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CHAPTER7
ALEX
“Morning, princess.”
I sit up with a jerk, my eyes bleary with lack of sleep as they land on a fresh-faced, smiling Grayson Hunter.
“What time is it?” My words sound slurred as I rub my eyes. “And where’s the fucking coffee?”
Grayson drops a travel mug down in front of me. “Macchiato from Pearse’s.” He looks at me pointedly. “You’re welcome.”
I close my hand around the handle and bring it to my lips with a grumble. “If you’re looking for a thanks, you won’t find one here. Today wasyourturn.”
“Actually,yesterdaywas my turn, but that meeting with Henry fucked with our routine, so…”
He trails off with an expectant look on his face. And considering the mess ahead of me, I know I’ll get through it faster with his help. “Thank you.”
Tipping his head, my CFO slides into the seat opposite mine, and without waiting—which is one of the things that makes him so damn good at his job—he gets ahead of the game, even surprising me this time.
“Your debacle at Molly Malones is being handled. Why you thought you needed to do it yourself is beyond me.”
My forehead creases as visions of my scuffle with Chad Freemont—and of a tiny dancer with chocolate eyes and smooth, tan skin—flit through my sleep-addled brain.
“How did you know?”
He barks a laugh while shaking his head. “Ah, DeMarco, DeMarco, DeMarco. Use your brain for once.”
I narrow my eyes as I take a big gulp of the steaming brew in my hand, but he disregards me entirely. “It was a simple matter of following hashtags, my friend. Vaughn’s tech guy used some hashtag tracking software, setting it up from the second you left here yesterday, and when the hashtags that were most apt—like your name, for instance—started to be used, we were able to get them removed or restricted within moments of each upload.”
I take another sip of my coffee, nodding my head. “So…sleeping on my desk was—”
“Classic Alex.” He shrugs before leaning back in the chair, steepling his fingers and resting them on his stomach.
I open my mouth to disagree wholeheartedly with that statement, when there’s a knock on the office door.
“Come in.”
Bailey’s head pops around the door. “Henry’s just arrived. He’s asking for you both in Boardroom Three.”
He presses his lips together, almost in an apologetic move, and I know that what I’m about to face is the worst of the worst. “Thank you, Bailey.”
Grayson stands first, giving me a pitying look as Bailey closes my office door behind him. “Let’s just get this over with.”
I stand to face him, giving him a sharp nod. “It can’t possibly be worse than yesterday’s meeting.”
But less than two minutes later, I’m proved completely wrong.
“A fake relationship, Alex. It’s more common than you’d think. Don’t be so fucking obtuse.” Henry rolls his eyes as he tosses an armload of black folders across the table. “I expect you to come to your decision quickly and efficiently.”
“You expectwhat?”
Henry levels me with a look that brooks no argument before leaning back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest.
Despite being seated, while Gray and I stand, my brother is the one with all the power here.
“Don’t play dumb, Al. You heard me. You need a girlfriend to clean up your image. A relationship will take you off the market, there’ll be less of a target on your back, and it will look good to the Board members, some of whom are hoping to see you out on your ass due to rumors swirling that I can’t control. Something needs to change, and fast.”
His eyes pierce me with their severity. “A girlfriend or you’re out, little brother. The choice is all yours.”
