Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jameson
“I’m taking Monique’s office, Jameson.”
I turn to see my brother standing behind me.
If I cared about the glass desk and stellar view of the city that the office offers, I’d fight him for it.
I’m content with any desk, and I lived in Manhattan long enough that I know what the city has to offer.
I don’t need to glance out a window for a reminder of that.
“Fine,” I toss that one word back at Holden.
“Fine?” he repeats like he’s weighing the word to determine if it holds any honesty.
“Yeah, fine,” I repeat, prolonging this ridiculous exchange by a second too long.
“Good.” He nods. “Since you’ve been out of town for a few years, I’ll have someone bring you up to speed.”
As thrilling as that sounds, I’m not letting him off that easy. “You’ll bring me up to speed.”
He barks out a humorless laugh. “I’m not doing that.”
“You are,” I say evenly. “Grandmother wanted us to work together, so that starts now.”
I’d much rather have my fingernails pulled out with a set of pliers than sit in any office with him for more than two minutes, but I don’t trust him to appoint anyone to ‘bring me up to speed.’ Everyone who works at Carden Confectionaries is bound to be loyal to Holden.
I witnessed that myself when I approached the reception desk thirty minutes ago.
The guy manning it tossed me a smug look and whispered, “Look what the cat dragged in,” when he spotted me.
I didn’t take it to heart because he’s still stuck working the same position he was when I bailed on this place.
“You’re serious?” Holden asks with a perk of his left eyebrow.
“Deadly,” I snap back. “I’ll be in your office in an hour.”
Holden glances down the long corridor that leads to both of our offices.
Every high-ranking executive in the company works on this floor.
I called an office around the corner my corporate home for years when I was the head of the sales department.
It was a stone’s throw away from Denia’s office.
She chose one of the smaller ones because my grandfather had mentioned it was his favorite at one time.
That was back in the day when they ran the company together.
They were equal partners in business and life.
“Two hours.” Holden glances at his watch. “Give me two hours, Jameson.”
If he needs an extra sixty minutes to prepare, I won’t complain. “All right.”
He turns toward the corridor, but suddenly glances over his shoulder at me. “I fucking hate this. You know that, right?”
I adjust the tie around my neck. I’m wearing the same suit I wore to Dwight’s wedding.
Since I had no idea I’d be staying in Manhattan, I need to hit up the Berdine shop later today to order a few essentials, including several tailored suits, shirts, some ties, and a more comfortable pair of shoes than the ones I’m wearing.
Ironically, it was Holden who took me to the high-end clothing store years ago. I was impressed when we walked into Berdine, and the entire staff knew him by name.
I hold my brother’s gaze with mine. “I wouldn’t have chosen this either, but Grandmother wanted it this way, so get used to it.”
With a brisk shake of his head, he sets off down the corridor.
Once he’s out of view, I close my eyes and tilt my head back. “I know you had your reasons, Grandmother. I have no fucking clue what they are, but this is a hoop I’ll jump through for you.”
I open my eyes and glance around, thankful no one else is in sight.
I can’t blame any of them. Once word got around the company that my brother and I would be acting as co-CEOs, people realized the smart thing to do was to hide in their offices until the initial tension dies down.
I don’t know if that’ll happen, but I want my stake in this company, so I’ll do what I need to do to get through the next year working side-by-side with Holden.
“You’re still alive.” Kalon smiles when he approaches me on the sidewalk.
I laugh. “Don’t tell me you doubted whether I could hold my own against my brother.”
“I have five brothers,” he reminds me. “I know how hard it can be not to drive a fist into one of their jaws on any random day.”
I slap his shoulder. “This is why we’re still friends. You get me.”
“I get you?” he repeats. “I get that you need more than one suit. That’s why I’m tagging along on this little shopping expedition. You need advice on what cuts it in the boardroom these days, James.”
I glance at the navy blue suit he’s wearing. He’s paired it with a crisp white button-down shirt and a light blue tie. “That cuts it?”
His left hand skims a path over his chest. “It does.”
“I hate suits,” I confess. “But you already know that.”
Chuckling, he points toward the left. “Let’s get this over with then. We’ll hit up Berdine, get your work wardrobe in tiptop shape, and then grab a steak and beer.”
My plan was to head back to my grandmother’s penthouse for dinner. Even though Sinclair wants nothing to do with me, I want to see her. I need to know that she’s all right after our heated discussion last night.
Kalon pats my cheek with his palm. “Stop daydreaming about your roommate, James.”
I shake my head. “I’m not.”
He studies my face as people stream past us on the crowded sidewalk. “You can’t bullshit me.”
I’ve got no response to that, so I let out a heavy exhale since I’m busted.
“Did you talk to Sinclair about whatever the fuck went down between you two?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I admit. “It didn’t go well.”
“You knew it wouldn’t,” he shoots back. “It’s a marathon, not a sprint. Eventually, you two will find common ground.”
I glance in the direction we need to head. “You sound so sure of yourself.”
“I am,” he says with confidence. “You’re stuck living together now, so eventually, you’ll iron out your differences. Why the fuck do you think your grandmother structured her living trust the way she did?”
“To torture me?” I deadpan.
“That’s part of it, but she wanted you and Sinclair to get past whatever tore you two apart.”
“How the hell do you know that?”
He shakes his head. “It’s obvious. She forced you to live with Sinclair, just like she forced you to work with Holden. Denia wanted you to mend all the broken fences you left behind, so do that for her.”
“That’s easier said than done.” I gesture toward the subway stop half a block away. “We’re heading to Berdine now.”
“All right,” he says, exasperation edging his tone. “Check your ego, and make nice with Sin and Holden. All right?”
“Sure,” I say, not convinced that I can do either for more than a few hours at a time. “Less talking, Kalon, and more moving. You promised me a steak and a beer after this, remember?”
He perks both eyebrows. “Did I say I was buying?”
“Of course, you’re buying.” I pat his shoulder. “You’re a goddamn Beaumont.”