* * *
I stewedas I walked over to the adjacent building. Sadie was an unwelcome distraction. She had broken my printer. She had insulted me. She was eating in the office; we were going to get ants. Now I had to go deal with my brothers. This was not a good week.
“You’re late,” Hunter barked when I walked into the conference room and took my seat.
Remy patted me on the head. “My baby brother’s sitting next to me!”
“Let’s get this over with,” I said, batting his hand away.
“This is a strategy meeting on how best to use Remington’s foundation, the Rural Trust, to spread goodwill with the City of Harrogate and the general population. I know several of us are meeting after this for a more detailed session on the programs and administrative details of the Rural Trust,” Hunter said, flicking through a PowerPoint on the large screen at the front of the conference room. “Remy’s been hosting some initiatives around investment in local farming.”
“It’s important to have a strong local farming community,” Remy said. “And we have the Straw Boys factory, which will provide manufacturing job training to local residents.”
“We are not keeping that name,” I interjected.
“Do you have any better suggestions?” Garrett asked, gray eyes flat as he stared at me.
“Not off the top of my head…”
“Maybe this could be a new job for your personal assistant,” Mace suggested.
“Sadie?” I did not want to think about Sadie with her hand in her bra.You want to see her do that without any clothes on.
“Ask Josie to do it,” I snapped. Josie was Mace’s former assistant and now his girlfriend. She was a marketing whiz. “She could come up with several good names.”
“She’s busy,” Weston interjected. “She’s managing a big marketing project for us.”
“That’s right,” Blade said. “She doesn’t have time for pro bono work.”
“You all need to stop monopolizing my girlfriend’s time,” Mace growled.
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. My brothers were all cavemen, with the exception of Garrett, who was a psychopath.
“If you feel so strongly about it, you change the name,” Garrett said. “Keep in mind, all of you—especially you, Remington—that this foundation is not your personal slush fund. We are not going to throw money at the Rural Trust. It needs to be profitable.”
“But it’s a nonprofit,” I countered.
“Don’t be an idiot,” Garrett sneered. “A nonprofit can turn a profit. It’s all in how it’s taxed.”
“All profits will be invested back into the community,” Remy said firmly.
“Blah, blah, no one cares about the marginally legal financial dealings Greg and Garrett have cooked up,” Weston said. “The Rural Trust is solely about making sure there are no issues with moving ThinkX to Harrogate.”
“That brings us to the most important topic of the meeting,” Blade interjected. “Where in Harrogate are we putting ThinkX’s new headquarters?”
“You’re putting it in Archer’s conference center,” Garrett said, not looking up from his laptop screen. “Next question.”
“No, they aren’t,” Archer said from his spot on the couch.
I rubbed my temples. My brothers gave me a headache.
“Yes, they are,” Hunter said. “In addition, Archer, you need to submit plans for how you’re laying out the conference center.”
“The big issue is we need a maker space that’s going to be run by the Rural Trust,” Weston insisted. “That’s our ‘giving back to the community’ contribution.”
“Why can’t you give us a building in town?” Blade asked irritably.
“I need a break,” I said, jumping up while they all bickered.
