“Really?” I say.
She nods. “I thought he was really hot.”
“How young?” Ryke asks.
“Twelve, thirteen, somewhere around there. He was my first crush.”
A cool breeze washes over my hot anxiety as I begin to realize that I may not be so different from everyone else. It doesn’t extinguish all the bad parts, but it makes me feel a bit better in a way.
Ryke stares at her with this hard, dark gaze. “My little brother was your first f**king crush.”
“If only you knew me back then,” she says, swinging her legs.
He shakes his head. “I’m glad I didn’t know you back then. I would’ve been twenty.” And then he glances at me. “We’re okay now?”
I let out a deep breath. “I think so.” I doubt I’ll feel good about being aroused by their make-out sessions, but at least I know that it’s not the biggest regression on my part. I just have to believe that it’s okay. What Lo always says. And try to squash my arousal. I’m just happy that my hormones may go back to their usual level after I give birth.
At least, I hope they do.
“Good. I f**king missed you.” He did? “Maybe you should pee your pants more often.” He almost smiles. There is the Ryke Meadows I know…and yes, I love him too.
I squint, trying to narrow my eyes. “Not funny.” And then I trash my dirty clothes and head to the door, possessing way more confidence than I had. I’m not sure where it came from. Probably both my sister and Lo’s brother. It’s strange how other people can boost you to a higher, better place than you were before.
Ryke clips his backpack to his chest again. “Alright, I’m f**king out of here.”
I don’t want to mention how he’s made a very surly first impression with the board. It’s best that he stays oblivious to it so I can beat him.
Daisy hops off the sink counter and says, “Can I ask for another favor before you leave? Don’t freak out though.”
His stares down at her, questioningly. “What is it?” I have no idea where she’s going with this.
Though she seems nervous, fiddling with her fingers. “Can you…kiss me in front of everyone on your way out?” Oh, good plan! The men will realize that she’s clearly with Ryke and they may stop being so handsy.
“Why?” Ryke asks tensely. He’s smart enough to guess, so the muscles in his shoulders already bind.
“I want everyone to know that we’re together,” she says with a forced smile.
Ryke sees through it. “Which one of those f**king guys is all over you?” All of them.
“None,” she says. “A couple are just touchy-feely.”
“Oh yeah?” Ryke is boiling. “Where’d they f**king touch you?”
“You said you wouldn’t freak out,” she says.
“I never made that f**king promise,” he retorts. “There are so many reasons why I don’t want you here, and this is becoming the worst one. Not to mention you’re starting to hide your scar—”
“Just never mind,” she cuts him off. “I’m sorry I asked for your help.”
Is this the beginning of a Raisy fight? I will not let this happen. I interject, physically standing between them by the shut door. “I saw the men,” I tell Ryke, pulling his attention on me. “And they really weren’t that bad, but I do think it’d be a good idea if they were reminded that you two love each other.”
Ryke’s jaw muscles tic. “Maybe I should just stay for the rest of the lunch.”
“No,” Daisy says. “You have to trust me.”
After a couple seconds, he nods. “Okay.”
I exhale. Thank God.
He sets a hand on her head. “This is f**king killing me.” He hates seeing her in this world. After this afternoon, I do too. There is something about Daisy that feels too contained and unnatural in a corporate setting. It’s not the real her, not completely. She can’t stand on tables and make speeches. She can’t do cartwheels along the carpet.
She can’t scream at the top of her lungs.
Or run na**d down the hall, no one restraining her as she bolts away as fast as she can.
“It’s better this way,” she breathes.
“In what world, Calloway?” he asks. “Because in mine, you’re free.”
I step forward first and clasp the knob, waiting for them. Then Daisy nods to me like, I’m ready. And when I open the door, we all enter the conference room.
“They’re back,” Daniel exclaims, raising his glass to me. Everyone isn’t staring at me with shame or pity. They all just smile, talk and wave me over to one of the high-tables. Acting mature about the whole ordeal. They are adults. I’m the one trying to fit in.
While I head over to Rachel and Irene, I watch Ryke and Daisy stop in the middle of the room. Their body language says that he’s telling her goodbye before he leaves. And his hand is lost in her hair, after briefly eye-fucking, he kisses her with tongue.
I look away before my body responds, and I plant my gaze on the gaggle of men by a high-table. Some shrink back, though the majority of the ten men stand tall. The moment that Ryke breaks from Daisy and begins walking to the elevator, he shoots the men one of the most territorial glowers. Now more than a couple guys step backwards.
Message received.
“I’ll give him this,” Irene says, sidling next to me as Ryke disappears into the elevator, “he knows how to make an entrance and an exit.” She sips her champagne. “Just like his father.”
I have no idea who is going to win this, I realize.
If they warm to Ryke’s personality as it is, then we’re all screwed. The future CEO of Hale Co. could be any one of us. If I learned anything today, it’s that Ryke and Daisy’s relationship will not survive if one of them takes this position.
It has to be me.
25
LOREN HALE
“How’d it go?” Lily asks me.
She chose after we had sex and took (separate) showers to bring up my meeting with the Hale Co. board members a few hours ago.
“They’re already engraving my name on the door,” I say, flashing a dry smile while I towel-dry my hair.
Her lips downturn, not exactly excited about that possibility. “You don’t really want it, do you?” She steps into cotton shorts and pulls on a baggy t-shirt to sleep in.
“It’s my destiny,” I say dramatically, touching my chest.
“I’m serious, Lo,” she whispers, her eyes on the ground for a second.
It’s easier to joke about it. I tie my drawstring pants and remember how all the board members treated me this afternoon. I went in with the same irritated expression I always wear, and they weren’t put off by me. They listened to everything I had to say. Never dismissed my comments. Always seemed interested. It was strange. And by the end, I realized that my father must’ve told them to treat me well. Something I never thought he’d do.
It’s made me uneasy all night. I didn’t earn this respect. It was just handed to me. My dad has always taught me to work hard for what I have, and for him to just pass this over to me—it goes against too many years of screaming matches and lectures.
I tug her to my bare chest. “I’m grateful for this opportunity.” It’s as rehearsed as it sounds, but somewhere beneath fear of this life I was meant to live, I am grateful.