The Freeman Brothers: A Secret Baby Romance Collection

by Natasha L. Black

  While it might have been easier for me to just let him handle the conversation with her about the social media campaigns, there was no way I was going to let that happen. She was hired for my company and was creating these campaigns for me, not him. I wanted to be the one to work with her, to get that chance to interact with her. In the back of my mind, I knew that reaction was ridiculous. There was no reason I should be even thinking about how much time she was spending with my brother or what they were talking about. It shouldn’t matter to me how she was getting to know the others in the company. If I was going to think about her relationships with other people in the complex at all, I should be happy she was making friends and feeling at ease. A happy employee was a productive and loyal employee.

  And yet, here I was. Merry obviously wasn’t trying to make me feel jealous. She never did anything that seemed she was trying to catch my attention and force it onto her interaction with my brother, and he never said anything that implied anything about them that was more than just another coworker. But there was still a twinge when I thought of her and when I saw them together. It was stupid, but I had no control over it.

  That might have been what bothered me more than anything. Control was an important thing to me. I liked to control as many aspects of my life as humanly possible, and that definitely applied to my work. Not being able to control how I felt about my social media consultant being friendly with my brother was uncomfortable and strange. Coming up on the first race of the season was stressful enough as it was. I didn’t need the additional stress and pressure of a new team member not sticking to the script and keeping up with my expectations.

  But, again, that really wasn’t Merry’s fault. She didn’t know the expectations, and she wasn’t familiar with what I saw as the company’s set way of operating. She wasn’t doing anything wrong or purposely trying to get a rise out of me. I would just have to keep reminding myself of that. I went over that several times in my mind as I made my way through the building to her office. She was sitting behind her desk, picking her way through a selection of chopped fruit in a clear plastic bowl in front of her as she leaned over her tablet.

  “Don’t you think it would be easier to use a laptop?” I asked.

  Merry jumped slightly and looked up at me. She smiled through swallowing a large chunk of pineapple she’d popped in her mouth just as I walked into the room.

  “No,” she said. “I like looking at it like this. Most of the time people aren’t going to be looking at social media on their computers. I mean, they definitely do, but if they’re out and about, they’re going to have their phone or a tablet. So, I make sure to check the mobile view and what it looks like on different devices.”

  “It’s different?” I asked.

  That was probably a stupid question considering she had literally just explained to me it was.

  “Yes,” Merry said matter-of-factly.

  I nodded through an awkward silence.

  “Well, I came by to tell you we’re having a team meeting, and I want to make sure you’re there. There are some changes coming up for this season, and I want you to stay in the loop so you can keep everything updated,” I said.

  “Sure,” she told me. I stared at her with expectation, and her mouth fell open slightly. “Oh. Now?”

  “Yeah. I was actually headed that way,” I said.

  “Oh. Sorry. Yeah, let me grab my things.”

  She sounded flustered, which I thought was cute in spite of myself. Merry gathered a few things and followed me out of the office. We walked in silence to the meeting room, and when we got there, the rest of the team was already in place.

  “All right,” I said, walking to the head of the table and setting the folder I was holding down in front of me. “The first race is right around the corner, and now it’s time to really buckle down and get ready for the season. I want this to be the best one yet, and that’s going to require hard work from all of us. To that end, I want to talk about the changes to the team. Greg and Darren will both be racing this season. That’s an exciting development for all of us, and I’m really looking forward to seeing how the dynamic plays out. But it’s important everyone realizes this will mean we need all hands on deck.”

  As we talked about the coming season and how we were going to manage having two riders in the races, I glanced over at Merry. I had expected that she wouldn’t know what we were talking about and would probably be confused, but I immediately noticed she was taking notes on her tablet. It made me even more sure of her work ethic, and I liked that. As the meeting broke up, I took a step toward her.

  “Merry, could you stay after for just a bit?” I asked. “I want to discuss everything with you one-on-one.”

  Her eyes widened slightly, but she nodded.

  8

  Merry

  “Sure, no problem.”

  I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to react when Quentin asked me to stay after the team meeting to talk with him. My brain went in several different directions and couldn’t figure out which one to settle on.

  I figured it was a good thing that he was asking me to come to the team meeting. Even if seeing him at the door to my office put more butterflies in my stomach than I would want to admit to. He was my boss.

  I had no business thinking he was as stupidly hot as I thought he was. I’d hoped having that sort of response to him it was just a primal, snap sort of reaction that happened because I wasn’t expecting it.

  At least, that’s what I told myself. I tried to convince myself it would go away, that I would get used to him and soon he would just be another guy working at the complex. Or my brain would wrap itself around the fact that he was my boss and I couldn’t have that attraction to him. But that hadn’t happened yet. Two weeks after starting at Freeman Racing, I was still deep in the throes of thinking the owner of the company was absurdly attractive. Not that I could or would do anything about it, but it constantly hung over me.

