Thanks, Dad!
“I suppose I’m not the only one who likes to keep things in the family.” He looks between Ross, Kaede, and me as if that’s somehow funny.
I laugh politely, smiling warmly at Kaede, who is looking at me evenly. Though his face is blank, the mask of calm, cool, collected he likes to wear, I can see the questions in his dark eyes. What the hell, woman?
My eyes speak back. I got this.
We take our seats around the table, a couple on each side with Jeffrey and Missy taking the head and foot of the table. Even though the room’s huge, the table’s been squeezed down, removing just enough leaves to make this seem like an intimate family affair while not spreading us out too much.
I want to chuckle at the whole show of it.
This isn’t a friendly family dinner or friends getting together. That’s what we do over pizza while Abi and Archie argue over watching another episode of Project Runway, or in the backyard with Dad’s gigantic brick barbecue while Ross and Kaede challenge each other to cannonball competitions, splashing everyone while we try to catch some rays.
This? This is the guys’ future on the line. Yes, the papers are signed, and the deal’s done . . . in theory. But there are plenty of clauses in that contract that would let Jeffrey take his ball and leave the sandbox. Nobody with his reputation would go into a business deal without having at least one or two parachutes he could pull if he wanted. I read them all and highlighted them to Kaede. Of course, he knew all about them, but we’d still discussed the potential ramifications of each one. The main one being without Sanders’s ball, aka money, the sandbox is amazing but is going to struggle to grow beyond the single location.
Of course, those escape clauses work both ways. Ross and Kaede could get out of it too, if it came down to it. But they worked so hard to get this deal and Jeffrey is the one they want, so that’s off the table.
Tonight’s goal is simple—keep Jeffrey interested. No small feat for a man with more money than God and who can flit from one business prospect to another as easily as other people choose between chicken or beef for dinner. In some ways, he’s harder to impress than Dad.
As the house staff bring out the drinks and the first course, it also feels like all eyes are on Kaede and me—evaluating, analyzing, calculating. Ross seems torn, probably relieved at how natural Kaede and I are together but also seeing how comfortable we are with each other and likely connecting dots that I’ve overstepped in a major way with his best friend.
Meanwhile, Missy is downright cold, viciously eyeing me like she might feed me to the swans out back so she can slink into my place. She’s seated at the ‘lady of the table’ position at my right, and I’m thankful this table’s so damn big that there’s a decent gap between us or else I might be worried her knife would ‘slip’. Right into my back.
And Jeffrey is looking at Missy like she hung the moon and stars and he’d do anything to make his daughter happy.
All in all, dinner is already awkward as hell, and we’ve only had crab-stuffed mushroom caps, which I thought were quite delicious but Violet and Missy barely picked at.
“So, gentlemen, how have things been at the gym?” Jeffrey asks as he sips his wine. Violet is sticking to her lemon water, but thankfully, nobody’s mentioned that.
Kaede answers, “The numbers show that our market reach has increased nearly ten percent this month, a more than respectable uptick—”
Jeffrey interrupts. “Yes, yes. I saw the report. I meant . . . more personally. What’s happening on the floor, how your workouts are going, what is that delightful Kayla up to?”
Ross and Kaede glance at each other in confusion across the table, but I chime in, saving them. I know small talk and am damn good at turning light nothings into weighted somethings.
“Kayla is amazing, isn’t she? She competed recently and placed first, which solidified her national rank.” Ross blinks and looks at me like I’ve grown a second head. Kaede leans back, relaxed, and lets me work. “Don’t tell Kayla I said this” —I smile as if I’m imparting national security secrets— “but I think my favorite is Stacylynne.”
Jeffrey smiles conspiratorially. “Zumba? Oh, yes, Ross mentioned his sister takes classes.”
I nod, looking at Ross again like I’m such a proud sister that he recalled my likes and dislikes. “I love it. Though I recently promised my sister that I’d take a yoga class with her. She’s a bit of a yogi, while my favorite pose is the nap at the end.”
Jeffrey chuckles.
The guys seem to have caught on to my tactics, talking up the gym in a friendly way that seems completely casual.
