How to Resist Prince Charming

by Linda Kage

“What?” Gloria’s face flamed bright red. “Oh, I, uh, I passed it on to Tom.”

  Braxton froze. “You did?” Dear God, he was going to have to look at Tom. “Why?”

  Gloria quickly glanced from him to Tom and back to Braxton. “It, uh, I was swamped with work and he’d just finished that ad sheet we sent to Consumer Reports, so...” She shrugged.

  Braxton stared at her a moment, wanting to strangle her for making him turn his attention to Lenna’s father.

  Hands fisting under the table, he shifted his eyes across the room. “Tom?”

  Davenport leaned back in his chair, rocking as he folded his hands behind his head. “It’s going good.”

  Studying the man’s face a moment longer, Braxton said, “Would you care to elaborate?”

  Tom’s jaw knotted, his face darkened, and a vein bulged in his temple. “They signed the contract.”

  Braxton wasn’t up for going a round with him this morning, so he merely turned away and murmured, “Good.”

  He switched the topic to budgeting and the allocation of funds, thankful he didn’t have to speak to the arrogant dick through the rest of the meeting.

  After they were finished and people were heading out the door, Pat Foley paused to grin at him. “Guess you had a good weekend, huh, kid?”

  Braxton glanced up.

  Pat winked and slugged him on the back. “Boy, do I remember when I was young and single. Good times. Good times.” He sidled closer. “But I gotta know,” he murmured confidentially low. “Was she really as frisky as it looks?”

  Braxton scowled, too insulted for Lenna’s sake to even be embarrassed. He wondered what Foley would say if he knew he’d just called the very girl who’d labeled him her prince at the Christmas party, frisky. The lecherous old coot.

  Eyes narrowed, he said, “I think you need to go work on the budget I just assigned you.”

  Pat jerked back, surprise in his gaze. Nodding, he cleared his throat and shot out the door.

  Braxton gazed after him. He didn’t realize Pat had just left him alone with Lenna’s dad until Tom spoke.

  “I know your little secret.”

  The papers Brax had been gathering slipped from his hands, scattering across the tabletop.

  Tom knew?

  His eyes about popped out of his head as he looked up. “You do?” Holy God, that was fast. How had he found out? Had Lenna told him?

  Tom nodded.

  Bursting to his feet, Braxton lifted his hands. “Look, I know what you must be thinking.” He paused and squeezed his eyes closed. Lord, what was he saying? “Okay,” he amended. “I have no idea what you’re thinking, but I can imagine you’re very upset right now. And I take full responsibility for this. I never meant it to go that far, and—”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Tom interrupted, staring at Braxton as if he’d lost his marbles.

  Braxton froze and stared back. Oh, hell. Tom didn’t know.

  “What are you talking about?” he hedged.

  “I’m talking about your plans to go international.”

  Braxton gave the other man a blank look before he sank back into his chair. “Oh. Uh…well, I haven’t actually decided to do that yet. I was only researching the possibility of—Wait a second—” He cut himself off. “How do you know about that? I haven’t discussed this with anyone in the firm yet.”

  Tom shook his head and brought his hand to his brow as if he thought Braxton was hopeless. “Kid, when are you going to learn that nothing is a secret around here? If someone sneezes on the first floor, someone else on the fourth is going to say, ‘Bless you.’”

  “Right.” Braxton ran a hand through his hair, shocked the rumor had spread so fast. He was going to have to mind his P’s and Q’s from here on out.

  “Do you realize how risky this venture is?” Tom demanded. “If a project like this fell through, everyone on staff would feel the aftershock. You’d have to lay off—”

  “I know exactly how risky it is,” Braxton cut in. “That’s why I haven’t made a decision yet, why I was looking into every detail before I even brought it up. But I can see from his notes, Dad was considering the possibility too, and—”

  “You’re not your father.”

  Back going straight, Braxton waited a moment to keep from exploding. As calmly as he could, he gritted out, “I realize that.”

  Tom sent him a meaningful scowl. “Then what’s to decide? Don’t risk it, and you won’t lose the company. We’re doing fine as it is.”

