Sweet Love

by Kayla, Mia

  “It’s at the dry cleaners.”

  That smile. It was actor beautiful, and curiosity ate at my insides.

  “Mmhmm, sure.” I waved a hand in the air. “If you aren’t the spokesperson for Colby’s, what department do you work for?”

  His eyes widened right before he said, “I’m in charge of the marketing team.” He coughed, and the coughs kept coming until he took a sip of his beer, most likely to take care of the tickle in the back of his throat.

  Marketing? I wouldn’t have pegged him for working in marketing. Maybe research and development.

  “That’s pretty impressive. Sometimes, I wish I had taken that route instead of the path I took.”

  If I’d majored in marketing, I could have been unleashing my creativity somehow, using the skills I loved to use on a daily basis.

  He leaned into me, his face so close to mine that my breath caught. “Charlie, the girls are right. You’re definitely in the wrong field.” His stare was all-consuming and heated everywhere he took me in. “You’re talented, Charlie.”

  I couldn’t help but smile because of the way he’d said it. He barely knew me, yet there was so much power behind his words.

  “I can guarantee you that my marketing team would not have thought of this.” He plucked the sketchbook, opening the page to the Funch candy bar. “How did you come up with this?”

  I laughed. “We were just messing around. I mean, if you look at the current branding, it’s outdated, and it kinda sucks, doesn’t it? Be honest.”

  After a beat, he spoke, “You’re right.” His eyebrows pulled together, his gaze so intent on mine. “But where did you come up with the idea?”

  I shrugged. “It just came to me.” Having a highly creative mind, even as a kid, an endless amount of ideas filtered through my head. “The girls were talking about the company coming up with new products in the following year and a new look, so …” My ears felt impossibly hot at his stare, and when he inched closer, I moved further against the wall, giving myself some room to breathe.

  His finger jabbed at my sketch. “This would have taken my marketing team weeks to come up with, just this simple concept, yet you came up with it in a few minutes.”

  “Thanks.” My voice was shaky, soft, even to my own ears.

  “Now, tell me”—he angled even closer—“this morning, when we were by the candy wall and you said we should brand toward the essence of family, can you expand on that further?”

  I pulled at the collar of my shirt, feeling my body temperature heighten.

  “I’d love to hear your thoughts. I can take them back to my marketing team and implement them.”

  His eyes burned with this fevered passion that made me shift in my seat. Good God, was this man serious about his job.

  “Um …” I blew out a breath and reached for my beer to take a sip, but the bottle tipped over. “Shit!” I jumped, the bottle rolling off the table and dropping to the floor but not before the liquid spilled everywhere—on the table, on Connor’s shirt, and on his pants.

  “I’m so sorry.” I grabbed the napkins from the table, wiping up his shirt and the liquid at his waist.

  “I’m fine.”

  Fine? That was an understatement. He was the finest man I’d ever laid my eyes on.

  I swallowed, noting the way his blue button-down firmly hugged his arms, as though his muscles were cold.

  “I’m such a klutz. Seriously, I’m so sorry.”

  When I grabbed more napkins, he reached for my hand, stilling me in my spot. I could feel the sexual magnetism that made him so self-confident.

  “I’m fine. Really.”

  Our eyes locked again, for what seemed like forever.

  One … two … three seconds passed by until he let out one heavy breath.

  “Hey, guys.”

  Our faces flipped to Kyle’s.

  “You guys wanna join us? Alyssa doesn’t want to play.”

  I swallowed hard, already scooting out of the booth, giving Connor a playful shove. “Yeah. Let’s play.” I needed out of this booth before I passed out from heat exhaustion.

  “Connor, let the girl out.”

  Connor threw his brother a look, clenching his jaw, and then he slowly moved out of the booth.

  “Who wants to make a little wager?” Kyle’s smile widened.

  “No. I’m done making bets with you,” Connor snapped.

  Kyle threw an arm over my shoulders, wiggling his eyebrows. “He’s a sore loser. But heads-up, don’t make a bet against me. I always win.”

  “Let go of my friend, you womanizer!” Casey yelled, walking toward us. “Charlie, stay away. You’ll catch his STD, just standing by him.”

  Kyle held both of his palms up, almost running toward her. “Don’t worry, Pigtails. I only have eyes for you.”

  Her scowl was comical, and I stifled a laugh in my throat.

  Connor bumped his shoulder against mine. “You know how to play?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “You’re on my team.” The way he said it brooked no argument.

  “Okay.”

  His eyes appraised me, and he was doing that little intense-gaze thing that made my cheeks flame.

  “Is there anything you can’t do, Miss Charlie?”

  Yep. I can’t stop staring at you.

  That little tidbit I kept to myself.

  Chapter 5

  Connor

  The marketing plans were lying in front of me, scattered on my desk.

  A few nights ago, I hadn’t exactly lied to Charlie. I was indeed the head of marketing while I was working at Colby’s on a temporary basis. But I didn’t include the fact that I was the head of all the other departments as well. My words had flown out as though I’d been born a natural liar.

