There was always hope for Charlotte and me.
Even Jobe tried to help me see it.
“You have to be fucking kidding me.” I jump at the sound of Franklin’s thunderous voice echoing from behind the thick, double wooden doors.
Hayley looks at me and smiles. “You get used to it.”
I nod and place the magazine of myself on the top of the pile. Franklin is the composed one of the family, always patient and understanding. Charlotte told me not to be fooled. You never want to upset Franklin. With a voice like thunder, I get it.
Hayley picks up her phone. “Yes, Franklin. Okay.” She looks over at me. “Mr. Hendricks will see you now.”
“I can wait if he needs a moment.” Because I’d appreciate him taking a few deep breaths.
“He doesn’t have a spare moment.” She smiles and nods to his door.
Fuck.
I push open the large wooden door, which is heavier than it looks. I peer in, and Franklin is standing at a large window with his back to me. Dressed in a black suit, his short, dark hair around the collar, he looks out over the city as though pondering his life.
“Morning, Franklin.” He spins and walks around his desk to shake my hand. “I hope it’s not a bad time.”
He smiles and shakes my hand. “When you come to my office, it’s always a bad time.”
I jab a thumb over my shoulder. “I can go?”
“Take a seat, BJ.”
I immediately sit, and he leans his rear on the corner ofhis desk, casually crossing his ankles. It feels less formal this way, for which I’m thankful.
“I wanted some advice, but now it sounds dumb to take up your time.”
“Let me be the judge. I have just dealt with idiots who tried to fuck me up the ass.” He loosens his tie around his neck. “You’re not on my list of fuckwits, and it must be important to come here and speak to me. I assume it involves my sister?”
“Yes, sir.”
He frowns at me. “Since when do you call me sir?”
I look around at his opulent office, which is the size of a small apartment with the highest ceilings I have seen in a business room. “I dunno. It seems like I should be calling you sir, sitting here in this big-arse office and next to your big-arse desk.”
He grins. “You must have abig-arseproblem.”
I smirk at the way he says arse instead of ass, trying to imitate my Aussie accent.
“Not really. I need a future after I finish playing ball. Something to set Charlotte and me up.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Before I ask if you popped the question because I hope not since it’s mere months since your reconciliation, is it premature to think you have a future together?”
“Nope.”
“Brandon. Do you know my history? I was older than you when I thought I was proposing to the love of my life.”
“Yeah, but she wasn’t. Penny was. Lottie and I know. I’m not going to fight it like you did when you first met Penny. This is not new to us. When you know, you know, so why waste years waiting?”
“I can see I’m going to need a drink for thisconversation.” He walks to a table with a decanter of whiskey, and I refrain from commenting on the time.
“Humor me. What investments are you seeking advice on? I assume you know nothing about our family’s investments, and Lottie is set for life and probably her children’s lives.”
“I don’t want to rely on your family’s money. I want to support her.”
