Chapter 29
C HRIS SAT INSIDE his father’s study. He had not endured a stare-down competition such as this since voicing his desire to pursue interests outside the family business when he was nineteen. All he’d done was walk into his father’s office to explain why he canceled their round of golf this afternoon. No longer thirteen, and too tired from the day for these chastising games, Chris threw his towel in the ring and proceeded to leave.
“Before you go”—Chauncy’s full kingmaker tone gave Chris pause—“what is the Andrews girl to you?”
Chris faced his father. He hadn’t validated a friendship since middle school. Then again, none of those kids were children of his father’s business rival. “I don’t understand your question.”
“I think you do, Christopher.” His father got up and came from around his desk, meeting Chris where he stood. He looked him square in the face. “I tried ignoring your… response to her that day we went to their home. The way you watched her, almost came out of your seat over Trenton’s remarks, and then seemed out of sorts on the ride back home.”
His father moved past him to the wet bar and poured a glass of cognac. “Video surveillance showed her at the office as far back as a month. So I ask you again. What is she to you?”
Chris carefully watched the man who taught him how to play chess. It was like they were sitting at the board and his father had moved his king’s pawn, and then he did the same, hasty to shorten the game. This time Chauncy played the queen’s knight and was patiently waiting to checkmate him.
Almost two weeks had passed since Chris had sat in the Andrews house, and over a month since Carrah first ventured to his office in search of help. Although he no longer cared about the forces that deemed the Chennaults and Andrewses as rivals, Carrah did. He wouldn’t be goaded into exposing her against her will.
“She is nothing to me.” The lie strangled him. Carrah was something. He just hadn’t worked through what that was yet. “What are you looking for me to say, Dad?”
“The truth,” he replied pointedly then sipped from his glass. “The two of you had lunch from the Lucky Dill on Monday, and then today takeout from Mama’s Place. I believe there was also a coffee run and a convenient dinner gathering for Roland’s daughter the other night.”
Chris’s throat was dry, his vision blurred. This was the behavior that had taken his mother to an early grave. The anxiety in his gut twisted in pain. “Are you seriously having me followed?”
“There is a multimillion-dollar deal at stake. Her family’s finances are in ruins and you are the heir. Like it or not, one day you will run this company.”
“That is not what I want. We had a deal—Mother—”
“Your mother is no longer here with us, son,” his father yelled. “She’s gone and you’re all I have left.”
“That’s. Not. True.” Chris raised his voice a decibel. “There is Miles. Chloe and Carter.”
His father scoffed and slammed his glass down. “Miles is not my son. Your brother and sister are far from ready, thanks to you.” Their gazes met. “I delayed them learning the business for fear that they might abandon me like you did.”
“Jesus, Dad, stop criminalizing the choices I’ve made.” He refused to control the tone or the volume of his voice out of parental respect. “While I understand your sentiments on Carter and Clo, I’m not to blame. They were old enough to see Mom work until she collapsed across her bed countless nights. There were even times that she wouldn’t take her meds for fear that she would fail her fiduciary duty to the company. Her weight to prove herself to you and Grandmother was too much to bear. My brother and sister blame Chennault as much as I do.” He balled his fists.
Chauncy grabbed his chest. He took a winded breath before his knees buckled underneath. Chris darted to his side and caught him. “Help!” he shouted.
“Shh…” His father blew as he sat in the winged back chair. “I’m fine. My pressure, it’s been high lately, and this talk about your mother…” He sighed.
“Your pressure?” Chris waved Ms. Watson and Carter away as they entered the room. “Maybe I should be the one asking if there’s something you need to tell me.”
A weak chuckle escaped Chauncy. “Cut it, smart guy.”
Chris took the seat beside his father. He sat for a few minutes until the empty desk in front of them became too much after what had just happened. He got back up and kneeled at his father’s side. “You can’t quit on me yet, old man.” They both laughed. “I know you’re not one for promises. However, can you reconsider your position on Miles? I don’t want to lead Chennault, Dad.”
A grimace flattened Chauncy’s lips before he looked away from Chris. “That is more complicated than you’ll ever know.”
“You helped raise him. He’s like my brother.”
“Only he isn’t.” Chauncy pushed on both armrests and got to his feet, and Chris did the same. Chauncy took another deep breath. “In the meantime, sow your oats with the Andrews girl if you must. But be careful—the women of that family are known to trap things.”
It was an unflattering characterization he thought. He wouldn’t debate it, but hopefully he could alter his father’s prejudiced viewpoint. “A person desperate to escape doesn’t set traps.”
“They are the worst ones.”
The stare down they began with was how they ended. Except this time it was more warning than reprimand. Either way after he checked to ensure his father felt fine, he hurried out. When the door closed behind him, he texted Carrah.
Escape with me
Where are we going?
He smiled then texted, You tell me
Surprise me
Meet me in 30?
More like an hour. I’ve been summoned for a family meeting (:
(: Just had one of those. Message me when you’re done.
okay
Minutes floated by before Carrah eased off her cloud. She refocused back on her computer, where her hand began trembling as it hovered above the keyboard. She sucked in a deep breath and then pressed send on an email back to her agent committing to revised deadlines. There was no turning back now.
The alarm on her phone rang. She closed her laptop and scrambled downstairs. She was second to the table behind Dominic. Her mouth fell open and then she narrowed her eyes on him. Rarely did he engage in family business unless there was something he wanted.
“What you want, Nic?” No need to hesitate understanding her brother’s motivation for being present on an evening that he could be out with friends or one of the many girls who had been chasing him.
