried to. He didn’t know what to say. She was looking at him expectantly. Apparently, a smile wasn’t going to cut it. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Her voice brightened like she could coax a hardier response out of him if she were friendlier. “Did you know you were being filmed?”
“I didn’t.”
She waited a beat, expecting more. But he’d already answered the question. He didn’t know what else to say. Theoretically, if his brain wasn’t whirring at a million beats per second, he could’ve come up with something more. But this is what shyness and nerves did to him. Beads of sweat at both temples slid silently down his face. His hands, clenched together under the table out of sight, were clammy.
Amazingly enough, Kayla’s voice brightened even more. “Okay, then. Let’s talk about what you said. You were very adamant about respecting women and fighting back against toxic masculinity. You and your partners at Sugar Blitz have done your part to rewrite what masculinity is. Have you all talked about that?”
August shook his head. “We haven’t. We had an idea for a business, and we went with it. We all like cupcakes and thought it would be a fun challenge.”
“But surely you understand why your speech struck a chord in so many.”
August shrugged. “The truth is important to me.” One of the core tenets of his life. “Those guys were spewing BS and they needed to hear the truth.” He could mention his own upbringing, his life with a father who didn’t much value his role as a father, how he’d never really been able to let go of that pain, but there was no way in hell he was opening himself up to that type of scrutiny. “I wasn’t looking for attention.”
She nodded like he’d spoken some pearl of wisdom that opened her eyes to the true meaning of life. “Speaking of attention, how have the last few days been for you?”
“Crazy.”
She chuckled. “I can imagine. When that post went up on Sugar Blitz’s Instagram account letting everyone know you were at the store, there were a few people in this studio who cut out early for the day. You must be loving all the attention.”
He shrugged. “Not really.”
A considering light entered her eyes. “Is there someone special in your life who might object to all this attention? That’s what everyone wants to know. We know you’re not married.”
Unbidden, an image of Sloane flickered in his conscience. She wasn’t his. He wasn’t hers. And that’s how it was going to stay. That ship had sailed years ago, thanks to his actions. She’d moved on. Proved it by dating other men who weren’t good enough to breathe the same air as her, let alone touch or kiss her.
He told the truth. “No, there isn’t. I’m single.”
The anchor turned back to the camera with a brilliant and blinding smile. “Well, there you have it, San Diego. SugarBae is single and ready to mingle.”
Wait. What?