Sweet Love

by Kayla, Mia

  I swallowed. Hard. “Tell me what you think about our current branding.”

  I had no idea why I had called her out. That was reckless of me really. But I wanted her to voice her honesty, and more than that, I wanted to see her face.

  “I-I think … I mean … there’s always room for improvement in everything, right?” She smiled, all teeth, and wrung her fingers in front of her, her face turning all shades of red, her eyes teetering between me and my father’s.

  “I totally agree.”

  When I crossed my arms over my chest, her jaw clenched, and a tiny bit of me felt a little guilty for putting her on the spot.

  “So, if you were leading this relaunch, what would some of your suggestions be?”

  The smile slipped from her face, and if looks could kill, I’d be dead on the ground.

  “I don’t have expertise in that area.”

  “But you know what you like, and above all, you are a consumer, so let’s just entertain this idea, shall we?”

  I was pushing this way too far. At this point, Alyssa and Casey were shooting daggers my way.

  When Charlie sat silent, I prompted her to continue, “We’ll start by what you like about the current packaging and what you think needs improvement.”

  “It reminds me of my childhood.”

  “That’s the thing though, how old are you? Twenty-one, twenty-two?”

  “Twenty-five.”

  Hmm. Interesting. She looked younger. I would have never pegged her being only four years younger than me.

  Judging by the look on her face, I couldn’t push her further. I’d ask her to join in this rebranding initiatives at a later time, when we were alone, but not now.

  I walked the room, making it around the table, speaking to the employees, “This type of branding will only appeal to those like Charlotte and myself, in their late twenties or our parents or grandparents. It won’t speak to the children currently. And who is buying chocolate or asking their parents to buy chocolate?” I walked right behind Casey, Charlie, and Alyssa. Everyone was staring at me, except for Charlie, who had her sights on something very interesting on the table as she planted her butt back on the chair. “Children.” I tapped her chair twice. “Right, Charlotte?”

  She turned and shot me the meanest of looks, and I bit my lip to suppress laughter.

  She cleared her throat, her voice firmer this time. “Not sure what the current children like or want, but yes, I can see your point.”

  “Connor.” My father’s voice was stern, firm, and not one bit amused. Not surprising. “We’ll have to discuss this at a later time.” My father broke the staring contest I had been having with Charlie and dismissed the group. “We’ll be sending the company party details by the end of the day. Thank you all.”

  Charlie was the first to stand. She moved past me and out the door, not waiting for Alyssa or Casey, who stood to follow her.

  “Nice job in getting the new girl to turn fifty shades of red,” Alyssa commented.

  Casey shoved a finger into my chest. “What’s the matter with you, Connor? I know it was just a question, but why did you have to put her on the spot? Sometimes …” She threw me one dissatisfied look. “Sometimes, you just don’t think, and you’re supposed to be the more sensible brother.” Then, she stormed off, followed by Alyssa, to go after Charlie.

  All of my muscles tightened because that was exactly what I’d done, hadn’t I? I hadn’t been thinking; I had simply reacted.

  I rubbed at my brow, frustrated. I owed someone an apology.

  “Connor,” my father called out as everyone filed out of the room.

  I turned to face him, his full head of pepper-gray hair, his brown eyes so similar to mine, his chin held high. His suit had been pressed to perfection, not a wrinkle in place. This was my father in his truest form—to the world, to his company, to me.

  My mother patted my shoulder before walking out. Her little gestures indicated that she’d been trying since I’d been home. Trying to be the mother she never had been—because Nana had taken that spot.

  Automatically, I straightened to meet my father’s stance.

  “Rebranding?” One word heavy on his tongue.

  I nodded. “It’s a way to give the company a new look while capturing new clients.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I’ve seen this done time and time again with struggling companies. This was their one game changer to bring them back to the black.”

  “So, you have a plan in place?”

  “Yes. A solid plan,” I lied through my teeth, but this was where I was going to fake it till I made it.

