Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
ANDIE
“ H ey, what’s up Dandelion?” Liam cheerfully chirps into the phone when he answers my call.
“Oh goody, another nickname.” I roll my eyes.
“I think this one’s going to stick,” Liam says. “It’s like ‘Dandy Andie’ only cooler.”
“Your barometer for measuring your own sense of coolness should be dismantled and donated to science.”
“Rude. Did you plan to snub me when you called or was insulting me a spur-of-the-moment decision? ‘Cuz I’m definitely getting planned-to-snub-me vibes.”
“I didn’t call to insult you, but if I did, I’ll just consider it a bonus.”
“Aren’t you just a peach injected with vinegar today! To whom do I owe this dishonor?”
“I need a favor.”
“First, you overcook my grits, and now you want a favor. I’m gonna have to rethink this whole friendship thing with you.”
“Nah, you know you love it when I overcook your grits. Admit it.”
“Fine. Who do you want me to beat up? ”
I suck in a breath between my teeth, making a hissing sound.
“Oh, no! Don’t tell me you and Dip-wad are back together,” Liam curses into the phone before giving me a chance to respond. “Because if you are, I’m absolutely throwing you off the friendship train.”
“Don’t get your panties in a wad, Liam. That’s not why I’m calling. At least, not exactly.”
“Not following.”
“I need you to ask your brother for a favor. For me.” Ugh! I hope I don’t sound as pathetic as I feel.
“Let me get this straight. You need a favor from me, and this favor involves me asking my brother for a favor, for you.”
“Exactly.”
“Here’s a thought. Why not ask him yourself?”
“Because for this favor, I need you to butter him up for me, first.” I cringe. This is a bad idea. A really bad idea. Abort. Abort .
“You’re kind of scaring me, Andie. Are you in some sort of trouble? Because if you are, Lenny wouldn’t even hesitate to jump in and help you. And he wouldn’t need me to butter him up first.”
I suck in another deep breath. “That’s sweet. Good to know I can count on Lenny, but I’m not in any type of legal trouble.”
There’s a silent pause before Liam says, “Okaaay. If you don’t need legal counsel, why do you need Lenny’s help?”
“Not Lenny.”
“Um…you've lost me, Andie. You don’t need a favor from Lenny and Lloyd is overseas, working on his PhD. That only leaves–”
The line goes quiet, while I wait for realization to sink in. It takes a few beats, and then Liam hisses, “Layton.”
I swallow hard. Layton is the brother closest in age to Liam, only thirteen months older. For the most part, Liam gets along with all his brothers, but his relationship with Layton can be a little colorful sometimes. And by colorful, we’re talking anything from red-hot to fiery blue. Suffice it to say, these two were in their fair share of scrapes when they were boys.
Lenny is the oldest of the Graham siblings. He’s a lawyer and has been dating the same woman for as long as I can remember. She’s also an attorney. They met during law school and have been together for over a decade. Technically, Lenny serves as the Chief Legal Officer of the family business, but he’s more hands-off than most CLOs because the firm he and his girlfriend started took off at an unexpected rate. In recent months, he has become more of a high-level consultant for the Graham’s company, delegating many of his responsibilities. To declare that he’s stretched thin would be a gross understatement, but that’s the way Lenny likes it.
Lloyd is the youngest boy in the family and a total brainiac. Currently, he’s working on his doctorate dissertation somewhere in India. All I know is it involves math and something to do with NASA. I asked him about it once, and he was purposely vague in his response. I’m unsure if he was vague because of the nature of his research or if he rightly assumed my mind wasn’t up to the task. Lloyd was offered a position as the CTO of the family business, but he declined.
And then there’s Layton.
All five of the Graham siblings are good-looking. Unfairly beautiful. Gorgeous. But where Liam is a harmless and friendly flirt, Layton is a dangerous one. Liam is easy-going, athletic, and always ready with a dose of Southern slang and a mischievous grin that would charm anyone, including half the female population of Eugene. Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but you get my meaning. Liam’s eyes are like blue diamonds that sparkle when he grins, and he has this larger-than-life magnetism that makes him easy to spot in a crowd. His effervescent personality reminds me of the sun. No matter how much time you spend in his presence, you can’t help but crave more. That irresistible charm of his is infectious–and believe me, he knows it, but not in an annoying way. He’s just…Liam–a noun that could easily be used as an adjective or a verb.
Okay, it’s possible that I am biased on the subject of Liam. How can I not be? He’s been such an important part of my life for the past, well, forever.