  But Braxton didn’t want to do fine. He wanted to do amazing.

  Shaking his head, he frowned at Tom. “Even you can’t deny what an achievement it’d be if we succeeded in getting an international company like Renault on our account and kept them there. Do you know what kind of profits we could spike to if we got a successful overseas trade set up? Hell, it would triple our entire customer base.”

  “Yeah,” Tom admitted, clenching his teeth as he pointed an accusing finger at Braxton. “But it’s still dangerous. If you try this, put all kinds of money into it, and then it falls through, you’ll send us into a decline and maybe put us out of business.”

  Braxton nodded. He was well aware of that fact. But he murmured, “Truth be told, I have every confidence this crew can carry a global seller. Don’t you?”

  Tom just stared at him. “You better do all your research before you make this decision.”

  “I am,” Braxton assured him.

  Turning away as if satisfied with that answer, Tom paused before whirling back to squint at Braxton, dissecting him with his gaze. “Where’s your usual cheeky comeback?”

  Braxton gave Tom a small smile. “Fresh out.”

  Tom studied him a moment longer, looking wary. “What were you talking about earlier, with all that crap about how you knew what I had to be thinking and you going too far?”

  Shaking his head, Braxton shrugged. But from the expression on Tom’s face, he could tell the older man wasn’t going to give it up until he revealed something.

  “I...ah, I went ahead and had Beth order the yellow paper for the warrantee slips, even though I knew you wanted to stick with white. I…I was just going to get a sample sheet printed and run it past the group first, but she ordered an entire batch.”

  He bit his lip and hoped to God Tom bought that excuse. It was true, just not the truth he’d been referring to.

  Brow furrowing, Tom shrugged. “So? Why would you be so bothered with what I thought about it? They’re warrantee slips for crying out loud. Who cares what color they are?”

  Braxton’s mouth fell open. “Who cares?” he exploded. “You’re the one who made such a big stink about it in the first place. Remember?” He ground his teeth together. “You spent twenty minutes in the last meeting arguing your case. Jesus Christ!”

  He propped his elbows on the tabletop and cupped his head in both hands. “I’m getting real tired of having an employee who contradicts me at every turn, especially when I come to find out he never even gave a shit what color the fucking paper was. He just wanted to be an ass.”

  Oh, God, he was starting to lose it.

  “I’m fed up with this, Tom. I would like to have a peaceful work environment one of these days. I would like for us to at least learn to compromise. I’m sick of constantly butting heads with you. At this point, all I really want is to do something you actually approve of without you nitpicking it to death, because your bitching isn’t getting anyone anywhere.”

  Braxton closed his eyes. More than anything in the world, he’d love to have Thomas Davenport’s approval. And his blessing too.

  Letting out a sigh, Braxton opened his eyes and found Tom giving him an odd look. Instead of replying, the older man turned and walked from the room.

  Braxton watched him go. An awful premonition that things were only going to get worse from this point on constricted his chest, making it hard to breathe.

  “Fuck,” he whispered to himself.

  Though
misery clogged his arteries, a reluctant smile twisted his lips as he realized the irony of the moment. He’d been a good boy and left Lenna’s apartment without staying the entire night in difference to Tom’s feelings. And here, Tom still hated him.

  He fisted his hands and shook his head, laughing bitterly until his throat burned.

  He wanted to kick the door on his way out of the meeting room just to burn off a little pent up frustration, but he remained cool. Professional. He’d probably lost it enough for the day.

  Unfortunately, that did nothing to help the frothing dissatisfaction bubbling inside him. When he entered his office a minute later, he found his nineteen-year-old brother sitting behind his desk with his feet kicked up by Braxton’s keyboard,

  Braxton almost yanked Tyler out of the chair to bear hug him. He was that relieved to see a friendly face.

  “You know I never would’ve dared to sit in this chair when Dad was president. But this thing is damn comfortable, bro. Maybe I should’ve fought you for this position when the old man stepped down.”

  Tossing his files from the meeting onto his desk beside Ty’s shoes, Braxton barked out a harsh laugh. “You can have it.”

  “Uh oh.” Tyler leisurely slid his feet to the floor. “That sounds bad. Are the slaves acting up already?”