  “Okay. We’ll see what you come up with.” My father nodded. “When you’re ready, you can present it to the board, and we can go from there.”

  I nodded. “Okay. Sounds good.”

  He about-faced, and I almost saluted him as though he were a general.

  When he was out of my vicinity, I rubbed at my temple, letting out a long sigh.

  Shit, I had a plan, but it would only work if Charlie was on board.

  Charlie

  My ears burned unbelievably hot, the heat spreading to my forehead. My cheeks warmed, and I could imagine what my face had looked like at that meeting. I stormed out of the conference room and back to my desk. I fired up my computer and logged in, diving back into work because that was what I did.

  Job. Job. Job. I need money, money, money.

  “Hey, Charlie,” a mousy voice piped up behind me.

  I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. It was Casey. I was sure Alyssa was right behind her.

  “Connor is Connor Colby?” I gritted my teeth.

  I didn’t know if I could forgive him for embarrassing me in front of all of management. My fingers tiptapped against the computer. Maybe I could call in sick—but for the rest of the month. I wanted to pretend that this didn’t bother me, but it did, especially after everything I’d said about his company, about his chocolates and the branding. And not only had I said these things multiple times in front of him, but today, I’d also said them in front of Thomas Colby, the CEO.

  “Connor is Connor Colby,” I repeated, mostly to myself.

  “Yeah … Connor and Kyle Colby. I kind of grew up with them,” Casey said.

  I peered up at her and then set my gaze back to the computer. Why hadn’t I put two and two together? She had mentioned that at the candy wall on my very first day. But she’d also introduced me to Connor and not mentioned that he was the CEO’s son.

  It was like Casey could read my thoughts. “By the time I came back for you on your first day on the job, you’d already introduced yourself and seemed comfortable around him. Plus, since it was your first day, I think I was just too worried about making sure that you were okay and that you knew where the break room and the facilities were that I didn’t even bother to mention that he was the Connor Colby, not just Connor in a weird outfit.”

  “Casey”—Alyssa’s voice was heavy with disdain—“details matter, baby. This is what I’ve been telling you. The smallest details matter.”

  I rubbed at my forehead and placed my fingers back at the computer and keyboard. “Why was he wearing that candy-cane suit?”

  Unless all CEOs and upper management wore those suits for no reason.

  “Kyle and him always make these stupid bets. And we’d just gotten the factory uniform. I’m assuming, for whatever reason, that Connor lost a bet.” Casey sat at the end of my desk, her ankles crossed. “It’s weird. He never puts anybody on the spot like that. That was really out of character. I mean, I don’t know why he would even do that.”

  “I have my ideas,” Alyssa said, which forced Casey to stare at her. Casey paused, waiting for more, but Alyssa shrugged and simply said, “But I’ll keep my suspicions to myself. What did you exactly say?”

  “That I hated chocolate and candies and that the packaging for Colby’s chocolate bars was outdated,” I groaned and rubbed at my temple.


  Goodness, why did I have to be so honest at times? Why couldn’t I keep my thoughts and ideas to myself?

  I turned to face them fully and placed both palms over my eyes, rubbing them as though I were just waking up from deep slumber. Casey and Alyssa laughed, and deep-seated humiliation prickled my skin.

  I stared at them, my look incredulous. “It’s so not funny, guys. I need this job.” I jutted out my chin, the anger straightening out my shoulders. “He didn’t once tell me he was the Connor Colby, the son of the CEO. He told me he was the head of marketing. And why did he put me on the spot and force me to say all those things in front of Mr. Colby? I’m so annoyed.” I could feel the vein at my temple pulsing.

  Alyssa placed a consoling hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “It’s fine. He’s leaving eventually, and you won’t have to deal with him.”

  “Leaving?” As soon as the word left my mouth, my shoulders slumped.

  “Yeah. He came back to turn Colby’s around. This isn’t his permanent job. He has a hotshot bank job in Manhattan that he has to get back to.”