  But I knew why I’d lied. I’d lied because the attractive, talented woman didn’t have preconceived notions about me, being the son of the CEO. There was a natural ease between us that I knew wouldn’t be there if she found out. Though I didn’t want to admit it, I’d also lied because of selfish reasons. I’d wanted to pick her brain, get more ideas on where to take this new look for Colby’s rebranding initiatives.

  I’d already met with the marketing team, laid out my plans for the rebranding, and they’d come up with a few specs this morning.

  Charlie’s original idea was spot-on. I wanted something clean and that spoke to families and children and future generations.

  Our brand could be our family, given that we were a family business. Even if we weren’t on the best of terms, the rest of the world didn’t need to know that.

  I wanted a modern, good brand, which meant new packaging and a new logo. We needed a new brand that people could relate to, a feeling related to Colby Chocolates.

  If we were going to spend money on marketing, we needed a good slogan, a good logo.

  The meeting that I’d had with the marketing team ended well, and I thought I’d conveyed what I wanted to do with the rebranding initiatives of Colby, but when I’d received the new potential marketing materials … they were okay at best.

  Maybe it was because they were all about to retire and were not with the new trends.

  Most of our employees had started with Colby’s years ago. There was very little turnover because my parents treated their employees well, even better than their own family members.

  I rustled through the papers one more time.

  “No.” Flipped paper. “No.” Flipped another piece of paper. “No!”

  I slammed a palm against the desk and ran the same hand through my hair. I needed this right. Time was running out. I needed to solidify the changes to the brand, sell the changes to my father, and then put the changes into motion. I couldn’t possibly extend my leave of absence at Financial State any further. My current employer would let me go; I knew that much.

  “I feel like it should be branded to the essence of family, but you can do it without using the family name in big, fat letters.”

&n
bsp; Charlie had been exactly right. But even with giving her original bar sketch to my marketing team as inspiration, they had gotten the concept all wrong.

  I hated that our conversation at the bar had been cut short by a game of pool.

  After leaving the bar, I’d realized one thing: I needed her on the team, needed her to work on these rebranding initiatives. I wouldn’t take her from her regular job, but I could get her overtime approved for helping me. Problem was, would she even agree to that?

  I’d have to talk to her today to try to convince her.

  The buzzing on my phone broke me from my thoughts.

  I pressed the button on the intercom.

  “Mr. Colby, your father is on line one.” It was my secretary.

  “Thanks, Claire.”

  We were all Mr. Colby—my father, me, and Kyle. It would get confusing at the company if I worked here permanently. I ticked off another reason I needed out sooner than later.

  “Dad.”

  “Hey, I’m scheduling an impromptu meeting in the boardroom at one. Please make yourself available.”

  Great. Has this man ever heard of a schedule? No one appreciated impromptu meetings, especially when their schedules had been planned out for the day.

  “I’ll be available.”

  There was a long pause before he spoke. “Are you coming home tonight or at least stopping by for dinner?”

  I’d been renting an apartment within walking distance to work. Tension between my parents and me was at an all-time high, and I didn’t want to say something in the heat of an argument. Keeping things strictly professional was the best way to deal with them right now. It’d been that way ever since I left for college.

  “Not tonight.” Or any other night for that matter.

  “Nana requested you for dinner.”

  I huffed audibly loud. “I’ll talk to Nana.”

  When they used the word Nana, it was as though I couldn’t say no. Maybe she’d settle for alone time—with just us going out to dinner.

  “Okay, son. I’ll see you in a little bit.”

  Son. I rolled the word in my mind. If only they had raised me and treated me like their son.

  * * *

  My father paced the front of the room, near the whiteboard, as everyone in the office filed into the boardroom. My mother sat at the head of the table. Her short hair was pulled back in a sleek brown ponytail. She had aged well and looked half my father’s age with his pepper-gray hair.

  I watched the interaction of the employees greeting my father as they walked in. Almost as pals, more than coworkers or acquaintances for sure. Some of these people had been here since before I was born. I stood, flushed against the back wall with a few other employees, trying to blend in. No matter what others thought or said, that was what I was. I’d act like an employee, here on a temporary assignment.

  “Connor.” Elise from accounting pinched my cheek. “Glad to see you’re back.”

  She’d known me since I was a little boy, eating the candy directly from the conveyer belts.

  “Hey, you.” Logan from quality and assurance patted my shoulder. “You’re back.”

  “Just temporarily.”

  “I hope not,” Jenny from production said. “We miss you at the company. We really want you back.”

  I smiled down at the woman who used to set up a scavenger hunt around the office for my brother and me when we were younger.

  “They need me back at Financial State Bank pretty soon.” My voice was polite, respectful.

  In a way, these people who had worked for this company for so long were the ones who had raised me.

  A long mahogany table sliced the boardroom horizontally, and chairs surrounded all sides. But as people filed in, they occupied the chairs backed up against the wall. Some people preferred to stand while other people preferred to sit, and most of the people seated at the center table were VP level or above.

