Chapter 2 #3
Courtney’s face screws up. “Firstly, eww. Secondly, are women really throwing themselves at you left and right?”
I lift my brows in answer but feel the need to clarify. “All the time, but don’t get the wrong idea. Sleeping with them isn’t the norm. I know they’re only after me for my last name and bank account. I’m not a saint by any means, but I’m not the playboy the media and Dad think either.”
“Okay. I believe you,” Courtney says. After a moment, she bites on her lower lip, her expression softening.
“Don’t be mad at Dad, though. I may be the youngest, but even I can see he only wants what’s best for you.
He’s going about it all wrong, but I don’t think he’d really let the board demote you.
He’s just trying to scare you into the right direction, that’s all. ”
“Easy for you to say. You’re Dad’s favorite,” I grunt. “You’re not the one shouldering half the responsibility of the company on your shoulders. I’m starting to think Abi had the right idea and we’re the fuckwits.”
I like to think Abigail, my middle sister, is the sanest one of us. When she graduated college, she was offered a high-position job at the family company, but much to Dad’s dismay, Abi firmly turned down the position and ventured out on her own.
It pissed Dad off, but Abi stood her ground. She’d had enough of him telling her what to do and relished having the freedom away from the drama of running a family business.
Courtney glares at me, balling her fists. “Hey! Speak for yourself. I like my job.”
I open my mouth to defuse the growing storm in Courtney’s eyes when I hear a familiar voice from behind us ask, “Geez, am I going to have to play sibling referee again?”
I turn to see my assistant and best friend, Kaede McWarren.
After high school, we went to college together, him on a football scholarship that helped him get passing grades whether he did the work or not.
After graduation, when the pros didn’t come calling, he realized that he had no concrete plans and coat-tailed it with me to the family company.
Since then, he’s saved my ass countless times and has really found his niche, keeping me in line, offering advice, and being my partner in crime. It might be my name on the door with the fancy title, but I couldn’t do half of what I do without his help.
Courtney blushes, unclenching her fists and ducking her head before she remembers to stand tall. Interesting. “Hello, Kaede.”
“Hey, Courtney,” Kaede says. “You’re not planning to stab your brother with a letter opener or shoot him with a staple gun again, are you?”
Courtney casts a scowl my way. “Not quite . . . but we’re getting there.”
Kaede chuckles. “I showed up just in time, then.”
“And just in time for Courtney to remember she has a long task list to check off before she goes home, lest she end up with one pissed off Daddy CEO,” I say pointedly, nodding in the direction of Father’s office.
Knowing a dismissal when she hears one, Courtney gives me another look that says, ‘We’re not finished.’ “You two have fun. Nice seeing you, Kaede.”
“You too, Courtney.” Kaede watches Courtney go for a moment before turning to me. “Meeting didn’t go too well, I take it?”
I shake my head, continuing into my office.
“We have a problem,” I start as I enter the room, where the city skyline appears before me.
My office is a study in swanky luxury, with floor to ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view, a large dark oak desk positioned in the center of the room, a tufted leather chair that looks like a throne, and a personal wet bar stocked with premium liquor.
Kaede follows me in, closing the door behind him, and walks over to take one of the accented seats in front of my desk.
“Hit me,” he says as he leans back, propping his feet on my desk and crossing his hands on his belly.
He looks like he could be prepping for a nap, and anyone else who dared defile my desk like that would get a tongue-lashing they wouldn’t soon forget, but Kaede and I are casual at work when it’s just the two of us.
Plus, I know that this pose is his version of a ‘thinking hat’.
He’s ready to tackle whatever problem I’ve got with focus and scalpel-like precision.
“Remember that night at Club Red?” I ask, walking over to grab a glass from the wet bar and taking out a bottle of whiskey.
I normally don’t drink at work, the bar is more for show and guests, but this is one of those times that it’s needed.
Taking a sip, I quickly outline the argument with my dad, the gossip spread, and his threats about how I’ll lose my position within the company.
“Fuck, that was the pastor’s wife?” Kaede asks in disbelief when I’m done. “What the hell? She was all over you, pouty and sad and damn near begging for you to make it all better. Why would they be pissed at you and not her?”
“That’s what I’m saying! The rumor isn’t true, but still . . .”
Kaede strokes his chin thoughtfully, already in damage control mode.
“I’ll draft a letter to Joeden Snow,” he mutters as if it’s a foregone conclusion that I’ve already agreed to, “conveying your sincerest apologies for not recognizing his wife, a reassurance that nothing untoward happened, and a promise that you’ll make a considerable donation to certain acceptable charities. ”
“I don’t like it,” I say right away. “It gives that trashy article legitimacy.”