“Nothing much.” His lips pressed for a second. “Just need Dad to get off my ass. I flunked a class and now he’s pissed. Talkin’ ’bout cutting my monthly stipend.” He scoffed. “I never asked to be an attorney. Maybe I liked mixing shit together like you.”
“You’re bad at math.”
He shrugged. “Don’t matter. I should’ve had a choice. Didn’t you? Beauty queen or chemist?”
Carrah almost fibbed like she did when they were little to make him feel better about the control their parents wielded over them with an iron fist. Maybe if she told him that chemistry had been the exit plan he’d feel better about the space he was in. Only, her genius in science and math had trapped her more than she’d ever imagined. She hoped her brother wouldn’t meet the same fate.
Doubtful, given that they were sitting at a table at five o’clock in the evening for a business meeting instead of summering in the Shores.
Nic’s confession triggered the realization that she had never once stopped to consider the choices stricken from her siblings. Maybe if they’d rebelled, the expectation to conform would be less overwhelming.
“You must want something!” Aubrey giggled, staring at Dominic as she crossed the room and came over to the table with her husband.
Before Dominic could reply, the rest of their clan excitedly marched in, chatting away along with the company attorney and claimed seats at the table. For a second, it didn’t seem they were here for business since Aubrey shared her excursion to the zoo with Zoe, followed by each family member highlighting their day. Of course, Carrah didn’t confess that she had snuck off with Chris early in the morning for their London Fog run at the café. Instead she lied, and used Ava as a cover since their mothers were not chatty.
Perhaps if the joint venture was approved, the rival lines she and Chris stood behind could be erased. It would be nice not to hide from a relationship they both seemed eager to discover.
A quick pivot to the necessary business at hand was made by her father. His position remained the same as it had the last few times they’d gathered to discuss details of the venture. Albeit cautious, he affirmed it was the only way to ensure the longevity of Noir. Beau, on the other hand, still disagreed for two reasons. The first, he was uncomfortable that Olina Chennault was investing a bit more. Second, he had reservations with only Carrah communicating and collaborating with Miles to bring the product to life.
All eyes shifted to Carrah. She didn’t know if it was her big brother’s heavy-handed comment or the unspoken question she knew they wanted to ask: Would she be able to finalize the serum? Truth be told, she had little bandwidth to coddle her brother’s insecurities. Most important, she had to finalize the serum before her planned exit.
Chris might frown upon her revised deadline schedule. Only, Carrah knew Noir depended on her. She had to see this through before fully embracing something that was hers and hers alone.
“What exactly do you need from me?” She schooled her face to appear the epitome of Miss Congeniality.
“Your cooperation in working with Chauncy’s nephew is a must,” her father replied pointedly. “I hear he is as genius as you are alchemically.”
Her mother’s tongue clicked like the old Creole women who sat on their front porches while gossiping. “Did you know Hannah had a son?” Her gaze sliced into Melvin.
“Not until a week ago.” Melvin rubbed his neck. A thought appeared to cross his mind, but then he tucked it away. “At any rate, Carrah, you’ll need to allow Miles a chance to review your research, including the notes we exchanged as you were attempting to coagulate the integrity of the formula. Chauncy mentioned that Miles studies interactions at the molecular level and reverse engineers. Perhaps you’ll learn something from him that we can use later, after the venture is complete. For now, focus on working together to make the blockbuster product we need.”
Carrah scoffed. “Reverse engineering? That takes time.” More than what she planned to give after her sacrifices to the company.
“In my father’s infinite wisdom, he had the foresight to see we may hit a stumbling block. Attorney Peters”—Camille gestured to Mr. Ben sitting a few chairs from her—“informed me of a fund that was created for situations such as this. We will give BSB their money, fund the venture, and use PR to build anticipation. We have more time than we did yesterday.” Her mother’s sigh matched the vacant expression resting atop her face. Carrah would need to ask if she was feeling okay. Camille had that look she wore when she battled for her life last year.
Aubrey slowly raised her hand and waited for their father to acknowledge her. “Will the Butlers go away so easy? It wasn’t simply the money.” Her sight slid to Carrah.
Carrah bit her tongue, looking in the opposite direction of her sister. What was her endgame? Because the way Aubrey presented her question contradicted the sisterly bond they shared.
Carrah leaned into the table to tell her sister to go to hell with gasoline panties on when Dominic sat up in his chair, clearing his throat.
“Time-out.” He gestured the same with his hands. “Ole boy been hopping from bed to bed since we been here. I’m a saint compared to Trent. My sister deserves better, and if he thinks otherwise, the public can decide. Press of his philandering ways will make his political run hard.”
“Thanks, Nic.” Carrah reached over and squeezed his hand, and he did the same in return.
“Agreed,” Camille chided. “Melvin, make sure you give the news to Sandra yourself… or is that something else you’d like to do behind my back?”
Shock rushed through the room, tapping Carrah and her siblings on the shoulder before they watched their mother get up and leave without another word. Oddly, their father didn’t follow. He reclined back in his chair, face turned to the ceiling, ignoring that they were in the room.
Carrah tried to care. She didn’t. She slipped into the void left by her mother and sprang from the room. After grabbing a few things, she texted Chris.
Done. Meet?
She held her breath, hoping he still wanted to link up. Three little dots popped up.
An uber will be to you in ten minutes. It will bring you to me.
A smile filled her cheeks until they hurt. She replied okay, and then took off. She couldn’t wait to see him.