Nash smirks. “The word obscene sounds wrong in your mouth, Blake.”
The team assembled in the conference room laughs. Everyone except Herman, who’s sitting across the table from Nash.
If Herman’s the Tin Man, Nash is my Wizard, making things happen, no green curtain required.
Seated next to Herman is Maude Sloane who runs PR. She’s the Dorothy of this crew. Brave and beautiful. Obsessed with dogs. She literally carries one in her purse.
Oddly enough, our head of human resources is actually named Dorothy. Dorothy Jensen’s our resident Scarecrow. And by that I mean smart. Not stuffed with straw.
“All right, everyone.” I flash a look of warning at Nash. “Let’s hear Herman out.”
Herman’s mouth takes a thin line. That’s as close as he gets to agreeing with me.
“I assume everyone’s had a chance to look over the proposals we received from Stone Corp and INTERSECT,” he says. “They focus on commercial properties. WB deals with private partnerships.”
Partnerships. Right. Except they don’t want to partner with us. They want to digest McCoy Construction. We’re the best in the Pacific Northwest, and World Build’s is the third proposal we’ve received. Our investors are getting restless, and a lot of the old guard wants to sell. I get why. It’s hard to envision this place without Ted McCoy. Plus it’s no secret I never wanted to fill his shoes. I’m doing my best, but my heart and mind aren’t here. They’re back at home.
Sorry, Dad.
I glance around the conference table. “What do the rest of you think about World Build?”
Herman answers first. Big surprise. “Their offer’s the strongest.”
“I agree,” Dorothy Jenson adds. “And it’s not just the dollar amount. They’ve agreed to keep everyone on. No personnel changes. No job loss. That’s huge, Mac.”
Nash clears his throat. “You two sound like you’ve sold the place already. Maybe the first decision should be whether or not we sell at all.” He cuts his eyes to me. “Not to step on your toes, boss.”
“No, you’re right, Nash.”
The truth is, I’m still torn between what’s best for McCoys and what’s best for me. And Nash knows that better than anyone. When Gwen kept pushing me to take on a larger role here, Nash was more supportive than my wife was. All I wanted to do back then was design furniture. And that worked fine as long as Dad was alive.
But he’s gone, and I’m in charge by default. I can’t help thinking, if another company absorbed us, I could step back from my role as CEO. Maybe even step down.
But keeping this company in the family meant everything to Dad. Nash knows that better than anyone else too.
“We already know what not selling looks like,” I say. “So if we’re comparing offers to buy, whose is the best?”
Nash leans over the table. “In that case, there are drawbacks to World Build.” He points to the report in front of me. “We’re a big company, don’t get me wrong. But World’s a behemoth. Their focus is profit. If we let those guys buy us out, we risk the guarantee of quality and oversight McCoy Construction stakes its reputation on.” Nash slides a different report over. “INTERSECT, on the other hand, is about slow growth. Their projects promote long-term sustainability. They could expand Ted McCoy’s vision instead of shrinking it.”
Herman Blake scoffs. “Hmph.” His scowl could power all of Apple Valley. “So-called sustainability is one thing. Money is another. Ted McCoy understood the bottom line. He would want this company to increase profits. That’s what could happen if we agree to let our brand be absorbed by a larger conglomeration.”
Nash jumps in. “You’re wrong, Blake. Mr. McCoy envisioned this company as a legacy to pass down for generations. That’s the brand he built for years. That’s why the Willamette Valley’s full of billboards and bus benches and fliers and television commercials and social media claiming McCoys Puts Families First.”
Maude Sloane lifts a finger to signal she wants to speak. The woman’s all patience on the surface, but underneath, she’s a pit bull. “I say we take advantage of public opinion by engaging in more charitable projects over the next quarter. Homes 4 Humans is a great non-profit doing pro-bono work all over the Midwest. If we get them to come work with us here, now, we could double our asking price next year. Ted McCoy was a believer in—”
“Hold on,” I interrupt. “I know everyone means well. But tread lightly when you use my father’s name.”
Nash makes eye contact with me. “Mac’s right.”