If I’m going to be completely honest here, Liam does have a tendency to get into trouble. Not because he’s malicious or evil. Never that. More because he’s impulsive. And for some inexplicable reason, he enjoys getting into fist fights. Particularly, barroom brawls that involve multiple participants. Be warned, however, because Liam is very particular about his face. Anyone foolish enough to land a punch to that pretty face of his will suffer his wrath in spades.
Here’s my final word about Liam and then I’ll stop my obsessive musing. In my thirty-three years, I’ve never met anyone else like him. I suppose that’s because the world could only handle one of him.
Layton is regarded as the black sheep of the family. The brothers love to tease him about being adopted, which is silly, because Layton and Liam look so much alike–they’re like a matching set of salt and pepper shakers–one light, the other dark. In truth, however, Layton has earned the descriptor of black sheep mostly because of the edge of mystery and aloofness embodied in his character. He’s the dark brother, a throwback to some great-great-grandfather on the mother’s side of the family. Dark hair. Mesmerizing, alluring eyes that are such a rich shade of blue that a person risks becoming hypnotized just by looking at him. His eyes are like these powerful magnets that draw you in before you’re even aware of what’s happening.
Heard that from a friend.
The point is, Layton’s eyes don’t even look real. He’s decidedly the most striking of all the brothers. The man always looks like he’s hiding a naughty secret. Which he probably is. He’s also a bit of a rebel and has caused or been in more trouble than all the siblings put together, including Liam, and that’s saying something! And alas, where Liam is a harmless, adorable flirt, Layton’s flirtatious ways tend to lure women into his lair. He’s left a long string of broken hearts in his wake, mostly women who believed they were special enough to tame or reform him.
Please explain to me why anyone would want to tame a beautiful, wild animal? Where Liam is like a playful and friendly Golden Retriever, Layton is a black panther–strikingly and lethally gorgeous, so best observed from a safe distance.
The Graham brothers have one sister. Layla. She’s a junior at the University of Oregon, and as I’m sure you can imagine, she’s been spoiled rotten by her four older brothers. She used to follow Liam and me around all the time when we were in high school. Sometimes, I think Liam’s mom put her up to it to keep us out of trouble.
“Um, Andie? You still there?”
I clear my throat and nod, even though Liam can’t see me. “Yep. Sorry. My mind went on a self-guided tour for a moment.”
“You want me to ask Layton for a favor?”
“Yes.”
“A favor for you?”
“Also yes.”
“Okaaay. And what, exactly, would this favor be?”
I thought this conversation would be easier over the phone than in person, but I’m starting to doubt that decision.
“Is he dating anyone right now?” Crap. That question sounds so much worse hearing it spoken aloud.
Liam scoffs. “Layton is always dating someone, Andie. Always and never. The more important question is why do you want to know?” There’s an unusual curtness in Liam’s tone. Though I can’t see him, I know his body has gone rigid.
There’s no easy way for me to say this. Soooo, here I go. In for a penny, in for a pound, right ?
“IneedLaytontobemydateforthebenefitandpretendhelikesme.”
Silence.
More silence.
Crickets.
Finally, “There must be something wrong with our connection. Would you please repeat what you just said?”
“IneedLaytontobemydateforthebenefitandpretendhelikesme.”
More silence.
And then, “Woman! Have you lost your mind? You must have fallen off your granny’s rocker!”
“Huh?”
“You’re madder than a wet hen if you think I’m going to ask Layton to date you.”
“No. No. It’s not like that. I don’t want to actually date him. I just want him to pretend to be into me. For one night. Well, not a whole night. Just a couple of hours. That’s all. Then we go our separate ways.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, Andie, but you’re not Layton’s type.”
Rude. Is there a right way to take a statement like that?
“Why? Because I’m not pretty enough for his hotness and mightiness?”
Liam barks a laugh. “It’s not that at all. You’re gorgeous.”
“You don’t think Layton would be willing to do me a solid? He and I work on the same floor, so our paths cross pretty regularly. He’s always been nice to me, so why wouldn’t he be willing to help me out?”
“He’s nice to you because he knows it bugs me.”
“I’m confused. Why would it bug you for Layton to be nice to me?”
There’s a lingering moment of silence before Liam switches the narrative on me. “Go to the benefit with me, Andie.” It doesn’t escape my notice that he did not answer my question.
“I can’t do that, Liam.”
“Why not? We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“That’s the point. I don’t want to show up with a friend. I want to show up with a date. Even if it’s just a pretend one.”
“Why?”
Why, indeed. “Because Derek will be there. With…her.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Come on, Liam. Don’t make this a big deal. It’s just a favor. That’s all.”
