Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“How’s everything going, David?”
He looks up from his laptop with a droll expression. “Well, considering your social media was white bread until I arrived, it’s better.”
Whoa. “Someone is cocky,” I say, jerking my gaze back. Then I furrow my brow. “Also, what’s white bread?”
“Boring, Dad. Boring,” he says.
“Then make it…un-boring.”
“That’s my goal,” he says, then shoos me away. “Don’t want anyone to see the boss hanging around too long.”
“Message received,” I say, then rap my knuckles on the padded half wall in a goodbye. “See you tonight at Dragonfly.”
A smile tilts his lips as he says, “See you then.”
There. I’ll be busy tonight too. My schedule is so damn full.
I leave, heading toward my office where Kyle greets me from his desk just outside. “Hello, Mr. Adams,” he says. “Did you have a good lunch meeting?”
“Fantastic, Kyle,” I say, since I’m staying in the work zone. “And now I need to bury myself in research.”
Bring it on, research. Rain down from the sky in a deluge.
“Great. Don’t forget we have the HR session though at three.”
That slipped my mind. Maybe I’ve been too focused. “Remind me?”
A shock of sandy-brown hair falls on his forehead, and he pushes it back. “The HR consultant you and your brother hired as part of the merger is hosting a series of sessions on creating a culture of respect in the workplace. The first session is today.”
I snap my fingers, remembering. That’s important, even though I’ll have to leave my cave for it. “Right. Right. I’ll be there.”
“Oh, and I confirmed your reservation for three at Dragonfly tonight. The address is in your calendar.”
“Excellent,” I say, and I thank him and head into my office.
But before I can dive into work, Finn raps on the door, then strides in. “Find any good tech to invest in, or can I plan on beating you with the firm’s next big funding?”
“Like I’d tell you before I reeled them in.” This competition with my brother is half the fun of being in business together.
Finn scoffs. “Like I’d tell you about any good content plays before I snagged them.”
There’s a freedom and a shorthand in working with Finn at last. You don’t play in my sandbox. I don’t play in yours. But together we make it rain. And it rains on our terms—the terms of two brothers from the wrong side of the tracks who made it big.
All on our own.
He glances at my palm which I’ve wiped clean of evidence of my Layla obsession. “Guess the woman isn’t driving you wild anymore,” he observes.
I wish.
“I’m all good,” I say. It’s the furthest thing from accurate. But I’ll have to make it true, or I might go crazy. Especially when I head to the session at three. This discussion of inappropriate workplace language is making me think of other inappropriate things.
David warned me that Cynthia might be a little shy, and she was at first, but an hour into dinner, she seems to be holding her own.
We finish our dishes debating how to bowl your best game. “Look,” I say. “Here’s my official take: it’s all about the swing…” I pause, lift my bottle of beer, then add, “But honestly, it’s down to the beer.”
Cynthia laughs. “Beer does make you bowl better.”
“Fact,” David chimes, then sets down his chopsticks. “We should all go bowling sometime. There’s an alley in Brooklyn near my new place.”
“I’d like that,” I tell him. “But I have to warn you—I’d beat you all. Get ready for a phenomenal level of destruction.” I am smug but honest.
David whistles, then claps Cynthia’s shoulder. “Dude. Are you taking on my girl? She’s the queen of bowling.”
“You and her,” I say. “Dude.”
“Hey, everyone’s dude to me.”
“I’ve noticed, and yes, I will take you both on.” Then I turn to include David’s date. “As long as that works for Cynthia.”
“I’m game,” the brunette says with a smile. “How are you so good at bowling, Mr. Adams?”
I’ve asked her to call me Nick, but she seems more comfortable with the formality, so I don’t insist again. As for her question, I could tell her my dad played. That he taught Finn and me from an early age. That it was part of our world. But there’s a simpler answer. “Because bowling’s awesome,” I say, then finish my beer.
When the meal ends, I call a cab to take the two of them to Brooklyn, since Cynthia is staying in the city tonight.
At the curb, she extends a hand. “Thanks again for dinner, Mr. Adams. I’m so glad we could meet before the auction.”
The reminder of the auction jolts my brain back to Layla.
I try not to think about seeing her there, dressed up in something stunning. Because she’s always stunning. She’ll be hosting the event with David. We’ll be in the same room for hours, while I have to keep my cool.