Chapter 2
STERLING
I hadn’t expected to nearly run over a woman this morning. That had very much not been on my schedule for today, and if there was one thing I stuck to, it was the schedule. I’d practically been born with a meticulously planned day ahead and I never took unnecessary detours.
Unless, it seemed, an out of control BMW almost flattened a woman right in front of me, forcing me to slam on the brakes.
As I’d watched, he’d narrowly missed the strawberry blonde nobody, sending her sprawling across the street like a baby gazelle who didn’t have her balance just yet, the entire contents of her purse exploding across the asphalt.
The inevitable delay that had followed had already put me in a mood.
The fact that she’d been pretty didn’t help. Not beautiful, but pretty in that girl-next-door, American Sweetheart kind of way, frazzled and looking up at me with those soft gray eyes like I’d just descended from the clouds to rescue her from death and mascara smudges.
She’d smiled at me. Actually smiled . Like I was the man she’d been waiting for or some shit.
Naturally, I’d given her back her keys, told her to watch where she was going, and gotten back in the car before she could mistake my silence for flirtation.
I didn’t have time for pretty women with no common sense .
Standing in the drawing room of my father’s estate, I was reminded of why I preferred the office. At least spreadsheets don’t sigh at you like disappointed ghosts.
“Master Sterling, would you like some tea while you wait?” Garvey asked from behind a silver tray, like a relic of times long past.
“No, thank you,” I said, my tone sharper than I’d intended.
His brow twitched. Garvey had been here since before I was born. He’d helped raise me and my brothers while our parents had been building the family empire—and making connections at their beloved country club.
And yet, I couldn’t seem to stop being short with him today.
I blamed the girl. And the traffic. And the looming feeling that this meeting wasn’t about anything good.
“Very well,” Garvey said, his voice stern but professional. “You may wait in the office.”
I should’ve apologized for snapping at him, but I didn’t.
Although he was hired help, he’d often put us in our places if he felt like us boys were stepping out of line.
Since he hadn’t firmly pointed out how very untoward I’d been acting, I took my usual seat in the old library-turned-office and waited for my father.
The books on the shelves lining the walls were all first editions dating back to the mid-eighteen fifties. It was a testament to my family’s history that we owned a collection like this and the sight of it sent a surge of determination through me—and pride.
We were the Westwoods, and whatever I’d been called here for, good or not, was important.
Eventually, my dad stepped into the room, all calm authority and quiet confidence. My father didn’t stride anywhere—he arrived. With intention. Like he was hosting a press conference even when it was just me waiting.
“Sterling,” he said warmly, the ice blue eyes I’d inherited from him sweeping across my face like it’d been years instead of days since he’d last seen me. “Thanks for coming.”
“Wasn’t much of a choice,” I muttered. “You summoned me like a medieval lord. Did someone die?”
“Come on now,” he said, chuckling as he took the seat across from mine. “You know I don’t call you out here unless it’s important.”
As I’d expected, then. I nodded, watching him closely for any hints as to what it might be. “So, why am I here instead of at the office making us all rich?”
He leaned back, a gleam entering his eyes. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately.” That never boded well, and especially not when he added, “About the future of the company. Of the family. Of both.”
My heart picked up just slightly. This was it, the thing I’d worked for every single day since I’d been old enough to understand the difference between assets and liabilities.
“You’re stepping down,” I concluded for him. “You’re finally retiring?”
He nodded slowly and refocused on me, his gaze trained on mine like a missile locked on its target. “I am. It’s time.”
I sat up straighter. “You’re naming me CEO.”
A smile spread across his face, proud, warm, and frustratingly patient. “Yes, but on one condition.”
Of course. There’s always something. “What condition?”
He folded his hands together, like he was preparing to break it to me gently. “You’ve built a career, a reputation, but you haven’t built a life.”
“Dad—”
“Let me finish,” he said. “I know how hard you’ve worked and you’ll make a damn fine CEO, but the company isn’t just about the actual acquisitions or what we do with them. It’s about legacy, Sterling. Our legacy. What our family has built over generations and will leave to those who come after us.”
I blinked—for the first time ever in a negotiation. “Those who come after us. You’re talking about my offspring. Children. But I’d need a wife for that, so what? You want me to start dating?”