“Where are you right now?”
“In my office, why?”
“I’m heading over.”
“Will you talk to Layton for me? Please?”
“Let’s talk about it when I get there. I have two quick stops to make first.”
“Fine, but you’d better bring me lunch. I haven’t eaten anything yet and I’m on the verge of hanger.”
“Noted. I’ll see you in a few.”
I knew it was a long shot, asking Liam to talk to Layton for me. I would ask Layton myself, but he’s such a ladies’ man. He’s the seductive type that disarms his victims before going in for the kill. He’d make a great hypnotist. Or black widow, if he were female–but trust me, Layton being a female would be a loss for women and a sheer waste of manly perfection.
That probably makes him sound worse than he is, but if ever there was a man capable of X-ray vision, it’s Layton Graham. He’s the type of man who can melt away a woman’s resolve with a single searing look. It’s unnerving. I think it’s his superpower. In fact, whoever’s in charge of creating superheroes should model their next one after Layton Graham. Or perhaps supervillain would be more accurate.
Don’t get me wrong, Layton and Liam are both shameless flirts, but Layton’s way of flirting is…predatorial. Remember what I said about him being a black panther?
Just thinking about it makes me pick up the folder on my desk and start fanning myself.
“Knock, knock,” my assistant, Sidni says, before waltzing into my office.
“If you’re not going to wait until I invite you in, why bother knocking?”
“It’s a courtesy thing. Fair warning. Why are you fanning yourself? It’s like sixty degrees below human in this place.”
I chuckle and lean back in my chair to stretch my back. She’s right about the temperature. The Grahams prefer to keep the office on the cool side. Mrs. Graham secretly revealed to me once that they do that purposefully so the women in the building are forced to cover themselves properly. I laugh to myself recalling the conversation. At the time, all four brothers worked in some area of the business and a few of the women employees were far more interested in “catching” one of the Graham boys than earning a paycheck. According to Liam’s mom, these women ignored the suggested dress code policy and it caused enough of a distraction to the other employees that something had to be done. Lowering the temperature in the building seemed an easy solution without having to target anyone specific. Guess that’s one way to think out of the box. Ice box, that is.
I release an audible yawn.
“Long night?”
“Ha! I was running some preliminary data for the Landmark file. There are some potential issues with this acquisition, and with so much money involved, I want to get ahead of it if I can. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.”
“Like what? You think the numbers are unrealistic?”
I shake my head. “I can’t put my finger on it. It’s just a hunch. I’ve been debating whether I should sit down with Riley and get his take on it.”
Riley’s one of the attorneys in Graham Land Development’s in-house legal division. He handles subdivisions and the covenants, conditions, and restrictions of the planned unit developments to be built once the tract maps are finalized and recorded. He’s not the easiest man to work with, especially for those of us in marketing and public relations.
“That’s actually why I’m here,” Sidni says, tapping her manicured nails against the door jam. “Lyssa just called and asked me to send you up to legal. Like immediately.”
“Great. Did she say which project it involves?”
Sidni shakes her head. “No. She just said to send you up the moment you finished your phone call.”
Would it be too much to ask for a little advance warning?
“Guess I’ll be winging it, then.”
I grab my tablet and push away from my desk. My office isn’t very big. There’s room for my desk, a file cabinet, a printer, and two cushioned button chairs positioned across from my desk. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves line one of the walls. It sounds more impressive than it is.
Mine is one of the few offices that has a window. And by “window,” I mean there’s a rectangular hole in the wall that’s been replaced by glass, giving me an up close and personal view of the adjacent building. If I stand to the side and squint, I can see the parking lot.
So, definitely not a penthouse or corner office with a great view. But my office beats the heck out of working in the cubicle where I spent my first three years with the company.
I inherited most of my books from my predecessor, who retired early last year. He’s the one who recommended me for my current position, so I have him to thank for the late nights and headaches. Despite said late nights and headaches, when the deals finally come together, everyone wins. And that gives me a great sense of satisfaction and accomplishment.
Sidni steps aside, making room for me to exit my office then follows me out. “Anything pressing you need me to do while you’re upstairs?” she asks.
“Actually, yes. Would you call the title company and see if they sent copies of the documents for the Landmark file? Also, ask them to run an update on the preliminary report.”
“Already called them. They said they’ll email the file to you this afternoon, along with a map of plotted easements. We can expect the tube in tomorrow’s run.”
“You know, it’s uncanny how you can read my mind sometimes. I think mind-reading is one of your super powers.” As I turn to head to the elevators, my stomach rumbles loudly. Sidni reaches into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulls out a protein bar, which she tosses in my direction.
