Hard Shelled Heart (Man of the Month Club #3)

Chapter 1

SERENA

REGAL PECAN’S BOARDROOM

“Oh mija. I’m so proud of you. I can’t believe my baby girl is now CEO of the company we started when she was just a baby.” Tears fill Mama’s eyes but she dare not shed one for fear of ruining her mascara.

“I can’t believe it, either.” My arms are glued straight to my sides as she pulls me into a hug.

Moments ago, my father announced that he would be retiring and stepping down as CEO of Regal Pecans, the company he built from the ground up.

Literally. Subsequently, he announced his successor…

me. This is where most people would insert their happy face and give a big speech to their employees (in this case upper management and a few close friends) about the excitement and optimism over the future of the company.

However, since this was not only a surprise to everyone seated at the table but myself as well, the most I could muster up was a tight smile and worried look on my face.

I was shocked. Shell shocked you can say, because for the last eight months I have been planning my move to Florida where I have found a job as a graphic artist on a design team at a top PR agency in Miami.

My family has yet to learn of the news as I decided to wait until the eleventh hour to avoid any guilt tripping into staying.

The last thing I expected was to not have the opportunity to tell them.

And now I’m faced with turning down my dream job because I will be staying in San Saba, Texas and filling the recently opened position of CEO.

Mama releases me and I’m passed from one person to another, all of them congratulating me on the wonderful promotion.

My brother Santiago, or Santi as I call him, is the last to hug me.

His smile is wide and very unlike the sad one I expected from him.

He’s the first son so naturally, I expected her reins to be passed to him.

Yes I’m the oldest, but in hispanic families the men are always top of the food chain.

“This is so awesome, Rena. I couldn’t be happier for you.” He tells me this with emotion in his voice and I truly believe him.

“You should be CEO, Santi. I’m going to talk to Papa about this.”

“No. I don’t want the position. I’m fine just where I’m at.” He grabs hold of my arm and squeezes it.

Santi is the current CFO and while it is a strenuous job, CEO comes with so much more responsibility. I’ve been extremely satisfied with my position as VP and have had no desire to climb the ranks any further.

I’ve been working here since I was little.

As a kid, Santi and I worked in the groves, scooping up pecans that had fallen from the branches while our workers gathered baskets upon baskets.

When we were teenagers, we moved from the groves to the production floor and learned all about how the pecans went from harvest to home.

By the time we were heading off to college, we were knowledgeable in everything pecans.

Papa began showing us the ropes on the admin side of things, and grooming us to be power executives.

Santi took to it like a fish to water. He was excited about being the second generation to carry Regal Pecans into the future, so he poured himself into his studies and graduated with a Masters of Accountancy.

I, on the other hand, was not as enthusiastic.

I studied what my parents wanted me to –finance– in order for them to allow me to take my graphic design courses.

They assumed it was just a fun little hobby but never expected me to really make something of it.

I went straight from the graduation stage to an office with a view and have been here for the last eight years.

I’m sure many people would be ecstatic over becoming the CEO of a successful company by the age of thirty and be happy making six plus figures. But I am not many people.

I don’t need a lot of money to be happy.

I’ve never been interested in cars that cost more than most people’s houses.

Being a millionaire isn’t on my goals chart.

I mean, I won’t say no if someone wanted to throw it my way, but I’m more focused on thriving in a job that truly makes me happy.

Now it seems that the decision has been taken out of my hands.

“Well I don’t want it,” I whisper. “You know I was planning to leave in four months.” I grab his arm and pull him to the corner of the room. “Did Papa tell you about this?”

Santi bites his lip and his eyes tremble as they roam around the room. “I mean…kinda.”

“There is no kinda, Santi. Either he did or he didn’t. Which is it?”

He closes one eye and scratches his head. “He told me that he planned to announce me as CEO when he retired, but I informed him that I think you’d make a much stronger CEO. I’m happy as CFO and don’t really see myself as the head of this company.”

“Well neither do I and you know that.” I pinch his nipple like I’ve always done when I’m mad at him, and he smacks my hand away, a look of pain on his face.

“Yeah, and that’s why I did it.” He admits and discreetly rubs his sore nipple.

My lip curls and my eye twitches like it’s short circuiting. “What do you mean that’s why you did it? You better start talking now Santiago or you’ll be wearing matching purple nurples.”

He crosses his arms over his chest, protecting his nipples with his hands.

“I don’t want you to leave Rena. The thought of you moving so far away makes my heart drop to my feet.

If I feel so strongly about it, imagine how Papa and Mama would feel.

Mama said she was going to die when we went away to college…

an hour away. Miami is a twenty hour drive and an almost three hour flight.

That isn’t going to work for any of us. So… I nudged Papa in your direction.”

I open my mouth to yell at him but just then, Papa comes walking over to us with happiness written all over his face. I drop my hands and bite out between gritted teeth, “This conversation isn’t over.” I spin around and fall straight into Papa’s arms.

“All of my dreams are finally coming true. My kids are now in charge of the company I built, and life couldn’t be greater.” Papa’s eyes are filled with unshed tears and his voice is choked.

I hug him tight and look over his shoulder at Santi who stands there with a shit grin. If I could reach out and twist his other nipple without getting in trouble from Papa and Mama, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Instead, I stealthily throw him the middle finger and take a deep breath.

In just four short months I was supposed to be living an exciting life in Miami, single and ready to mingle, free and away from the judgemental eyes of my family and friends here in Texas.

Now, I’ll be spending a lifetime talking about nuts, stuck in small town Texas and visiting a life in Miami only in my dreams.

I guess one could say I was fucking nuts for thinking I’d get to live a life of my own.