Her eyes bug out. “You really don’t even read the agenda?”
“Why would I do that? That’s what I have you for. Unless voting harms the man who’s no longer a father to us, abstain from every vote. Abstaining always disrupts the vote count for whatever agenda they’re pushing. I see my shares as merely stock—the last tie to what grandmother wanted.”
She cuts the chicken in her salad and wobbles her head. “That also works.”
“Then why do you insist on going?”
Caroline shrugs, before popping the food into her mouth. “I don’t know. Curiosity, perhaps.” She speaks with her mouth full.
“Well, you enjoy that and don’t let me know how it goes. I’ll even let you vote on my behalf for once as your early birthday present. So go wild as long as it screws something up.”
She holds her palm up to ease me. “Fine. I get the hint. No more discussion on this.” She drops her hand. “What else is new? You know, I’ve decided that I’m putting in my will that if I die, you get my kids.”
I look at her strangely. “You don’t have kids.”
"Yes. But maybe one day I will." She’s playing hypotheticals again. Sometimes, out of nowhere, she plans her life. Last time, it was a vacation house in Aspen—she hates snow.
“Don’t do something so stupid. I’m horrible with kids.”
“Speaking of which, how’s the hunt for a wife going?”
I scratch my chin. "I’ll take that as, is there a woman in my life?"
She grins because she enjoys putting me on the spot. “Yep.”
My chest tightens. Conflict hits hard—a surge of fear, resentment, and hope. “There’s nobody.” Except someone twisting everything inside me—everything I hate. Yet for the first time, someone is winning me over, and it terrifies me.
“Oh, that’s a shame. Someone mentioned they saw you at the gala with someone.”
I hum in acknowledgment. “That was my assistant, Savannah.”
She butters her roll, and I’m beginning to lose my own appetite because thoughts of Savannah can’t be escaped. To the point that I’m debating if I should bring her a piece of s'mores pie back to the office, as it’s an award-winning dessert here, although she is probably the best dessert on the menu today. But my last gift of a necklace was not well received, probably because I shamefully didn’t own up to it. It’s complicated between us, but I wanted her to have something nice to celebrate her accomplishment. I failed to think through the coward angle.
“Ah, okay. I admittedly searched the internet for a photo from the night, and my eye caught one. She’s pretty. Younger, but pretty. Beautiful, actually. Hopefully, you keep her around for a while.”
She isn’t going to make a suggestion that Savannah and I could be anything else because we both despise mixing work with pleasure. Yet, that’s all I seem to be doing lately.
A glance at my watch reminds me of the meeting I have in half an hour, and an odd sensation of wanting to stay longer tugs at me. I mask it with a joke as I flag down thewaiter. “It’s been fun, we should do this more often. Let’s say in six months?”
My sister smiles. “Totally.”
When the waiter approaches, I debate ordering dessert. But for the first time lately, I’m smart.
Savannahand I watch as another candidate for the COO position vanishes into the elevator. The moment the doors close, I tip my head in the direction of my office, and she follows me in tow, closing the door behind her. If it weren’t for the fact that I need privacy during calls and meetings, I think I would rip the door off its hinges to ensure I can never be in a closed room with her. It’s tempting, risky, and far too confronting of the memory of the curve of her spine.
“That was horrible,” she begins.
"Very," I agree, reaching the coffee machine. We saw the last candidate only as a favor to my high-up in finance; he was stiff and would never think outside the box. I start my coffee, then give her a brief glance and raise a cup to see if she wants one. Inviting her to stay for coffee has been another dicey move lately.
She shakes her head. “No, thanks. It’s after 12. You shouldn’t drink so much coffee. It isn’t good for sleep.”
“I sleep fine, as you kn—” I stop myself from finishing the sentence, but the damage is done, and we both know what I meant.
“Fine. You shouldn’t drink it because it spikes your blood sugar before making you crash. It wrecks your mood. We go from nearly tolerable Julian to devil incarnate. It’s bad for humanity.” Her knack for keeping us on track is a godsend.
The corner of my mouth tugs from her humor, but I don’tlet her see as I keep my back to her while finishing my coffee. “You’ve highlighted that many times.”
“It wasn’t in my job description, so I took the liberty of adding it. Anyhow, you need someone for the job who is an all-rounder, smiles, yet can relate to someone who thinks in numbers or IT.”