“Something to munch on during your elevator ride.”
I thank her and gladly accept her offer. I make a mental note to pick up a box of protein bars to add to her stash. I don’t know what I did to deserve Sidni, but her days as my assistant are numbered, I know, because she’s way too good at her job. It won’t be long before another department swoops in and offers her a promotion.
“Hey, I almost forgot,” I say, turning around. “Liam’s bringing me lunch in a bit. If I’m not back when he gets here, would you let him know he’s welcome to hang out in my office?”
Sidni’s cheeks and ears flush a soft shade of pink. She’s one of dozens of women crushing on Liam. Where Layton leaves a string of broken hearts in his wake, Liam leaves an office full of swooning females .
I suppose Liam’s mom had a valid point about women in the office having eyes for the Graham boys. Thankfully, both Layton and Liam avoid dating employees, otherwise, the turnover at this place would be unsustainable.
“I’ll let him know,” Sidni says, grinning. “Anything else?”
“Nope. Just stay by your phone in case I need saving.”
Giving me a thumbs up, she says, “Will do.”
Once in the elevator, I lean against the far wall and close my eyes. I love our legal team, for the most part, but they can be demanding and unreasonable sometimes. But I guess they get paid big bucks to do just that. It’s part of the Graham’s inside checks and balances. They may lose out on some business, but the company’s reputation for adhering to best business practices and being above board in all their dealings is stellar.
The elevator opens to the third floor, where I’m immediately greeted by Lyssa. “Hey, Andie. Hang on a sec, while I let Addison know you’re here.”
So, not Riley, then. I breathe a silent sigh of relief. “Thanks, Lyssa.”
A few minutes pass before Addison steps into the reception area and motions for me to join her in the conference room. The big one with the glass wall, where our legal team meets with Graham's most elite clients.
Great.
I step into the room reserved for meetings between legal, title, marketing, and the elite clients I just mentioned. Usually, project directors and upper-level management attend these meetings. I’m neither. I’m an assistant director without a team.
When deals are important enough for our owners–AKA Liam’s parents–to get involved, the meetings are often held on the golf course or in the box seats our company purchases each year at the University of Oregon football stadium. That’s where deals are made that go way beyond my pay grade. Over the past few years, Liam’s father and members of our board of directors have viewed numerous events from those box seats. I’ve been invited into the box exactly never times.
When I enter the conference room, four sets of eyes shift to stare up at me. Addison gestures to the chair next to hers, and I sit down.
“This is Andie Marriott, our Director of Marketing and Public Relations.”
Wait. What? Director ? Since when?
Four sets of eyebrows lift at the mention of my last name. I have a very distant connection to the Marriotts of the famous hotel chain. Distant, as in, my grandfather is a third cousin, twice removed. But my name is a great ice breaker when meeting new or potential clients.
“Andie, this is Peter Rockwell, Jina Blakely, Andrew Skinner, and Elise Maxwell. Peter and Jina are general partners at Landmark Development Company. Andrew and Elise serve as their legal advisors.”
I plaster on a professional smile and shake each of their outstretched hands, but at the mention of Landmark, my gaze darts quickly to Addison, eyebrow raised in a question. Addison smiles and subtly moves her hand as if to say, I’ll explain later.
I take my seat, and for the next thirty minutes, I listen to a presentation calling for several significant changes to the land acquisition currently in limbo, awaiting clearance from finance and title. The plan involves a new 18-hole golf course, clubhouse, driving range, and training center, with plans to subdivide the surrounding land into three separate tracks of homes. Landmark already owns part of the land and hopes to partner with Graham Development to acquire the remaining parcels. Once the land is subdivided, it will be sold to residential developers of track homes. It’s the first planned development community of this magnitude and scale in Eugene–they’re looking at numbers close to $60 million when all the dust settles.
I still haven’t figured out why I’m here. Or why Addison introduced me as a Director.
Mr. Rockwell swivels in his seat to address me. “How long would it take your team to generate a marketing and demographic analysis for us?”
I must have deer in the headlights written all over my frozen expression, because first of all, I don’t have a team; and second of all, I’ve never been the lead director on a project of this magnitude.
Thankfully, Addison jumps in, “Just a ballpark, Andie. Your best guesstimate.”
My best guesstimate? She does realize what they’re asking goes beyond my scope of experience, right?
I hate being put on the spot like this, especially when something this huge has just been sprung on me. I need to say something that paints me in a positive light. Something a Director of Marketing might say.