  I wasn’t sure I was ready to be alone with him again. It wasn’t just the intense and inappropriate attraction. Quentin still intimidated me. I wasn’t going to admit that, of course, but the idea of working one-on-one with him made my stomach do flips. But I managed to keep that to myself. No matter what was going on in my mind or how I was feeling about him and being alone in a room with him, I was going to woman up and do my job.

  If I pushed aside all of the inconvenient and awkward feelings and emotions going through me, I was actually looking forward to working directly with Quentin and finding out more about the upcoming race. I was excited about seeing my first bike race and finally finding out what all the hype was about. In just the short time I had been managing the social media accounts for the company, I’d learned the fans were truly devoted. I might go so far as to say some were rabid. The races obviously stirred something up in them, and I was excited to find out what that was.

  But there was a lot of work to do before that race came. I had been working on coming up with more ideas on how to ramp up the social media platforms and make them more interesting and appealing. I knew if I did it right, we could pack the stands with even more fans and get them riled up and excited about supporting both Greg and Darren. After everybody left, Quentin looked at me and gestured to one of the chairs closer to him.

  “Thanks for staying. I haven’t had much of a chance to work directly with you, and I wanted to check in with how everything is progressing. Especially with the first race coming up, I want to make sure we’re on the same page,” he said.

  “Everything is going great,” I told him. “I was actually planning on trying to find a time to meet up with you at this week to go over my plans. So, this is perfect.”

  “Great. Why don’t we sit down and go over what you’re thinking, and we’ll see if there’s anything we can tighten up or change…” He hesitated. “Not that I think you aren’t doing your job or that I’m going to tell you how to do it or anything.”

  I shook my head. “I get it.”
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br />   We both let out awkward, somewhat uncomfortable laughs and sat down. I was glad I’d thought to grab my messenger bag and was able to take out files with printouts of my plans. Spreading them out on the table, I started going over them, explaining each approach and how I intended on scheduling the posts and encouraging interaction with followers. Quentin listened with much more attention and interest than I expected him to, even giving insights and suggestions as we went.

  “I think you understand social media better than you think you do,” I told him after a particularly good suggestion that had me rethinking an entire day of posts.

  “Maybe we won’t go that far. But I’m starting to get a hold of it a little better,” he admitted.

  Before I could say anything else, my stomach made a loud rumbling sound. I laughed and looked down at the time. I hadn’t realized we had been sitting there for more than an hour already.

  “Apparently I’m hungry,” I said.

  “Apparently.” My stomach growled again, and he laughed.

  “All right, all right, I believe you,” he said.

  I started gathering all the papers from the table. “Why don’t we leave this for now and pick it up again later? It’s getting late. Everybody is probably gone by now. I know you don’t want to keep hanging out here talking about this stuff into the night.”

  “Do you have somebody waiting for you at home?” he asked.

  My mouth fell open slightly, and I looked over at him. “What?”

  “I just meant you seem eager to rush off. I was just wondering if that’s because you have somebody you want to get home to,” he clarified.

  The heat coming up on my cheeks embarrassed me even more, but I covered it by looking into my bag like I was checking for something.

  “No,” I told him. “No one at home waiting for me. I just figured you spend so much time around here as it is, you wouldn’t want to be kept here all night going over stuff you don’t like anyway. I can just bring all your comments and suggestions home with me, work on it some more, and we’ll meet up again.”

  “Like I said, I’m getting used to the social media stuff. And I’m seeing how important it truly is to our brand. Why don’t we just order some dinner and keep going?” he suggested. “I mean, if you’re okay with that?”

  Before I even responded, he’d pulled out his phone and dialed a number that seemed extremely familiar to him. I had the feeling this was not the first time he had called that particular number to bring food to the office.

  Half an hour later, he left the meeting room to meet with the delivery driver and came back with two huge bags of food. He spread out a pile of individually wrapped street-style tacos, chips, and guacamole, then went to the breakroom and came back with drinks. The food smelled incredible, and it took all the control I could muster not to just throw myself headlong into the pile and eat my way out. I did manage to keep my composure and selected only one of the tacos. But I couldn’t hold back the groan when I took my first bite.

  “Good?” Quentin asked.

  “It’s delicious,” I told him.

  “My favorite restaurant for takeout,” he said. “More often than not, if I’m here at the office late and want some dinner, this is what I’m getting.”

  “I can see why. It’s a good choice,” I told him.

  We looked over at each other, and I felt another flutter. Dragging my eyes away from him, I took another massive bite of taco to distract me and went back to rambling about the plans. It was a pleasant surprise that while Quentin clearly wasn’t going to become a social media convert anytime soon, he was open to what I had to say and accepted it was going to work for him. By the time we finished eating and had gone over everything several times, I felt one hundred percent more comfortable with him and with our working relationship. Maybe it really was possible for us to get along and to work together effectively.

