me?”
That position had been decided since Wyatt’s first IQ test in grade school. Like an Olympic athlete, his whole life had centered around getting groomed and trained for this role, especially after his father had realized that his other son, Jace, had absolutely no interest in taking over the family business.
Wyatt thought of all the things he’d turned down, walked away from, or not tried because he was on this path. Because he was the “good” son, the heir apparent. All the hours and blood and sweat he put into this company. Now that role was up the air?
“My first responsibility is to this company,” his father said curtly. “You know I’ve never given you anything simply because we share DNA. You’ve earned everything you’ve gotten so far. But now you need to earn this. If I don’t think you’re the best candidate, I won’t hesitate to give it to someone else. Eric has been in line for it for years and has as much experience as you do.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Look at my face,” his dad said, using the same words he used to say to Wyatt when he was a child. “Does this look like my kidding face?”
Wyatt made a sound of disgust. “You’re a cold-hearted sonofabitch sometimes.”
“I am. That’s what gives me my edge, son. If I made decisions based on emotions, you’d have grown up in some shithole in the suburbs. This is a weakness of yours, and my future CEO can’t afford weaknesses.”
“I got it,” he snapped, bitterness leaking into his words.
“Good.” His father pulled a paper from the inner pocket of his jacket and laid it on Wyatt’s desk. “That’s a list of people going whose business we want to acquire. Do whatever it takes to get them.”
Wyatt unfolded the paper and scanned the neat list of typed names. Some of the biggest players out there were listed of course. His father always aimed for the outfield. But Wyatt’s gaze snagged on the name at the bottom of the page. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Andrew Carmichael? If you think I’m going to go kiss Andrew’s ass, you have an—”
“He’s the biggest fish on that list now. Ed’s health has been in the shitter lately, and he’s handed over lots of responsibility to Andrew, including this year’s retreat. Retirement is probably inevitable within the year. So you need to work the son. And you two used to be friends. Use that.” His father straightened his coat.
“Friends? That’s quite a revisionist history there, Dad.” The guy had made grade school painful and high school a fucking nightmare.
“Come on. You can’t still be hung up on stuff that happened so long ago. So he liked to pick on you. He was just threatened because you were smarter than him and got more attention.”
Wyatt gritted his teeth. Childhood teasing he could’ve forgiven, but Andrew had upped the ante when they hit high school. When Wyatt had been chosen for a prestigious scholarship over Andrew, the bastard had retaliated by getting Wyatt’s longtime girlfriend tipsy at an after-prom party and then fucking away her virginity on Wyatt’s bed, making sure Wyatt walked in at just the right moment. Wyatt’s one and only fist fight had ended with a naked Andrew knocked out in the middle of the hallway.
“I want him on our roster.”
“There are other big players we can go after. We don’t need him.”
“We do and you’re going to get him.” His father stood and pulled out an envelope. He dropped it onto the desk. “Nancy in travel has already changed mine and your mother’s reservations into your name. You need to let Nancy know who you’re bringing with you.”
Wyatt picked up the envelope and looked at his father. “Who I’m bringing?”
“This is a plus-one trip. Most of the events are for couples, so don’t be the asshole who shows up solo. And for God’s sake, don’t bring that woman you brought to the charity ball. She had about as much personality as a shoehorn. You need someone who isn’t going to be afraid to mingle and flirt. The prettier your date, the more the other guys will be interested in hanging around you two.”
Oh, this was getting better and better. What was he supposed to do, call up the rent-a-girlfriend-for-a-week service? He worked fifteen-hour days and most weekends. Like he’d told Kelsey, dating didn’t exactly fit into that schedule. He’d had a colleagues-with-benefits thing going for a while with a woman who worked in the building next door, but they’d stopped their Saturday night meet-ups a while back when she’d decided she needed more and had laid out an ultimatum for him. He didn’t do ultimatums.
But regardless of his father’s opinion, he would’ve been faced with the issue anyway. Because there was no way he was going to show up to this thing and face Andrew without some knockout on his arm. It was petty, but he didn’t fucking care. “I’ll figure it out.”
“That’s what I want to hear. Get to planning, son. You leave in a week.” And with that, his father headed out of Wyatt’s office, riding that high horse he so loved to be on.
Wyatt leaned his head back on his chair, tipped his glasses up, and ran a hand over his face. Part of him wondered what would happen if he stood up and walked out. Quit. The fact that his father would even consider giving someone else the CEO position was enough to tempt him to do so. He had enough money to live whatever the hell kind of life he wanted. He didn’t need to be here.
But even the thought sent a gash of loss through him. He loved his job and fed on the play of numbers, on the win of making the right decisions, on the high of knowing he had the answers where others couldn’t see them. This was his life.
If he walked away, what would be left? He didn’t even know who he was outside of this place.
No, he needed to figure this shit out. The socializing aspect of business had always been his Achilles’ heel, but it wasn’t an unlearnable skill. At least he hoped it wasn’t. He could figure out how to play the game. And if he had a beautiful woman with him who did have some social finesse, all the better.
And he had just the woman in mind.
That is, if he could fucking find her.
Wyatt picked up his phone and hit the speed dial.
“A call in the middle of a work day from the suit? Is the building on fire? Have zombies taken over the city?” his brother, Jace, asked, grin evident even over the phone.
“Is there such a thing as a work day for you?” Wyatt lobbed back. “Or do you just sit around while your staff waves you with giant fans?”
“Hmm, there’s a thought,” Jace said, something squeaking in the background. “I’m actually working very hard trying to get the lighting right on a display of high-end glass dildos. Important stuff.”
“Clearly.”
Jace chuckled. “So what’s going on? I know you didn’t call to shoot the shit.”
“How do you know that?”
“Come on, Wy.”
Wyatt frowned. Was he really that bad at the social thing? Even with his brother? Probably. Yes. “Remember back when I helped
