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“A woman, son, dearest,” she replies, confirming that our private joke is still safe from her ire.
As for the changes to the podcast, since neither Mom nor the old guys have ever fully understood the value, they all agree to our proposal to change the name and the format.
The room empties at the top of the second hour, leaving my brothers and me to review what we won and lost.
“I’m relatively pleased,” says Brian.
“I’mrelativelyinsulted,” says Aiden. “What the fuck, Mom?”
“I’m relatively surprised,” Horse adds, “that we achieved as much buy-in as we did.”
They all look at me since I’ve been the driving force behind the proposal we’ve been working on for almost two years. Not with the coaching program—that’s new. But with the other three items on the agenda.
“Will?” Horse shoulders me.
“I am relativelydisgusted.”
“By?” Brian asks, looking confused.
“By the fact that every decision they made was based on the bottom line and their profit potential. Not one of them, not even Mom, considered the people who consume our programs.”
“Sure they did,” Brian says. “They talked a lot about the market.” He looks at me like I might have stroked out for huge parts of the conversation.
“Spoken like a true bean counter.” I shake my head and stand. “I’m hangry. Dinner at my place in an hour?”
“I’ll bring the whisky,” says Aiden.
“Bring the good stuff for a change. I think I might just partake tonight.”
Virginia is spending the night at her place with her sister since tomorrow we’re heading to Lily Valley so I can fulfill my promise to get away from the city and breathe forest air for seventy-two hours before I get on a plane and spend the next nine weeks breathing airplane and hotel air.
26. Virginia
A WILTING WISTERIA
“Oh, come on!” Will hits the steering wheel with his fist and knocks his head twice against the window of his Lincoln Aviator.
I stifle a laugh, even though his fit about being stuck in traffic while sitting in seats more comfortable than any chair I’ve ever owned and listening to music on a sound system that costs more than I earn in a year makes me think of a bratty toddler who’s overtired but doesn’t want to go to bed. It’s not a sexy look on a grown man, but it is amusing.
“People posting in the Sea to Sky Traffic Facebook group say the accident’s been cleared. We should be rolling again in ten minutes or less.” I put my hand on his thigh and squeeze. “The scenery is pretty, isn’t it?”
“It would be nicer from a helicopter,” he grumbles. “Next time we go away for a weekend, we do it my way.”
“I know. And I appreciate you slumming it—”
“Virginia,” he threatens with a glare.
“Sorry. I really do appreciate that you’re stepping out of your comfort zone to spend three days where I’m happiest. Truly.” I undo my seat belt and lean across the foot-wide console armrest that separates us to plant a kiss on his cheek.
He grunts and tilts his head to look in the rearview. I glance at my side mirror and see that our security detail is still standing in the rain outside their vehicle a few cars back, appearing as intimidating as I suspect they would be if anyone approached our car.
I booked the largest house available for rent in Lily Valley, so we’d have enough bedrooms for the entourage of six guards that Will insisted we bring with us. Lately, he’s been even more concerned about being seen than normal. And it’s started to leak into how much control he’s taking over my comings and goings. He won’t even let me leave the Power building without one of his guys within arm’s reach.
Over the last almost three months that I’ve been basically living in Will’s penthouse and working in his building, I’ve gotten a taste of all the things billionaires can’t do due to their wealth. There are so many restrictions that never would’ve occurred to me. Will can’t have a food craving and decide to order takeout from any restaurant that hasn’t been vetted by his security staff. Not that he ever needs takeout, but when a girl wants her comfort food from the greasy spoon that basically fed her as a teen, a high-end, on-call chef just doesn’t fill that need.
Will can’t go to a general admission movie, ever. Not that he really cares. But, when a new Ryan Reynolds film drops, yeah, I want to be first in line to see it so I can gush on fan sites.
And I know from day one that he can’t even go outside for a walk unless he’s accompanied by at least one sharpshooter. In the last couple of weeks, he won’t leave at all.