The Psychology of Business and How to Make it Work For You. I loved that book.
“AJ pulled some PRs out of me lately too,” Kaede chimes in. “Earlier this week, I put up some squat numbers I haven’t seen since college. I wanted to celebrate, but AJ told me that just means I can do even more.”
“I didn’t know that,” Ross says, eating his last mushroom. “How big you talking?”
“Five seventy-five,” I tell Ross. “I was there.”
That throws Ross off, and he has to take a sip of water. “Maybe I need to hit a sesh with AJ too. I usually hit my reps and just check in with him every few weeks.”
Missy jumps in, glad to have something to talk about. “Oh, I love AJ. He’s such a help with the TRX. He really gets in there and makes you stretch out those sore muscles.” She looks at Kaede over her glass of wine, somehow managing to sip and smirk at the same time without spitting it everywhere. She’s obviously talking about something in particular, but I don’t know what. With her, I can only imagine.
Jeffrey hums, inviting himself for a session. “Maybe I’ll hit up a training with you, Ross? I won’t be doing impressive stunts like five hundred pounds, but a few reps of something lighter wouldn’t hurt, right?”
Ross nods, giving Jeffrey a smile. “That’d be great. Anytime, let me know.”
Our main dishes come out, beef Wellington with sautéed kale, mashed sweet potatoes, and some fancy fruit salad that I think is mostly dragon fruit and lychee. Obviously, somebody had their personal chef look up a bunch of superfoods, then gave them that one-percenter twist. Thankfully, I happen to like beef.
Discussion drifts to casual small talk, mostly sports, while Missy pouts and occasionally tries to interject some comment or another, usually in a blatant attempt to draw the conversation more toward her comfort zones. From what I can tell, those mostly consist of money and shopping.
“So there I was, and who do I see come out of the dressing room? Shaquille O’Neal!” Jeffrey says with a delighted laugh, smacking his hand on the table. “And he’s got on this god-awful knee-length double-breasted purple suit, but he looks at himself in the mirror and then over his shoulder at me and says in that deep voice of his, ‘What do you think, man?’”
“What did you say?” Violet asks, taking a bite of her sweet potatoes.
“What could I say? The man could swat me like a fly if he wanted,” Jeffrey says, “so I just tactfully reminded him that he’d left the Lakers years before.”
We laugh, but Missy pouts and rolls her eyes with a sigh as if she’s heard that story dozens of times. I get it. My Dad has favorites too, but you always act as though it’s the first time you’ve heard it. Missy apparently didn’t get that memo. “Dad—”
“I always thought Shaq was at his best with the Heat, but you can’t argue with the dominance he showed during his Laker years,” I add, cutting Missy off.
Jeffrey holds his glass up, toasting his agreement to that.
Missy looks ready to stab me again, and I actually move my feet beneath my chair in case she decides to ‘accidentally’ stomp on my foot under the table, but both Ross and Kaede look like they want to kiss me.
As our dishes are cleared away and dessert’s brought out, Kaede leans over and whispers in my ear, “God, I love to watch you work.” I smile at him, my eyes ticking down to his lips and wi
shing I could kiss him right here, but it’s not proper, not at someone else’s dinner table during a business dinner. I wish I didn’t know that or didn’t care, but I do.
Kaede licks his lips, and I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. The build-up we left simmering earlier comes back, flushing my body.
Later.
“I’ve been busy talking to my people,” Jeffrey says, moving back to business as he cracks the top on his caramel crème brûlée, “and I had a trusted friend check out Charlotte for the next location. There are some good sites available for groundbreaking.”
“You did?” Ross asks warily.
“Of course. And my intel agreed with yours, for the most part,” Jeffrey says easily, waving off the fact that he just stomped all over the guys’ control of the company like it’s nothing. “The report showed that the area is solidly in the socioeconomic bracket we’re targeting, lacking in options of this caliber, and a veritable smorgasbord of well-priced contractors to complete the build. Plus, I own a TV station there, so our marketing strategy would be relatively plug and play simple.”