  I left the office three hours later than I usually would, which meant my phone was already blowing up when I got to my car.

  “Where have you been?” my best friend, Olivia, demanded when I answered.

  “Working,” I told her. “Like a responsible adult.”

  “Do you realize what time it is?” she asked.

  “I know. There was a meeting that ran late. I’ll meet you at the bar. Be there soon.”

  Olivia and I had made plans to meet up a few days before, but I’d honestly forgotten about it when Quentin asked if someone was home waiting for me. The question was so unexpected, and it seemed so personal it made my mind go blank. But as soon as I saw her name on my phone, the plans popped back into my head and I felt guilty for keeping her waiting. It had been a while since the two of us had a chance to hang out together. Olivia had been off on a trip with her parents spending time with her family before school started up again. She was a high school art teacher who had me in constant awe.

  We met up at a bar near my apartment, and I found her already sitting at a table with two beers and a massive plate of nachos. I dropped down into the seat across from her and took a swig of my beer.

  “That kind of day?” Olivia asked.

  I eyed the nachos, thinking about the tacos I’d eaten with Quentin not too long before.

  “Long couple of weeks,” I said.

  She wrapped her hand around her beer, and I knew she was prepared. I dove in and told her all about my new job, the complex, and, maybe especially, Quentin.

  9

  Quentin

  When I had looked for a plot of land to build my house on, I had purposefully chosen one with a good amount of distance from neighbors. I worked in a loud and often chaotic business and when I was home, I wanted peace and quiet.

  The longer I lived in the house, however, I realized the real benefit of not living close to neighbors wasn’t for me, it was for those potential neighbors. As I stood in the kitchen putting together a platter of snacks, I cringed at the loud voices coming through the sliding doors from the backyard. I didn’t understand how my three brothers and my parents could manage to sound like a frat party, especially considering the sound had to come up a flight of steps and across a large deck to get in the kitchen.

  It was family night, and as usual, everyone was gathered at my house. I loved having them there. Really, I did. But that night I was having trouble settling into the relaxation and enjoyment of just spending time with them. My nerves felt frazzled and worn, and stress and anxiety were pumping along my veins. It wasn’t a completely foreign feeling. With the first race of the season coming up, I anticipated being somewhat off my game. I always felt a bit on edge before a race, especially the first race of the season, was coming up. As much as I loved the racing industry and thrived on the adrenaline and fun of races, there was the unavoidable stress and anticipation that came along with them.

  This season, I was going to be worried about Greg as well as Darren. Whenever races were looming, I started thinking about everything that could happen, all the logistics that had to fall into place to make sure the race went smoothly and safely. By the time the race came, I’d have worried myself out and would be ready to just kick back and have a good time, but that was still a bit away.

  But this time it was different. Usually having a family night would reduce my stress and make me feel better. Spending time with my brothers and my parents always helped to ease anxiety.

  That wasn’t happening that night. Having them around not only wasn’t making me feel better, but it seemed to be pushing me further and I hated that.

  Carrying the plate of snacks and two beers, I walked out of my house and headed down to the fire burning in the yard below. The temperature was sticky and hot that day, without even a slight breeze to break it up. Not my usual summer evening I enjoyed so much. I had brought down deck chairs and set them up further away from the flames so the heat was less intense. I sat down and set the beers and snacks on a folding table beside me. Taking a deep swig of the beer, I watched the flames jump in front of me, hoping something would cli
ck in my head and I’d get out of the funk I was feeling.

  A few minutes later, Nick came up and took the chair next to me. He followed my stare and looked into the flames for a few seconds before turning back to me. I continued to ignore my brother, really not feeling like talking. To one side, the other two brothers were playing lawn darts in a way I was fairly certain would result in an emergency room visit, and to the other, my parents were pretending to be casual and not worrying about their grown sons, but occasionally shouting at them to be careful. I didn’t want to deal with any of it and stayed quiet. Maybe if I just stayed that way for long enough, Nick would get the hint and leave me alone. It wasn’t that I necessarily wanted my family away from the house, but I also wasn’t feeling especially social.

  I should have known better. Nick was the closest to me of my three brothers, and he could always tell when something was bothering me. He was also always the first one to ask me about it. The others might try to be subtle and give me space, but not Nick. He had absolutely no qualms about prying into my thoughts, which was exactly what he did then.

  “Penny for your thoughts, old man?” he asked.

  It was a joke we’d carried on between us from the time I was a teenager. I was never shy about pointing out the privileges that came along with me being the oldest. I had a later curfew, got to drive first, had the first girlfriend of the brothers. But it didn’t take long for Nick to take that and turn it into taunting me about being old. That only got worse when I dedicated myself to the company. According to him, the work made me stuffy and inflexible, a grumpy old man before my time. He appointed himself officially responsible for cutting through the grump. Usually he could. But that night I didn’t even know where to start.

  “If I knew what was up, I’d tell you,” I said and took another sip of my beer.