“Dating?” He looked mildly horrified. “Dating’s a disaster these days, my boy. People swipe left if you don’t own a dog, and you don’t own a dog. Nor should you while you’re never home. It would be a disservice to the animal.”
I couldn’t help but let out a short laugh. “Okay, but if dating’s such a disaster, I’m not exactly sure what you’re suggesting. Do any of your friends have connections to mail order bride companies?”
I wasn’t the kind of man to have a bunch of children by different mothers running around.
I refused to waste my time dating and sowing my wild oats while I had no intention of settling down.
If I had any interest in getting married and having a family, I’d be a traditionalist, the kind who believed in till death do us part and all that other stupid stuff.
“An arranged marriage isn’t a bad idea,” he mused out loud, as if it’d been my idea. “I had one. As did my father and his father before him. It keeps things clean. All business.”
Oh please. My parents were madly in love and they always had been.
I didn’t expect that for myself at all, but I did want to head up the company.
The last thing I wanted to deal with was my parents giving up on me and donating their vast estate to some charity—or worse, giving the company to one of my brothers.
As the oldest Westwood, it was my birthright. Dad and I had had this conversation before, though. Many times actually. The only difference was that this time, he actually seemed serious. I stared across the desk at him.
“An arranged marriage.” I let the words hang between us for a moment. “Is that really what we’re talking about here? In modern day California, in a family that is not royalty, nor ever has been.”
Dad sighed. “You’ll still have a say in who you choose, Sterling. I’m not asking you to marry a stranger. All I’m asking is for you to be open to the idea that love, and legacy, can be built with intention.”
“And if I’m not open to it?”
He hesitated just long enough to make his meaning clear.
“I am going to retire by next summer. Exactly one year from now. Get married and have a baby within that time, and the company is yours. We have a reputation for being a family business and there can’t be a Westwood and Sons without any sons, right? ”
I sat back in my chair, letting that sink in. This morning, I’d nearly run over a woman. Now my father was offering me the company of my dreams—in exchange for a wife. I should’ve stayed at the fucking office where the world makes sense. Everyone out in the world has lost their damn minds.
The mighty Harlan Westwood had made his decision, though. I saw it in the slant of his chin and the sudden sharpness of his jaw. He wasn’t joking about this—and he wasn’t about to change his mind. I gave him a swift nod and stood up.
“Is that all?”
“Isn’t it enough?” he returned easily, eyes never leaving mine. “Thank you for coming, Sterling. I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
I’m not, I thought, but didn’t say. Grumbling on my way out the door, I stopped to kiss my mother on the cheek just as she was returning from the country club.
As bubbly as she was beautiful, Cecilia Westwood was a force to be reckoned with all unto her own. I’d never quite understood how she’d ended up in an arranged marriage. With her icy blonde hair and hazel eyes, she was the ringleader of her little band of rich friends.
I loved her dearly, but I knew she was as desperate as my father for me to produce an heir, to whom I would eventually pass the torch. Besides, complaining to my mommy wasn’t quite my style. I’d leave that to my youngest brother, Harrison.
“Darling,” she cooed, catching my face in her hands like I was still four years old. “How’s my golden boy doing?”
“I don’t know. Who’s your golden boy?”
She laughed and let go of me, her green-brown eyes shimmering with humor. “You’re my firstborn. I’d like to think you know me well enough to know the answer to that question.”
I made a noncommittal noise at the back of my throat and glanced at my watch. “It was good to see you, Mom. I’m afraid I’m about to run late again.”
“Anything but that,” she teased lightly, but tossed her hand up in a wave of her fingers and swept past me, heading for Dad’s office, undoubtedly to share the latest gossip she’d picked up at the club.
I ran a hand through my hair and inhaled to collect myself, then strode across their cavernous foyer to the door and to my car. Once I was in it and putting the estate in my rearview mirror, I decided to do the same with the conversation I’d just had with my father.
Before I could do anything else, I had to check in with the office and, more specifically, with Nathan. He was one of our account executives at work and he’d been working on a deal I wanted an update on.
“Hey, man,” he said when he picked up. “I know why you’re calling and I’ve got good news. I closed the deal with the bratty influencer. The majority share is ours.”
I sighed. “At least something is going my way today. Thanks, Nate. I’ll see you in a few. Get the team together. I’ve been looking forward to sinking my teeth into this one and I’m just about ready to get started.”