Page 37 of Crew Girl

Britney, who sometimes knew him better than he knew himself, waited patiently for him to spill the tea.

Might as well rip the Band-Aid off. Brit was one of the most manipulative, Machiavellian power players he knew. It was what had first attracted him to her. Maybe she’d have some genius idea for destroying Ryder. “I think I just got demoted. I’m supposed to do this internship over the summer, early training for when I take over the family business.”

She nodded, poker face on, encouraged him to continue.

“Only, instead of giving me the internship, Grandad gave it to Ryder.”

Britney, who really would make a great politician, didn’t blink. “I guess you’ll have to get it back.”

Yeah, right. When Ryder and his mom had waltzed into Grandad’s office at the very moment Josh had thought he was going to be anointed? The huge, self-satisfied grin on Ryder’s face had made him look like a comic-book villain. Like he’d taken an elixir that could double his powers of evil.

Josh had been blindsided. Ryder’s mom, his dad’s half-sister, was the product of one of his grandfather’s affairs. Illegitimate children weren’t supposed to count when it came to things like running the family business. Up until a few weeks ago, Ryder had pretty much stayed in his lane. But now, getting that internship back would be about as easy as pulling a sword from a stone.

Brit took his hand and looked into his eyes, her face a picture of adoration. “Your grandfather’s obviously made a mistake. You know him, Josh. You know somewhere inside that big brain of yours how to show him who the real future CEO of Regis Airlines is.”

There was one way. “I have to get stroke seat back.” Apparently, that was the reason he’d picked Ryder over Josh. Rowing was a big deal in their family. But Josh had always thought—hoped?—it wouldn’t be the only way he could prove to his grandad he had what it took to lead a company. “Getting stroke is going to take time.”

“So,” Britney said, gently encouraging him to clear the wood from the trees. “You have to find something now. What other card in that big stack of yours could you play?”

Inspiration struck. He pulled Brit in for a kiss. If she didn’t become a senator like her mom, she could become a motivational speaker. “He’s coming to my birthday. I could invite the board, dazzle them with my visions for the future. Then Grandad would see I’m a better leader than Ryder and have no choice but to give me the internship.”

“Not if that birthday party of yours has a ‘Young, Rich, and Depraved’ theme.”

“No.” His mind was racing through options. “Course not.” And then he came up with yet another genius idea.

“We’ve just picked the perfect cake for your party,” Ella beamed, throwing a glance at Teagan for a show of support.

She didn’t get it. Didn’t matter. Everything Ella had planned needed to be scrapped.

Once he’d laid out his vision—a new theme, The Illustrious History of Regis Airlines, triple the guest list, including the board and Easton’s rowing committee—he was pretty sure he’d lost a few points on the Polite Young Man front.

Didn’t matter. Polite young men didn’t run companies. Weren’t sitting in stroke seat on their rowing team.

His mom, a pragmatist, clocked the panic in Ella’s eyes, doubled her budget and her fee.

Money was such a sweet-talker.

Teagan dropped her head into her hands. Despairing.

Well, dry those tears, Coxie. Josh Regis was doubling down. Once the Rowing Committee and board of Regis Airlines fell under his spell at the birthday shindig, he’d be back in the stroke seat, rowing himself and the rest of the guys to victory. A champion with an internship that would fast-track him to the top. Just like his dad. Ryder would have to make do with the same job his mom had when she’d weaseled her way into Viktor Regis’s life. The mail room.

TEAGAN

Teagan had to admit her mom had nailed Josh’s seemingly impossible list of demands. Despite only having six days to plan it, the aviation museum she’d hired for Josh’s birthday blowout looked amazing. Fairy lights were strung among the planes, and the staff, as and when they got here, would be dressed like her mom. In surprisingly cute vintage flight attendant uniforms for the women and pilot uniforms for the guys.

The bossa nova band she’d hired to complete the 1960s theme was warming up in the corner. It was like the world’s coolest first-class lounge.

“This really is spectacular, Mom,” Teagan said.

Her mom, who was racing around the place, ticking things off her checklist, screeched to a halt. “Wait a minute,” she said, looking confused. “Was that a compliment?”

Teagan snorted. She and her mom had been getting on a lot better, but they hadn’t reached the combing each other’s hair and braiding it level. “Don’t push it, Mother.”

Her mom gave her a warning look, which turned into a bright smile. “Well, hello there, birthday boy. Welcome to your party!”

Imogen, Josh’s mom, was openly thrilled. “I love bossa nova. And don’t you look wonderful in that cute little stewardess dress.”

Ella flushed at the praise, then stepped back and threw her hands out in presentation mode. “Let me welcome you to Regis Airlines’ Golden Age of Flight. Your flight attendants are looking forward to serving you the finest hors d’oeuvres from their carts. And at the bar, you’ll find the evening’s signature cocktail: the Paper Plane.”