  “Oh …”

  Alyssa waved a hand. “Anyway, this calls for drinks again after work, on me.”

  Casey slid up beside me and frowned, pushing out her bottom lip. “Details do matter. I’m sorry.”

  There was no way to be mad at Casey. Unless you were the Devil himself, but even the Devil, I assumed, could be won over, especially by this cute, little, mousy girl.

  “It’s fine.”

  It wouldn’t be fine, but I’d just have to get over it. And I would … eventually.

  “I’ll just drink my embarrassment away tonight,” I sighed.

  Casey laughed, pointed at me, and shot her finger like a gun. “After work, five thirty, at O’Malley’s.”

  “Yes. Be there for happy hour. All right?” Alyssa patted my hand. “Don’t worry. Everyone will forget what you said in the morning.”

  Doubted that, but I smiled for her benefit.

  Work had been my safe haven recently. Especially when I preferred staying at Colby’s and working late and hanging out with my friends at work over going home to my mom and her new family.

  I just hoped I wouldn’t see Connor around. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not a week from now.

  Chapter 6

  Charlie

  I’d finished hooking up ten desks to the new network, and I’d done it by skipping out on lunch with Casey and Alyssa. I was way ahead of schedule and pretty damn proud of myself. I’d pat myself on the back if it wouldn’t look hella awkward.

  It was two in the afternoon when I finally sat down in the break room by myself, eating my plain ham and cheese sandwich. It was a lunch made for grade-school kids, but it was also a staple lunch my father used to prepare me all the time.

  My father. Talented guitar player. My hero, and I was his princess.

  I missed him. Badly.

  When he’d died, he had taken a big part of me with him, the part that believed that I was good enough, that I was worthy, that I was perfect. Now, there was no one left to cheer me on, push me to do my best, and remind me that I was talented and just how I had been made to be.

  My chest ached at the absence of him. He used to make my lunch every day before he went to work. He’d leave me little notes in my lunchbox or in between my notebook. Funny quotes or terrible drawings, just to make me laugh during my long school days.

  Before the sadness took me under, I focused on the task at hand, at eating lunch, but the ham and cheese sandwich suddenly lost its flavor.

  After taking another bite of my food, I flipped the page of my book—the latest book by Piper Rayne, Sexy Filthy Boss. It was a romantic comedy that had me laughing before melancholy thoughts filtered through.

  Just like my father, I loved drowning myself in a good book. It was my favorite thing ever.

  I took another bite of my sandwich and dipped my nose back into the pages. I was almost on the next chapter when a deep baritone stilled me and forced my head up. Immediately, heat rushed to my cheeks again, and my heart pitter-pattered in my chest.

  Damn it, betraying heart.

  I needed to remind that stupid thing that Connor was the one who had embarrassed me in front of everyone in the boardroom.

  “Having a late lunch?” He had a steaming cup of coffee in his hand, and his smile was actor beautiful.

  “Coffee so late in the afternoon?” I shot back.

  He lifted his cup, smiling. “I haven’t been able to sleep lately. Can I join you?”

  His cool, aloof demeanor after everything that had happened irked me. Something about me was that I lived for comfort. Never did I like to put myself in a situation that would make me uncomfortable. Parties? Nope. Clubs? Nope. Sitting and talking to one of the hottest guys I’d ever met, him being the CEO’s son. I’d rather not. I’d rather walk on coal, eat the coal, and burn my throat and all my intestines with it.

  I should say no. I should say I was done with lunch.

  “Sure,” I choked out, mouth full, not making eye contact. My right cheek puffed out, chipmunk-style, because I hadn’t swallowed the last of my sandwich yet.

  He embarrassed you, remember? He embarrassed you.

  Then, I decided I was done, and I didn’t have to sit here in discomfort. I gulped the last bite down. “You know what? You can have my seat. I’m just about done, and I have a ton of work to do.”

  There wasn’t an occupied seat in the whole room. Why couldn’t he have taken one of those, so I could finish my lunch?

