Chapter -10- #2
“This is my legacy.” Kenneth rubs his temples. “It’s the livelihoods of the family I’ve created here. Stepping in as CEO is a promise to the shareholders. A commitment to your staff. To yourself. Is that something you can handle?”
A growl wakes behind the clouds. Thin raindrops slice down the window. Denz forces his own tears to stay behind his eyelashes.
He’s not going to cry. Not here. Not in front of his dad.
His boss .
In an eerily calm tone, Kenneth says, “You’re young. I was too when I started. Grow from this mistake. Be the kind of leader you were born to be.”
He waits for Denz to nod.
Denz does.
“And if you can’t handle it,” Kenneth says, frowning, “then step aside for someone who’s ready.”
His words reverberate alongside the doubt Auntie Cheryl voiced outside the elevators when he forgot to sign the venue contract. The ones from Kami over a month ago. Haunting reminders of the kind of Carter he keeps failing to be.
Denz stands, dazed. “I won’t let you down, Dad,” he says, barely keeping his voice in check as he walks out.
“God, today’s the worst!”
The last voice Denz expects to hear at 4:57 P.M. is Kami’s. He’s standing in front of the elevator. His phone vibrates with a notification. Probably another text from Braylon that will go unread. He hasn’t bothered responding since walking into his dad’s office.
The snarling thunder outside is as loud as Kami’s heels when she stomps up to him. He’s not in the mood to talk. If only the damn elevator would reach their floor faster.
Kami whips out her own phone. She types away.
“Ugh. Emily fucking Sedwick.”
Clearly, she is in the mood to chat. Denz pointedly stares at his shoes.
“She’s the worst of the sisters,” Kami proclaims.
“Hmm?”
He only half listens to her rant. Something about Emily wanting an early 2000s boy band to reunite for one night only and perform the song her NFL-defensive-lineman fiancé proposed to her with.
Denz isn’t surprised. He met plenty of kids like Emily at Brighton.
The “money is no object” kind that think the world revolves around their parents’ enormous bank accounts.
The opposite of Jamie.
Denz isn’t na?ve, though. More than 50 percent of 24 Carter Gold’s clients are like the Sedwicks. They’re also the reason he’s wearing Armani loafers and is one elevator trip away from slumping in the heated leather seats of his BMW.
It’s a lot to reconcile with, and Denz is too focused on hiding the tears sticking to his eyelashes.
“She wants me to pull off an honest-to-God Santa Claus miracle too,” Kami continues, snapping her tan trench closed. “Snow in March. In Atlanta . Create a winter wonderland for her first dance with Warner.”
Outside of his NFL ties, Warner’s family is also loaded. Shocking. Denz jams the down button once more.
“Who does that?” Kami huffs.
“A Sedwick,” he finally replies.
“A fucking Sedwick.” Kami’s phone pings. “Emily’s drama can wait. I’m taking Nic early prom gown shopping. Wanna come with?”
Denz hesitates. Is the elevator broken?
“Promise no more work talk,” Kami says, elbowing him. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
Denz tries to sigh but his sinuses ache from all the sniffling. At least he hasn’t cried yet.
“Hey.” She pivots in his direction. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m good,” he strains.
“If your definition of ‘good’ is one Adele song away from destroying a tub of Gooey Butter Cake from Jeni’s Ice Cream in one sitting, then yeah, you’re perfect.”
Denz tips his head back, exhaling. “Allergies.”
Instantly, Kami reaches up to rub his bicep.
“Allergies” was their secret code as kids.
Whenever one of them was so angry, so crushed by a comment from the aunties or uncles or even their dad, but didn’t want to cry in front of anyone, they’d whisper that word.
Their protective walls went up after that.
Denz would sing so loud, no one could hear Kami’s quiet sobs.
On his bad days, she’d pass him her designer sunglasses to hide his damp eyes.
Nic’s never needed a code word. One lethal look, and everyone knows to leave her alone. Even Denz is frightened of how cold she can be when pushed too far.
“Dad?” Kami whispers.
He carefully nods.
“We’ve been fighting all week,” she says, sympathetic. “He’s not a fan of my ideas for the engagement party.”
“Ideas like—?”
He wonders if Kami has changed her mind. If she’s starting to see things like Eva does. Like he does. Going back to their roots—wedding planning.
Kami grins. “After the toasts, I thought we should offer a lucky guest the opportunity to throw Emily in front of a MARTA bus.”
Or maybe not . A laugh hangs in the back of Denz’s throat, but the tears threatening to spill out silence it. His lips manage to twitch upward.
“It’s nothing personal, Denz. Dad means well.”
“I can’t tell.”
“We’re never going to do things like him.”
“I don’t want to be like him,” Denz says stiffly. “I want to be better. I want to be good eno—” He stops before the last word comes out.
Kami’s soft eyes say she already knows. “Letting him get the best of you isn’t how you win this game.”
“Is that what it is?” He finally laughs, a wistful noise that carries in the silent offices. “A goddamn game? Me versus you? Some sort of Mad Max shitshow where we tear each other apart for their pleasure?”
“It’s not like—”
“You didn’t have to save me at the mayor’s party.”
“Of course I did.”
“I would’ve figured it out.”
“It’s the mayor . Not some rich, pretentious family of ungrateful assholes in a city full of rich, pretentious, ungrateful assholes.” She frowns. “Our reputation was on the line. If you look bad, we both look bad.”
“We’re not the same.”
Kenneth made sure he knew that earlier.
“We’re Carters, ” Kami reminds him. “That’s all the people dying to apply for this job care about.”
“Whatever.” He stubbornly looks away.
“Denz,” she tries, her voice gentle. “It’s not a competition.”
“It is . And I don’t want to lose. This is my dream.”
“It’s mine too. But for different reasons.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means…” Kami pauses, chewing her lip. “It means I don’t think we’re in it for the same thing. I know you. We grew up across the hall from each other. I wonder if…” She releases another breath, her eyes searching his face. “If it’s my dream and your fantasy.”
The sting from holding in his tears is almost too much now.
Quietly, she adds, “I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t need it!” Denz hates how screechy his voice is. Hates the way Kami backs away, confused and wounded.
“Wait, Kam—”
“I forgot a… thing. For Nic. In my office,” she stammers. “Get home safe, okay?”
Denz doesn’t know how to reply. He doesn’t have to. The elevator doors slide open. He climbs inside, alone. Kami remains in the same spot, unmoving.
He pretends the shine in her eyes doesn’t mirror his own. After all, it’s only allergies.