  As more and more workers filed in, thoughts raced in my head. I’d been here before but in front of a different company, not in front of my family’s company. As sales decreased and expenses stay the same, soon, profit margins would dwindle down to where layoffs were needed. A sinking feeling hit the pit of my stomach, and I thought of Elise, Logan, Jenny, and many others I knew closely at Colby’s. I didn’t want to do that. Lay people off, people I knew, people who had watched me grow up. My father didn’t want to do that. He’d raised this company from the ground up, working nonstop, my mother right alongside him. If anything, these people had seen my father more than Kyle and I had.

  There were multigenerational employees, such as Casey, where her father had been the head of quality and assurance before her. My father might not have known all of the factory workers, but here, at corporate, he knew them all by name.

  Even though I didn’t want this to be personal, it was. Those companies that I tore apart for Financial State were nameless faces, but everyone in this room knew me by my first name and vice versa.

  It’d kill him to fire any of them, and my stomach churned at the thought of if we’d have to come to that.

  Alyssa and Casey were the last to enter the room, Casey laughing, as always. They staggered in, and beside them, Charlie strolled in, smiling. Her dimples were set deep in her cheeks, her most endearing quality. It was almost childlike, but when you took her all in, you knew she was no child. She was all woman with her slim waist and the nice curvature of her ass.

  I cleared my throat and swallowed. Yeah, can’t go there.

  Casey and Alyssa made their way to their regular spots at the table, but Charlie backed up against the wall.

  Casey swept her hands over to the seat next to her, but Charlie adamantly shook her head and inched further away, almost at the corner, as though she didn’t want to be seen.

  “Charlie, get over here,” Casey hissed.

  My father peered up at Charlie as the room quieted to a hush. With one look, she meandered to the seat.

  And then my father started his spiel. “As we close out this quarter, I want to personally thank each and every one of you for all you do. For all your hard work, day in and day out. I’m so very proud of this team and where you’ve taken Colby’s.”

  I stood, stone-faced, thinking of when I had been younger and how many times I’d wished he’d said he was proud of me, proud of what I’d done in school or how I’d made it to varsity football when I was only a sophomore. I’d never once heard that from my parents’ mouths. I’d been a good kid—gotten good grades, excelled in sports—but just once, I’d wished I had been acknowledged for my hard work.

  My father knocked on the table twice. “And despite the talks about canceling the company party this year, it will still be on.”

  All of the muscles in my back tightened. We’d discussed this. We couldn’t afford a big holiday party at the Ritz again. Didn’t he understand that this company was not doing well? That every single dollar counted?

  “But Grace and I will host it at our home this year.”

  When his eyes made it my way, I relaxed, just a tad.

  “It won’t be a grand event, as it has been in the past, but we’ll be all together to celebrate our accomplishments. Since it will be at our house, you can bring your families.”

  He motioned to me at the far end of the room, beckoning me forward, and I pushed myself off the wall. Automatically, my eyes met Charlie’s, and I swallowed. Her face lost its color, and she openly gaped.

  Great. Just great.

  My mother pointed at me. “Connor, why don’t you tell them about the things coming down the pipeline?”

  I inhaled deeply and smiled. “Well, I wasn’t exactly prepared to talk about our pipeline, but since you put me on the spot …”

  The crowd laughed, and my eyes made it back Charlie’s way. She averted her gaze and dropped her stare to her hands in her lap.

  Come on, green emeralds. Look up.

  “In regard to the new products that we plan to launch, we’re in the early
stages, but in addition, we’ll be focusing on branding this year and introducing a new and improved logo along with a new slogan and feel for Colby Chocolates and Candies.”

  My eyes flickered toward her, but she was notably focusing on her fingers. Maybe even picking at her nails.

  “I’ve been diligently working with our marketing group to come up with this. We’ll have to finalize plans within the next month to get things printed and advertising set.” For the life of me, I wanted to meet her eyes, see the speckle of deep green in them, green as a newly manicured lawn. “We’re going to start off by rebranding our infamous Colby’s Chocolate Bar. Start off with the packaging and then advertising, eventually rolling it out across all the other lines, across the whole company.”

  Still, no reaction from Charlie.

  But my father spoke up, “What’s wrong with Colby’s current packaging?”

  I hadn’t informed him yet of my plans. I’d only told him that there were new products in the pipeline, not a brand-new rehaul of everything.

  “It’s outdated. The packaging specifically. One might think that it’s a little conceited to brand our name on the chocolate bar rather than the name of the actual product.”

  The room laughed again, but my father was not at all amused.

  “That’s how it has been branded since the inception of this company,” he said.

  “I feel like it should be branded to the essence of family, but you can do it without using the family name in big, fat letters,” I repeated Charlie’s words from the first time we’d met. “Brand to connect with future generations.”

  Now, her gaze lifted from the hands on her lap to the table, as though something interesting were written on the mahogany.

  Frustration hit me in the gut, not being able to see her eyes, read her reaction.

  “Charlie.” I cleared my throat, realizing I’d called her name out loud. “Charlotte is a new employee at Colby’s. She works as a computer tech at corporate.” I smiled and motioned for her to stand.

  Her face was beet red, so red that it seemed as though her cheeks would explode. She sucked in her bottom lip, and for a moment, I was mesmerized at her bottom lip being fuller than the top.