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Chapter one
Grant
“You’realreadyforty-five,”saysDon, his voice only tinny through the phone line. “I know that you’re waiting for the right one, but this is getting to be a bit much, don’t you think?”
I bite back a groan, scrubbing at my face instead, and then drop both hands against the granite countertop. The call is on speakerphone, so I can finish cooking dinner while I speak with my father. “I know how old I am, Dad.”
“Then you know what I’m talking about. You aren’t a kid anymore. I’m worried. What’s going to happen when you’re my age, and you still don’t have anyone that you can lean on?” Don insists.
“There’s nothing wrong with being single,” I argue. After another moment of privately mourning my peaceful evening, I pull open the cabinet above the counter and snatch out a box of tortellini. I can technically make them from scratch—thank you, Jessica, you were the best ex-girlfriend my family never knew about—but that’s too much work when I’m the only one eating it.
“You’re right,” says Don, but it’s clear from the tone of his voice that he’s about to gear up for something else. “When you’re twenty there is nothing wrong with it. You’re very much past that, Grant. And we both know that your brother is never going to grow up enough to settle down and get married.”
Don gets on kicks like this.
Family is number one to my father. And I get it. Family is high on the priority list for me, too. But where he’s always wanted to see the family grow, I’ve always been more interested in watching it succeed. Denfield Global has become my life. And while the business is already successful, I’m still working crazy long hours, dumping my whole self into it. You could say I’m a workaholic.
It’s just that for years I’ve been trying to prove to my dad, to my whole family for that matter, that I’m worthy of being the next CEO. Once that happens, I’ll see if I can find someone to share all of this success with.
And if I can’t—I think that that might actually break my father’s heart more than it could ever break mine.
“I just haven’t found someone that I want to be with,” I tell him, trying to wriggle my way out of this conversation. I grab the olive oil and pour it into the pan. The water is put on to boil, and soon, even with my father talking the whole time, I’ve got the tortellini cooking and the sauce on as well.
The sound of the oil popping is a good one. I would never want to monetize this, but I do wish I could cook for other people more often. My brother and my parents live in other states, a family spread out in three directions.
But—my niece and sister-in-law live next door.
“Hey, do you know if Brooke likes mushrooms?” I ask, interrupting my father.
There’s a long pause, and then Don gives a low laugh. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about, Grant. You love kids.”
“I love my niece,” I correct. “Other kids, not so much.”
“Grant, don't be ridiculous. You will love your own children just as much as you love Brooke. And, even if it’s hard to imagine, you might love them even more.”
I don’t think that is possible actually. I never knew I could love someone as honestly and fully as I love Brooke. I would walk on fire for that little girl. “Brooke will always be my number one girl, Dad,” I tell him earnestly.
“Well, you have practically been a father to that girl since—” The accident. My father doesn’t finish the sentence. He clears his throat and continues, “I know that you would love to have kids of your own. As long as you don’t wait too long. You don’t want to be using a walker when you’re walking someone down the aisle.”
“Oh my God!” I can’t help but laugh at that one. “You do realize how awful that sounds, right?”
Don protests, “It’s not awful! It’s honest! Everyone has a clock, Grant, and no one knows when it’s going to come to a stop. You want to have someone that you can rely on before that happens.”
I know that losing my older brother really affected my dad. It affected the whole family. A wave of sadness crashes over me, making me stop for a moment. It’s been four years, but that’s the sort of pain that never goes away.
“I’m not going to run out of time,” I assure him. “But my dinner’s almost done. I’m going to get off, okay?”
“Fine, fine, but don’t forget about the trip we have coming up,” Don tells me. “I swear, I’ve told your brother four times, and he acts like it’s new information each go around.”
“He’s just messing with you,” I say. “You’ve never gotten his sense of humor.”
“That’s because he doesn’t have one,” Don grouses. “But fine, fine, tell my granddaughter I said hello.”
We take a few moments longer to finish up our goodbyes, and then I gather up the tortellini and the white butter sauce that I made, dumping them into two plastic containers and snapping the lids on. I add the containers and a jar of lemonade to my pre-packed picnic basket.
The business trip that’s coming up is a really big one for the company. We need to secure this new account, to ensure that the company is able to continue branching off in the right directions. And I’m pretty sure that my father is planning on using it as a test too, to see whether me or my younger brother is a better fit to become the new CEO.
A part of me thinks that it would be nice to find someone that I could bring along on this trip. Not only would it make my father happy to see that I had taken his wishes to heart and actually started looking for that special someone—but that might also make him see how committed I am to doing what’s best for the family and the company. Because—clearly—all the business deals I’ve secured in the last decade, have not been enough.