Kaede cuts his eyes to Ross, then Jeffrey, and speaks up. “Our current construction company has a branch there. We plan to use them for the next build since they have the specs already.”
Jeffrey hums dismissively. “We’ll see. We’ll need contract bids, of course. I’m sure one of the other ones will come in lower.”
Underneath the table, I reach over and take Kaede’s hand, letting him know I’m on his side, and he gives me a reassuring squeeze back, but I can tell this isn’t the time for me to speak up. I can play Business Barbie all night and have trained for it my entire life as an Andrews, as Dad’s assistant, as a VP, but this one isn’t my battle. For better or worse, I’m not part of the One Life team and this is Kaede and Ross’s fight.
“Bids would be fine, but it’s not all about the cost. It’s quality as well, and the ability to stick to timelines, both things the current company has a proven track record with,” Ross says, piggybacking with Kaede.
“Of course, we’ll compare everything.” The words are right, but the air isn’t. He’s placating them, sort of pooh-poohing their concerns, not quite condescendingly but bordering on it. “I have done this a time or two, you know?” He laughs, but the intent is clear. We’ll do this my way.
I can see exactly what Kaede was talking about now, how Jeffrey says things without saying them. Date my daughter. Use my chosen company. He’s good, but my opinion of Jeffrey Sanders is dropping by the syllable. Sure, his bank account is ginormous, but he’s starting to come off as a little too slick for my taste.
He seems like the kind who enjoys chucking a wrench in the plans just to see what happens but will smooth it over with compliments and flatteries. And if that doesn’t work, he doesn’t care. His checkbook can pimp slap the Pope and get away with it. I know Kaede sees it too, but he’s powerless to do anything but hope those wrenches can be deflected.
Knowing he needs it, I squeeze his hand again, and he smiles at me, though it’s his professional version, not my personal cocky, sexy smirk. I raise one brow, quick and pointed. Later, you can fight on every front, stand up for the best builder, the best products, the best of everything, the way you did for the first build. But it doesn’t have to be tonight.
And then I get my real smile and he squeezes my hand back.
Next to me, Missy stirs her crème brûlée, watching the back and forth between her father and the guys. Finally, she sees her chance to butt in again. “Ugh, too much business. I liked it more when you were talking about sports people. This is supposed to be about getting to know one another, Daddy, since we’re all one big business family now, right?”
She smiles around the table at everyone but focuses longer on Kaede. “I’m still just so entranced with the Cinderfella story of Kaede and Courtney,” Missy says, getting her dig in on Kaede’s upbringing. That’s fuckin’ low. “I would love to know when you two, you know . . . knew?”
Lightning round! It’s time for all those quizzes, workouts, and nights together to pay off. Missy thinks she’s got me by the short hairs, but newsflash, honey . . . I wax.
It’s on like Donkey Kong and I’m a pro player. Let’s go, bitch!
“It was actually the day Ross left the company,” I reply, looking over at Kaede with hearts popping out from my eyes. “Oh, Kaede and I had been eye flirting for a while. I mean, you see how he looks in a suit.” I run a hand over his lapel, casually intimate. “And when he was in the office, jacket off, sleeves rolled up? I thought I’d have to call maintenance because the A/C definitely needed a tune-up when he looked like that.” I fan myself with one hand, the other on my thrown-back head as though I could faint.
Ross’s eyes tighten, but Violet happily shoves another bite of crème brûlée into her mouth. She barely touched her dinner, but dessert is going down hard and fast.
Kaede takes over, shrugging. “Well, after Ross made his whole big Oscar-worthy speech, I knew the writing was on the wall. It’s always been the two of us, One-Two. And if he was out, I was out. That last day, I was finalizing everything for a smooth transition, which meant staying late, as per usual.” He jokingly glares over at Ross as though he was a taskmaster, and then back to me. “And I saw Courtney still in her office—”
“Also working late,” I add with a smile, our storytelling weaving in and over itself.