  I stuffed my empty sandwich container in my brown paper bag. I still had my chips and cookie left, but I wanted to leave.

  “Charlie, can we talk for a second?”

  My expression pinched, and I smiled a forced, pained smile. “I actually have a lot to do today.”

  “Please. Just give me a few minutes,’ he sighed, his eyes soft, almost pleading.

  For a moment, I debated on denying his request. I did have a lot of work to do, but more than that, I was irked at him.

  But after a long beat, I nodded.

  He took a seat in front of me, tapping his fingers against his coffee mug. “About the meeting today …” His gaze dipped to the cup within his hands before meeting my eyes. “It wasn’t cool. It won’t happen again.”

  My ears burned while agitation seeped deep in my skin as I remembered how he’d put me on the spot at the meeting. “Why did you lie to me?” I snapped.

  My irritation seemed to amuse him because his eyebrows shot up and he smirked. “Lie? I didn’t actually lie.”

  I rolled my eyes, his small smile aggravating the crap out of me. “You could have told me who you were.”

  “But where’s the fun in that?”

  I gritted my teeth and jutted out my chin, ignoring his comment. “Like I said, I have a lot of work to do today.” I stood, already done with this conversation and annoyed that he’d interrupted my lunch.

  When I turned to leave, he gripped my hand, stilling me. “I’m kidding.” His hold tightened on my fingers and my eyes narrowed.

  “Not about the sorry part because I obviously meant that part.”

  When I didn’t say anything, he clasped his other hand over mine, where it looked like he was praying, my fingers sandwiched within his. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I know I should have told you who I was, but …” His eyes searched mine. “But I didn’t want you to filter your true thoughts about our products or, more importantly, act differently in front of me.” His voice was soft, genuine, almost begging.

  “Why would I do that, treat you differently?”

  “Because of my last name. Because of who I am.” He shook his head, and his eyebrows furrowed. After a long sigh, he said, “People tend to act differently around me when they find out who I am.”

  His last name was a nationwide name, so I understood this part, but still, it didn’t make me feel better.

  “Honestly, would you have been able to tell me what you thought about our products if you
had known who I was?”

  My eyes drifted to his hands clasped over mine, and I shook my head. “Still … you should have told me.”

  “I know. I should have. Please sit, Charlie. I need to ask you something.”

  Being so close to him, I drowned in his chocolate-brown eyes and read the sincerity in them. I should hear him out. I could do that much. I debated on it, but after a beat, I sat down.

  He released my hand, and his gaze dropped to the table. Clearing his throat, he said, “This rebranding initiatives is Colby’s last effort to save this company.” He visibly swallowed and met my gaze. Despair and concern reigned in the span of his brown irises. “Our profit margins have dwindled, and we’ve sustained substantial losses for the last year. I need a concise, strategic, and actionable plan to save this company, and my main focus is a brilliant marketing vision.”

  I could feel his utter determination oozing out of him. “I’ve seen my marketing team’s initial specs, and it’s not going to cut it. My gut tells me that it won’t take us out of the red, and I need help.” Desperation was heavy in his tone, which matched the intensity in his eyes. “We’re not going to spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on a marketing plan that I don’t believe in.” He leaned into me and rested his elbows on the table. “What you said the other day … about branding to the essence of family, I think that’s the direction we need to take, and I need you to help me.”

  It took me a few seconds to register what he’d just said.

  When his request finally sank in, I blinked up at him and reeled back. “What?”

  “I need you to help me with the rebranding initiatives.”

  “I heard you. But why?”

  “Do you even have to ask? I’ve seen your work.”

  I shook my head, unbelieving. “Okay, yeah, I drew one half-assed picture of a pretend candy bar for fun. That doesn’t mean I’m qualified to help you with the rebranding initiatives. That’s crazy.”

  He ducked his head, his gaze alert and intent on me. “If that’s your half-assed idea, then I can’t wait to see your real vision.”