Herman Blake’s scowl deepens. Now he’s powering all of Oregon. “All due respect, Mr. Hendrix, your place at the table is relatively new.”
“Easy there, Herman.” My voice is a growl. The Tin Man better watch it. Nash has worked here longer than I have. He took my place when I took my father’s. “Nash belongs here as much as anyone.”
Herman mumbles, “Agree to disagree.”
“Anyway.” I indicate the reports stacked in front of me. “Everyone’s got a copy of World Build’s proposal. There’s a lot to digest in there.” I take a beat. “More than the dollar signs if we do decide to sell. I’d like us each to weigh the pros and cons of our options. Individually. Including a pro-bono partnership with Homes 4 Humans.”
Maude turns to Herman. “What’s the timeline on this?”
Another scowl from him. “The rep at World Build wants an answer within two weeks.”
“Great,” I say. “Let’s all take that time to investigate these offers. Prepare to make your case for whichever outcome you support. Bring your best arguments, people. We’ll reconvene at the beginning of September. Sound good?”
Everyone nods and stands. Herman whispers something to Maude. I can’t tell if he’s supporting me or complaining. But Dad left the company to me—whether I wanted it or not.
“Before you all leave,” I say, “I hope everyone here knows I not only want what’s best for the people in this room, but what’s best for our roster of investors. And the broader population. These are big questions. They deserve a carefully thought-out answer.”
Nash comes around the table and reaches out a hand. “Right on, boss.”
Herman mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like, “Brown-noser.”
I ignore him and shake Nash’s hand.
“Your dad would be proud,” he says.
Man, I sure hope so.
Later that night, Tess, Daisy, and I are halfway through a jumbo deep dish by the time Brooke knocks on the door. Huh. She’s got a key. But maybe my sister being here is throwing her off. Or maybe she’s just feeling awkward in general.
Either way I know the feeling.
Tess hops up from the table. “I’ll get it!”
Brooke walks into the kitchen, and my palms are already sweating.
“Hi.” She nods and ducks her head. She’s wearing a long skirt with a white sweater thrown over her shoulders. Cashmere maybe. I don’t know. It looks so soft, I want to reach out and touch it. I want to touch her.
Whoa. Cool your jets, Mac.
But that’s easier said than done. Because Brooke is beautiful even before she smiles at Daisy. When she looks at me, I’m suddenly seeing into the future.
I see her in my future.
But I can’t do that.
Can I?
“You’re here!” I leap up so quickly, my chair almost topples. I scramble to catch it. Straighten. Recover. Phew.
Definitely not cool.
Brooke checks behind her like it’s possible she’s being punked, and I can’t blame her. Of course she’s here. I want to act normal, but I’m grinning so big it feels like my mouth won’t fit on my face. I must look like a nutcase.
Daisy pokes me in the ear.
My daughter wants me to be cool too.
“Tess, this is Brooke Wallace,” I say. “Brooke, this is my sister, Tess … ummm …”
“Bradford,” Tess pipes in before I accidentally say McCoy. My heart starts pumping extra hard.<
br />
I owe my sister big time.
“Tess and I met at the door,” Brooke says. She checks out the pizza in the center of the table. She cocks her head. “No olives?”
“Never fear!” I head to the oven and pull out a second extra-large pizza. “As you wish, milady.” Never fear? Milady? When did I start talking like a knight from Camelot?
Tess is gaping at me. “You’re so weird.”
Daisy bursts into hysterical laughter. “Daddy’s so weird.”
I stand there, gripping the pizza box like I’m about to serve King Arthur at the round table. In the meantime, Tess springs into action, collecting an extra plate from the cabinet for Brooke.
“Mac’s been telling me about your apartment situation,” she says.
Fantastic.
Now Brooke knows we’ve been talking behind her back.
“Do you think you’ll get kicked out?” Tess asks.
Brooke flinches. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”
Now it’s Daisy’s turn to save the day. She points to the spot next to her. “Sit here, Book. Sit here!”
Tess sets down a plate in front of the empty chair, and Brooke takes a seat while I come over with the warm pizza box.