Kaede smiles, soft and sweet, the no-defenses one he gives me in private, right here at the table in front of everyone. “I’d been watching Courtney, wanting her, but that moment, it hit me. This was it, no more seeing her every day. We had one of those moments, just looking at each other, and then I went to hug her goodbye—”
“I hugged you,” I correct teasingly. “Well, I got up and opened my arms.”
“Yeah, you did. But we hugged bye and then . . . kissed. I was done for. That very moment.”
“Wow,” Violet breathes.
“That is quite the story,” Missy snaps, somewhat contrite. “I suppose I owe you an apology then for interfering. I simply didn’t know you existed.”
A last, desperate attempt to wound me? Child, please.
And also, I noticed you said you ‘owe an apology’, not that you actually apologized.
“Kaede and I knew what the optics could be. We worked together for years but kept it professional because our work is very important to us both. And now, we understand that means late hours, early mornings, and fitting in time whenever we can.” I look at him lovingly, meaning it more than I should. “And making the most of the time we do have together. That doesn’t require parading around and announcing it from rooftops. We’re happy curled up at home together, watching old football games and reading.” I laugh lightly, jokingly correcting myself. “The football games are me. The books are him, obviously.”
Violet looks like she’s about to melt into a puddle of hormonal pregnant woman romantic goo, and Ross is looking from me to Kaede in confusion, likely trying to decide how much of this is fake and how much is real.
I wish I knew too, Brother.
Most of all, Missy looks like she could stomp her foot and throw a hissy fit at any second.
None of it matters, though, because Kaede is looking at me like he hears my real meaning and feels it too. Those snuggly nights on his couch, the sleepovers wound in each other, the morning workouts, the dinner smoothies, the dates, the talks . . . everything. It started as a mission, but it’s turned into something so much more than that.
After a drawn-out moment, Missy clears her throat. “So sweet.”
One thing I know for certain? Missy should not take up poker. She has zero bluff. Except with her dad, it seems, because he smiles as though she actually means that when she might as well have screamed Fuck you, bitch! through a bullhorn.
I’m fluent in double-speak too, and a hell of a lot better at it than she is. “Aw, thanks, Missy.” I smile, knowing that she heard me loud and clear. Fuck you, too.
<
br /> Sitting up straight and looking at Jeffrey, she becomes bright and bubbly, like an effervescent poison. Her smile is dagger sharp as she says, “Oh! Daddy, you haven’t told them the best part yet.”
Her eyes cut back to me, victory sparkling in those baby blues, and my gut tightens. She’s up to something. Her eyes land on Kaede, who freezes. “It’s going to be a lot of fun.”
Jeffrey answers gleefully. “Oh, yes! Missy had a rather brilliant idea. We’d like to announce the future expansion of One Life Gym with a showcase of sorts. Have a sort of sports exhibition. Maybe a 5K fundraiser for a charitable cause, an axe throwing demonstration by Kayla, a strongman competition with AJ, or a Zumba party with Stacylynne. I’m sure that you could set it up with . . .”
Jeffrey continues, throwing around more details of the gym staff than he could have learned in the cursory tour Kaede said he took. The evidence is clear to us all. Missy has been working behind the scenes during her visits, gathering more and more intel, and she’s damn near crowing with pride over it. And this event is her doing, through and through.
But what’s her end game?
Surely, it’s not Kaede. I mean, he’s amazing, but damn, girl, take a no and move on. She’s gorgeous in her own way, rich, and could have a lot of men wrapped around her little finger in ten seconds flat.
Why Kaede? Why not go get any one of the probable dozens of guys who’d kill to have her on their arm? Is it just because she’s never been told no? The whole Veruca Salt thing?
Grow the fuck up, honey. We all get a no sometime.
“Sure,” Ross says carefully, giving Kaede a glance. “I’m sure we could set up something. It would get some momentum and excitement built up.”
“And press,” Missy adds. “We’ll invite the press to cover it, both local and from Charlotte. If we choose the right charity, we can even get some of those pro players from the area to come down, right, Daddy?” She flutters her lashes at Jeffrey like a demon-possessed doll, and he smiles back, completely unaware of how she’s manipulating him.
My Big Fat Fake Engagement Page 24