An image of Liam comes into my mind. He was the Director of Project Management before the board named him as vice president over acquisitions. His official title is CBDO, Chief Business Development Officer, but that’s too much of a mouthful, so everyone in the office refers to Liam as VP of acquisitions. Much easier.
Liam’s father and grandmother put Liam on the fast track, with a goal of having Liam experience all aspects of the company in preparation for becoming the CEO when Liam’s dad steps down. Liam began in the real estate division, then he became a project manager, then a director, and a little over a year ago he traded his hard hat for a business suit and became a VP. I never asked him how he felt about the move, but to me, he seemed far more comfortable in his hard hat than in a fancy suit and tie.
“Andie?”
I realize everyone is waiting for me to respond, so I channel my inner Liam and try to come up with something intentionally (and brilliantly) vague.
“If it were any other project or a different company, a conservative guesstimate might be six to eight weeks, depending on the level of detail highlighted in the analysis. But given Landmark’s reputation and Graham’s expertise, I believe we could have a reasonable analysis completed in less time.”
I glance at Addison, who rewards me with a nod. “Those were my thoughts, as well, Andie. What kind of data could you have ready for us in three weeks?”
And there it is. They want us to do the impossible. Of course, they do.
“I can only have soft results that quickly. Preliminary numbers at best.”
“How many people would you need to add to your team in order to give us hard numbers within three to four weeks?” Mr. Rockwell asks.
My glance darts to Addison and then down to my tablet, where I pull up a skeleton template and begin to enter rough calculations. Mostly to give myself time to think up an appropriate response. Addison knows I don’t have the managerial authority to assign people to my non-existent team. Only a director has that kind of authority. But then, Addison introduced me as the Director of Marketing, so I’ll need to respond as such and hope she can back me up when the mud hits the fan because there’s definitely going to be some mud.
“We would need to add at least three more people to our team.”
Right. Dream on, Andie.
I continue, “They need to have experience in demographics and data analysis, and ideally, we should include some short-term assistance with title and engineering.” I mention this last part because the initial title search revealed some potential issues with easements and encumbrances. And by potential issues, I mean concerns that could delay the entire project and tie it up in our legal department for weeks, maybe even months.
Addison raises an eyebrow at the mention of title and engineering. Good, she’s picked up on my cue that I’ve found something that could derail the project.
“I’ll reach out to management and have them get back to you with some names.”
Okay then. Go, Addison!
I’d planned on bringing Riley up to speed on the Landmark acquisition once the title company sent over the updated title report, along with copies of the recorded documents and plotted easements. I’m crossing my fingers that Riley transferred the entire project to Addison.
As a real estate and land acquisitions attorney, Addison is tough as nails and doesn’t get easily flustered. Unlike Riley, who turns red, swears, and pushes the blame onto others to make himself look infallible. Don’t get me wrong. Riley’s a brilliant attorney, and he’s been with Graham Development for over two decades, but he’s not what you’d consider a people person. And I would know. My expertise is marketing and public relations, so peopling is kind of my thing.
The meeting adjourns, and Addison walks our visitors to the elevators. When she returns, she’s wearing a guilty smile.
“I’m so sorry for putting you on the spot like that. Everything shifted so quickly that I didn’t have a chance to prep you before the meeting. I only received the paperwork from Riley this morning.”
“It’s fine. It happens. But Director ? Really? When did I receive a promotion?”
“Yeah, sorry about that, too. Landmark would balk at working with anyone below director status, and I refused to assign that twit, Wiley, to this project. He’s a schmoozer, and too often he tells our clients what they want to hear and makes promises we can’t back up.” She chuckles and adds, “Sometimes I wonder if he even knows what we do here.”
“They hired him from the outside. He looked great on paper and interviewed well.”
Addison’s eyebrows raise. “And you know this because…”
I know this because Liam told me. But I’m not about to say that to one of our attorneys.
“Oh, you know. Rumor mill. Things you overhear while waiting in line at the ice machine.”
“Well, regardless, I’d like you to take the lead on this. You didn’t hear this from me, but Wiley’s days are numbered, so I’ll be your direct report. I’ll make some inquiries and run some names by you by the end of the day. Start thinking about how you want to proceed.”
“Okay. No problem.”
Um, slight problem. I’m not a team lead. I’m not a team anything. And what about my current projects?
“Oh, and Andie?” Addison says as she heads back to her office.
“Yeah?”
“If we’re fortunate enough to close this deal, you can bet I’ll be recommending you for a promotion.” She gives me a smile and a parting nod, before disappearing down the hall.
Okay then.
Go, Addison.