“Extra olives as requested.”
“Thanks. I’m totally starving.” Brooke takes three slices and drops them on her plate.
“Strong work, milady.”
Seriously. Did I just say milady for the second time?
I might need a medieval intervention.
“Anyway, who’s ready for breadsticks?” I ask, hoping to shift the focus off me.
Tess shoots a hand in the air. “I volunteer as tribute!”
Daisy starts laughing again, and this time Brooke joins in. So.
Maybe I haven’t completely blown it with my weirdness already.
While they dig into their pizza, I refill water glasses and slip the tray of breadsticks from the oven. I set it on the table. Daisy takes one first, then Tess. Brooke goes last.
Then she turns to Tess. “Mac told me you’re taking the LSATs tomorrow. That’s huge. Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Tess lifts her breadstick in the air. “Here’s to putting that bit of stress in the rearview.”
I raise my breadstick too. “Next stop, Harvard Law!” Instead of using our water glasses to toast, Tess and I clink breadsticks.
Ten out of ten on the weirdness scale.
When I notice Brooke staring, I quickly steer the attention back to Tess.
“My baby sister’s a genius,” I say. “She got my share of the brains for sure.”
Tess rolls her eyes. “First, that’s not how intelligence works. Also don’t be stupid, Mac.” She turns to Brooke. “He’s always like this, you know. Bragging about me. Looking out for me. Watching over my shoulder. A little too close for comfort.”
“Oh, really?” Brooke’s mouth twitches.
“Yes.” Tess chomps on her breadstick, talking while she chews. I’d point it out, except for the irony.
“The guy means well,” she says with her mouth full. “But sometimes it’s … smothering.” She pauses to swallow. “He does it with my sisters too. Darby and Olivia.”
I gasp with mock outrage. “I do not!”
“Ha!” Tess scoffs. “I mean, I love you, Mac, but you’re always trying to rescue us. Fixing things on our behalf. It’s exhausting.”
Brooke darts a glance at me. “Gosh. I can only imagine.”
I take a long drink of water. Clear my throat. “Yeah. I’m starting to rethink the brilliant idea of getting you two together.”
Tess chuckles. “Aww, come on, Mac. I’ve been giving you a hard time for twenty-one years. You ought to be tough enough by now.”
Brooke looks at me, and her eyes twinkle. “Yeah, tough guy.”
Daisy squeezes my biceps and laughs. “Daddy’s so tough.”
To keep her laughing, I pick up a slice of pizza in each hand, lift my arms up high and roar.
“I’m so big and tough, I can’t put my arms down!”
Tess smirks. “More like your ego’s too big.”
I wink at her. “You know it, sister.” When I flex my muscles, I catch Brooke checking out my biceps. Her cheeks pink up and I keep flexing. She can look all she wants.
“Daddy!” Daisy squeals.
“I am the Hulk,” I growl. “Incredible!”
Tess tosses a napkin in my face. “Eww. Enough about your buffness. Can we please change the subject?”
As if on cue, Brooke’s phone buzzes in her backpack. She pulls out her phone and checks the screen.
Her face goes white.
This doesn’t look good.
I probably shouldn’t be acting like an idiot when Brooke’s eyes are that big.
I lower my arms. “Bad news?”
“Worse than bad.” Brooke drops her phone. “It’s my mother.”
21
Brooke
Daisy’s kicking her legs, her feet banging the underside of the table. The beats match the pounding in my heart. I can see her lips move, but I can’t hear what she’s saying.
It’s like my ears are stuffed with cotton.
So she keeps repeating herself until she’s basically yelling. “Bad news! Bad news! Bad news!”
Mac wipes his hands on his jeans. “Daisy. Shush.”
I look at the phone in my lap. And the text.
Mom: Enough is enough. We’re flying up to get you.
Tess is already out of her seat. “What’s going on? Is your mom all right?” She comes over to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders.
Great. She was supposed to help pull me away from Mac and Daisy because I like them too much.
Now I like her too.
“She’s coming to Apple Valley.” I gulp. “My dad too.”
