Shopping for a CEO's Fiancée

“Aside from that hook-up our freshman year,” Shannon whispers.

“You pinkie promised never to talk about him!” Amanda hisses.

Declan and Dad start hooting.

“Trust me,” Josh says in an acid tone. “The only two people in this room who had sex last night were you and Amanda.” He looks down with a forlorn look.

Declan thumbs toward Shannon. “Actually, we did, too.”

Josh’s turn for a raised eyebrow. “In this room? Kinky.”

Declan shuts him up with a glare. Josh and Geordi wisely leave.

“Now that we’ve gone into more detail about my sons’ sex lives than an IRS audit, could we please get back to the fact that the CEO of the company I built from scratch is currently wearing a Star Wars action figure as a penis cozy and can’t perform his job!”

You can guess who said that.

“Technically,” I correct him, looking down, “this isn’t a Star Wars action figure. That would be far too small to cover my—”

“Are you really arguing with the semantics about a stuffed Chewbacca toy?” Dad snaps.

“Declan can’t take that meeting with the Sultan, Dad,” I grind out, trying to take the heat off me.

“Why not? You’re here, Dec. Delay the honeymoon by a few hours.” Dad’s hand does the familiar dismissal gesture. “The jet can wait.”

“No, Dad,” I explain, trying to catch Declan’s eye. He won’t give it to me.

“Andrew, you smell like a distillery and—” he sniffs the air. “And oddly enough, cat urine. You’re standing in a disgusting room filled with people who are staring at your naked body while you use Disney merchandise in a decidedly unconventional manner. You’re hardly in any position to argue with me over whether Declan is a better fit for representing Anterdec in a high-level meeting for a multi-billion dollar deal.”

I try. Declan has a chance to cough it up on his own. Instinct makes me pause. Or maybe that’s nausea, roiling in my gut. What the hell did I drink last night? Normally, I can hold my own with liquor. I go up to the line, and even cross it by a single, regrettable drink, but I don’t do what I’ve clearly done to my body.

Mustering clarity, I give Declan a hard look. Silence.

Huh.

Looks like he isn’t going to step up, after all.

“Declan resigned from Anterdec last night, Dad. He bought a coffee chain for Shannon and he’s declared himself the CEO of the new company. He can’t represent Anterdec because he doesn’t work for us anymore.”

Declan flinches at the word us.

If I had any muscles to spare, I would, too. It sounds really awful coming out of my mouth, and a part of me wishes I could take it back.

But not a big part.

Declan clears his throat and does the unexpected. He reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out another resignation letter. I had to lead the way. Big brother follows.

Does this really have to happen now?

Dad looks at me with disgust, then turns his attention to Declan, brow turned down, the lower half of his face blank. He starts reading the letter just as Amanda’s mother, Pam, appears behind him, stepping gingerly through the mess on the floor, her eyes catching mine, briefly stopping at the beast I’m pressing over my groin to hide my…beast.

Her teacup Chihuahua, Spritzy, jumps out of her little handbag and sniffs the area around the giant teddy bear. Then he lifts his leg and does what any self-respecting male would do.

Claims his territory.

“You resigned?” Dad’s words scream in my head, echoing off the walls of my skull like—

Like a tuba. Amanda’s got a point.

Dec squares his shoulders and faces Dad, and now I smile.

Achievement unlocked: deflection complete.

“Yes.” Declan’s voice is forceful. He won’t take crap from Dad. Shannon moves closer, her fingers wrapping around Declan’s elbow, and for the first time in my life, I think Declan has a shot at truly taking on Dad. In a game of tennis, this would be Point.

“You can’t resign!”

“Just did.”

“I won’t allow it.”

Oh, big mistake. Big mistake, Dad. When we were kids, the worst phrase you could utter to Declan was “You can’t.”

“Allow?” Declan’s across the room in a flash, right in Dad’s face, making Pam take a step back. Spritzy rushes across the room, collar jangling like he’s Quasimodo the serial killer, destroying me and Amanda with that gong of a collar.

“That’s right.” Dad won’t back down.

“I do not need your permission to buy my own company and to resign from yours.”

I flinch at the word yours.

Set.

When my mother died, I woke up in the hospital to a life that was someone else’s. Nothing made sense. Dad was angry, Declan was shut down, and Terry was off at college. He came back for the funeral and disappeared again. Mom was gone.

One arena made sense, though: business. Joining Dad in running Anterdec was the only way to get his attention.

And now Dec is leaving.

Sharing Dad’s attention is one thing. Being the top dog and edging Dec out just slightly is enough.

Having the full fire hose of James McCormick’s expectations aimed at your face is more than enough.

I have a beast inside me. No, not the flesh stick between my legs.

This creature has no name. It thrives on control and vigilance. It needs to know all. Complete control is not its goal. Oddly enough, it defers at times. Rare times.

Very rare moments.

This is not one of them.