The fact of the matter is, I didn’t do anything with his wife but offer a listening ear, and such a letter would be an admission of guilt.
And for once, I’m not guilty.
But Kaede is already shaking his head. “What you do or do not like, or did or didn’t do, doesn’t matter in this situation.
Also, I’ll suggest that our PR group and Pastor Snow’s put out media releases stating that the evening in question was no more than professional acquaintances having a friendly drink and that you wished Pastor Snow and his wife well when you saw her safely home.
” I glare at him, but he continues before I can say what I’m really thinking.
“Look, going the extra mile will be two-fold. You assuage any ill feelings from Joeden, and your father will appreciate that you took steps to rectify any public damage to the company.”
It rankles my nerves to have to do anything in this situation.
I do what I want.
When I want.
I don’t like people telling me what to do, least of all my father, who’s blowing this whole situation out of proportion to get what he wants. Hell, the shareholder part is probably just made up to reinforce his leverage.
But as much as I hate to admit it, Kaede’s plan has merit.
The man has gotten me out of some very tight situations, and this time will be no different.
I trust his judgement, and as much as I don’t like his plan, if he thinks it will fix the bad press and heal things with Dad, I’m down with doing it.
I look out at the skyline and make my silent decision. All right, you win this time, old man. But I’m only doing this so you lose your bullshit leverage of trying to force me to settle down.
I down my shot of whiskey but freeze when I hear Kaede add, “But . . .”
“What?” I demand, turning to survey him. He’s sitting upright now, both feet on the floor and a tight jaw, a sure sign that I’m not going to like what he’s about to say.
“I think maybe you should do what your dad wants.”
I don’t even have to ask to know what he means.
The truth of the matter is, I’m just not ready to settle down. I’m not the wild child the media thinks, and I’ve even had several relationships, but something’s always missing. When I picture waking up with the same woman day after day, it sounds . . . boring. Monotonous. Predictable.
And I especially can’t see myself just finding someone out of the blue to be with just to appease my parents.
“You can’t be . . .” I begin to say, but the look on Kaede’s face says it all. “Dude!”
“Even if it’s not real,” Kaede insists. “Just someone to give the illusion that you’ve changed and are willing to settle down, someone who can help with your image and calm the shareholders. Call it a . . . relationship of appearances.”
“The shareholder thing is bullshit to get me to do what he wants, and the letter should be enough—”
“It’s not bullshit, actually,” Kaede says, shaking his head.
“And your parents are not going to stop harping on you now that your dad has you backed into a corner. So, let’s pretend for a moment.
We know your ego is too big to do something like this after being threatened, but at the same time, you risk losing your seat on the board . . . so, what do you do?”
“Find a fake girlfriend?” I guess.
Kaede snaps his fingers, sitting back in his chair and grinning. “Bingo.”
I chuckle at the ridiculous notion, even though I’m kind of intrigued by the idea. It definitely would be the perfect revenge on Dad for having the nerve to threaten me. Wouldn’t be so nice for Mom, though, but there’s always some collateral damage in war.
The more I think about it, the more I like it, a host of scenarios playing out in my head. Like K said . . . a relationship of convenience. Hell, maybe even convenience with benefits.
The idea is so amusing that I can’t help but laugh, thinking about what a fool I could make of Dad for daring to cross me.
But I still have doubts, saying, “That’s just crazy.”
But Kaede is already mentally scrolling for candidates.
“Got any contenders?” Kaede asks. “I know a small list of trustworthy women who work on this floor who would love to be your girlfriend, even if it’s just for show.”
I think for a moment, rolling through a Rolodex of faces through my mind. Some of the faces are blurry, some clearer than others. Some of them work under me, and some of them have been under me.
Finally, I shake my head. “No, if we’re going to do this, it can’t be someone at the office.
That’ll just be something else for them to bitch about,” I tell Kaede firmly, seeing their fear of a harassment lawsuit as clear as day.
“And whoever it is, they have to know from the beginning. I’m not willing to play with some poor girl’s feelings for my own ends.
Whoever we find will know exactly what it’s for .
. . but will have to sign a very tight-knit NDA that they’re not to speak of the details behind our relationship when it ends. ”
“Agreed,” Kaede says, running his hand through his hair, lost in thought. “But NDA . . . that’s hard. Law-wise, I mean. Once it’s out, you can’t get that cat back in the bag. It has to be someone trustworthy. So, where are we going to find this chick?”
“She’s out there somewhere,” I mutter, turning to look out the windows at the fading sunset and the city skyline. “We just need to find her.”