  “No. No. They’re a ray of fucking sunshine.” Grasping his brother’s arm, he yanked Ty from behind his desk and started back for the door. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I need a drink.”

  “Jesus.” Ty stumbled along after him. “It’s not even—”

  “It’s lunchtime,” Braxton barked. “I am allowed to take a God damn lunch break.”

  “Fine, fine. Whatever you want, Brax. As long as you’re paying, since you’re Mr. Moneybags these days.”

  “Right now, I’d buy you a car to get me an hour of reprieve from this place.”

  “Sold!” Suddenly very chipper, Tyler jauntily fell into step with him. “I’ll take a mustang. Newest model, of course. Black and—”

  “Oh, my God. Shut up.”

  Tyler stopped talking, but he started whistling instead, because he knew how much that annoyed Braxton. Braxton rolled his eyes, actually glad to have his infuriating brother around to distract him.

  Forgetting his command to stay silent, Ty suddenly stopped whistling. “You know, you clean up nice. I like the suit. Makes you look all high and mighty and shit. Except, oh yeah, you got a little lint…right there.” He squinted and brushed an imaginary piece of fluff off Braxton’s sleeve. “Got it. Oh, there’s another.”

  He went for another spot, so Braxton slapped his hand down. “Cut it out.”

  But Tyler Farris ruled in the exasperating department. He was not easily discouraged. “And another.” When he tried to groom Braxton again, Braxton snaked out his arm, catching Tyler around the head. Then he bent Ty forward and gave him the mandatory older-brother noogie.

  “I said to stop touching me, asswipe.”

  As Ty flailed and struggled to get free, cursing Braxton up one wall and down another, Brax grinned, his tense muscles finally relaxing for the first time today…until he turned a corner and spotted Tom, and Charlie, and Pat gathered around the outside of the break room with their heads bent together as they spoke in hushed tones.

  Bitching about the boss at the water cooler, no doubt.

  When they glanced up and caught Braxton grinding his knuckles hard against Tyler’s scalp, they paused. Clenching his teeth for being caught acting childish, Braxton immediately let up his hold and a red-faced Tyler straightened to punch him in the shoulder, retaliating.

  “Bastard,” he muttered before he too caught sight of the men. A charming smile lit his face. “Oh, hey, Mr. Foley. Mr. Fairbanks. Mr. Davenport.”

  “Tyler,” they all greeted with warm familiarity as they stepped forward to shake hands with Braxton’s brother, clasping his shoulder and teasing him about how tall he’d gotten since they’d last seen him.

  Braxton didn’t want to stew in envy, but damn, he remembered back when these very men had treated him with the same affection. It’d only been a couple months ago, about thirty seconds before his dad had announced, “Braxton is going to take my place.”

  “You get better looking every time I see you, boy.” Tom set his hand with a fatherly kind of pride on Ty’s shoulder. “I may have to introduce you to my daughter, Lenna.”

  Braxton stopped breathing as he stared a hole through Davenport’s hand on Tyler. He told himself hadn’t heard what he’d just heard. No freaking way.

  But then Tom went and added, “Do you have a girlfriend these days?”

  What the hell?

  Acid ate through his stomach. Tom had snarled at him when he’d merely looked at her at the damn Christmas party, and here, he was foisting her off on his annoying kid brother?

  No fucking way.

  Tyler flushed, looking utterly uncomfortable. “Uh…no, sir.”

  Tom chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Ah, get that look off your face. She’s beautiful. Trust me.” Then he went and crossed the line. He hitched his chin Braxton’s way. “Just ask your brother. He met her at the Christmas party last month.”

  When everyone turned to him, Braxton pulled in a sharp breath. Tyler lifted an eyebrow in query, and Braxton had to pause to keep from committing murder. But in that second, he hated—absolutely hated—Thomas Davenport.

  Just what made Tyler, the asswipe, acceptable for her while Braxton was so very unacceptable? Jealousy seized him, which pissed him off even more. He didn’t want Tom’s fatherly affection. He hated Tom. But damn it, he still wanted the man’s freaking fatherly affection.