“And that’s bad?”
The lump in my throat rises, and everything that’s happened in the past few months comes rushing back. Pain I never wanted to share with anyone or think about again.
“I don’t want to see either of them.”
“Ugh. That’s not good.” Tess slips back to her seat. “What happened with your parents?”
Mac shoots a warning look at her. “Tess.”
Tess shrugs. “What?”
My stomach twists. “It’s kind of a long story. But the short answer is that I moved up here to get away from them. From all of it.” I lift my gaze. “And I know they’re going to try to take me home.”
“No!” Daisy slides out of her seat, comes around the table, and climbs onto my lap. She wags a finger in front of me. “No, Book. No! Don’t go home. Stay with us.”
“Daisy. Give Brooke some space.” Mac scoots his chair back with a loud scrape. It hurts my ears. And my heart. “If she needs to go, we’ll be fine,” he says. “Family is family.”
He turns to me and his eyes search mine. They’re soft at the edges but dark in the center.
He’s worried about me, yes. But he’s more worried about Daisy. I get that.
Family is family.
My nose starts to sting. “I’ll just tell my parents I made a commitment. They won’t like it, but a deal’s a deal.”
In other words, don’t let me go.
Mac exhales long and loud. “It’s up to you, Brooke.” He rubs the back of his neck. “We never signed a contract, so I can’t ask you to stay. I won’t ask you to.”
Now my eyes are getting wet. I wipe them with my sleeve. “So you’re saying you don’t need me anymore?”
Mac clenches his jaw. “That’s not what I said.”
Tess heads to the pantry. She finds some foil and begins to wrap up the pizza.
When Mac sees what she’s doing, he stands. “Leave the pizza out. Brooke’s barely eaten.”
“That’s all right.” I stare at the slices on my plate. “My appetite’s pretty shot.”
Tess shifts her focus between Mac and me. His shoulders are slumped, and my cheeks are wet. “I’ll leave th
e pizza out,” she says. “But I’m going to take Daisy for a while. Just the two of us. That way the two of you will have some time to talk.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Mac’s voice is gruff.
“I know.” She shrugs. “But I’m craving mint chocolate chip ice cream, and you don’t have any. I already checked.”
As soon as Daisy hears this, she hops off my lap and runs to Tess. “Chocolate chip! Chocolate chip!” She leaps onto Tess, piggyback style. “Yes, Auntie Tessie!”
Family is family.
Tess turns toward us. “My niece has spoken. There’s no backing out now.” She moves toward the door with Daisy hanging off her back.
Daisy starts singing some made up song about vanilla versus chocolate, and my insides churn. I miss her already, and I’m still sitting here.
What will happen when I actually leave?
Will she be okay? Will Mac? My heart aches at the thought of hurting them. Maybe I’ll be hurting them more than before. Emi’s right. I was crazy to take this job.
I should get out while I can. Before the pain’s too big.
“Brooke.”
Mac is standing above me, reaching out his hand. All rough callouses and smooth palm. The warmth of his skin floods through me, and for a moment, neither of us moves. Then our fingers entwine and I’m up from the chair, inches from Mac.
I tip my face up, up, up, and a shiver travels down my spine.
We’ve never been alone like this before. Daisy’s always been there. Either in between us—literally—or right upstairs. Now the space feels small. Like, if I move only an inch, we’ll be pressed against each other.
I drop his hand. He takes a step backward.
“Should we talk in the other room?” he asks. “The couch is more comfortable. Not that the kitchen table isn’t comfortable. I—” He cuts himself off. “I’m rambling.”
I nod because I don’t trust myself to speak. I’m scared to blurt out something about how bad my mother makes me feel. Or how good Mac smells right now.
What is wrong with me?
Without another word, I head to the couch. I take a seat in one corner and wait for Mac. He’s got the pizza box and our plates. He lays them on the coffee table. “I figured you’d want some more food, but you don’t have to eat if you’re not feeling—”
The Mostly Real McCoy: A Sweet Romantic Comedy (Apple Valley Love Stories Book 1) Page 12