  When Tom scowled, reminding him he hadn’t responded, he clenched his teeth and cleared his throat. “She’s…breathtaking,” he quietly told his brother with all seriousness.

  “There you have it.” Tom grinned and slugged Ty on the back. “I’ll have you two married off within five years.”

  Braxton couldn’t keep his bitterness to himself if he sewed his lips together. “I think Tyler may be too young for her.”

  Tom flashed him a killer glare. “And I think I can figure out for myself what a person is too young for.” Turning back to Ty, his lifted his chin. “How old are you now?”

  “Nineteen,” Ty was quick to answer. He looked relieved, as if his age might get him out of this seemingly arranged marriage.

  “Meh, that’s nothing. I’m five years older than my wife, so three is a blink of an eye.”

  But two years is even better, Braxton wanted to snarl back. I’m more compatible for her than Tyler.

  He had to bite the inside of his lip to keep silent.

  His jaw was still clamped shut five minutes later as he marched down the sidewalk away from Farris Industries with a panting Tyler nearly jogging at his side to keep up.

  “Jesus, you sure moved from Number One Son to Pile of Horse Shit in those guys’ eyes. They really hate you, Brax, especially Tom Davenport. What’d you do to piss off Dad’s favorite employees?”

  Braxton shook his head savagely and snorted. “I breathed.”

  “Seriously,” Tyler muttered. “What’d you do?”

  “Seriously,” Brax hissed back. “Nothing. Ever since I took over, they’ve despised me on principle alone.” And maybe a little because I didn’t take their dislike so well, he didn’t add.

  Tyler frowned and scratched his head. “That’s doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Yeah, well…how would you like taking orders from a five-year-old?”

  “Huh?”

  “That’s how they still see me. That five-year-old brat who used to run amuck through Dad’s office. They can’t respect me and refuse to even try.”

  Tyler was quiet a second before he murmured, “Does Dad know how they’re treating you?”

  “No, and you will say nothing about this to him. He already has enough to deal with. Besides, I need to find a way on my own to gain their loyalty.”

  And nearly
screwing Lenna Davenport blind was not the way. Unfortunately.

  As if he knew Brax was thinking about her, Ty asked, “So what’s the deal with Davenport’s daughter?”

  Braxton flashed him a hard look. How had he known to ask about her? “Nothing. Why?”

  “You totally paused when he told you to say how pretty she was. She a dog or what?”

  “No.” He shook his head slightly. “No. She’s not a dog.” Not by a long shot.

  “A bitch then?”

  Braxton glared at him, wanting to hurt him for even suggesting that about her. “No,” he growled.

  “Is she—”

  “She’s amazing, alright. Sweet, light-hearted, great sense of humor, fun to talk to, and so freaking gorgeous it makes your mouth go dry just to look at her. And fucking Davenport acted like he wanted to take my head off after I had a single, innocent conversation with her.”

  Tyler blinked, confusion skirting his features until his eyes popped open wide. “Holy shit. You like her.”

  Groaning out his misery, Braxton yanked his hands through his hair. “You know what; how about you run the company. I’ll take the girl.”

  “Damn,” Tyler breathed unable to stop gaping. “You really like her.”

  Braxton didn’t answer. Spotting a restaurant straight ahead that served plenty of alcohol, he strode with purpose toward Renneys.

  His brother hurried after him. “So, are you this pissy because none of your employees like you or because you can’t have the girl you want without causing more conflict with Dad’s personnel?”

  “Neither,” Braxton immediately denied, then just as quickly confessed, “Both. I don’t know. Hell. My whole life pretty much sucks right now, okay?”

  Tyler stared at him before shrugging. “Okay.” He followed Braxton into the restaurant and thankfully kept his trap shut for the next few minutes.

  Since it was deep into the lunch-hour rush, the place was busy. After a five-minute wait, the greeter showed them to their table. Braxton slumped down and immediately began to drum his fingers on the ecru tablecloth, beyond ready to order a double of whatever liquor they had handy.

  “So, I’m guessing it’d totally piss you off if I actually let Davenport set me up with his daughter, huh?”