by Nella Tyler
“Woah, you’re moving?” I nodded, and Vince looked troubled. “I thought the bereaved were supposed to take it easy, no major changes.”
“That ship has sailed and sunk, my friend.” Then I snorted. “Bereaved, where did you hear that from? You sound like a grief counselor.”
“Oh, Mamaw and Pap were talking about you the other day. Wanted to know how you were doing. Both of them were in a flutter about you taking on so much responsibility so soon.”
Vince’s grandparents were as close to me as my own were, and my heart softened thinking of the two of them, bespectacled as their grandson, fretting over me.
“Do me a favor and tell them I’m doing well. I don’t want them worrying,” I said. From across the alley came a sound of pins being knocked down and then a cheer from the people. “I think the house search is going to go well, though.” I smirked a little. “I’ve got this great realtor named Cammie Book to help me out.”
“Damn, that’s a sexy name,” Vince said. “Geez, she sounds like a minxy librarian or a foxy nurse.” He let out a breath, and I shook my head. Vince, you’re a gem. “But as you know, I’m woefully unattached, so what the hell do I know?”
“Hey man, you run your own business,” I said, sensing Vince needed a boost. “You know how many people would kill for that?”
“Livin’ the dream,” Vince said. “I mean, I can play whatever music I like at any hour of the day and drink at work, so, you know, perks.”
Talking about Cammie got my blood lighting up again. I didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or Vince, but I found myself remembering the way her lips curved into a gentle smile, the way her curls slipped over her shoulder when she glanced back at me and the surprised look in her eyes when I said it was Cammie or no dice.
“She’s gorgeous, huh?” Vince interrupted me with a chuckle. “You should see your face.”
Elbowing him, I shrugged, then I sighed, recalling what had happened later during the day when I met Cammie. Buck had caused a fuss when he couldn’t find me, then a reel of film had gone missing, and the director had gone on a rampage. It had been a nightmare.
“Oh, now you’re thinking about work again,” He sounded pained on my behalf. “Damn, that’s not such a nice face. That’s the face of getting cold fries and a half-cooked burger.”
“I just don’t know how he kept it all together, Vin. I wish I had paid better attention or something, but I don’t want my dad’s business to fail because his son was always too busy chasing after the next big thing instead of learning how to run the company. I always thought there’d be time, you know, later.” I rubbed my face, trying to smooth out the worn expression. Vince was one of the few people I fully relaxed around and didn’t try to hide what I was feeling. It was a relief in a lot of ways, but I didn’t want to dump all of my problems on him.
“I get that. And you know what I think – I think those experiences, all that travel, and meeting people around the world makes you that much more qualified.” I gave Vince a dubious look, and he held up his hands. “No, hear me out.
“Your dad was big on travel, right? That’s why he never said, ‘Kris, come here and be my shadow.’ He wanted you out in the world and learning as much as you could, you know? He wanted you to learn about yourself. And I knew Lukas Boldin. He’d be the first to tell you that you’re more than qualified to run the business and the rest is just details.”
“Thanks, Vin, I needed that.” I smiled at and took a swing of my beer.
“You just gotta stick it out,” Vince said confidently. “All of this is just growing pains. Besides, your dad didn’t want anyone but a Boldin running his business. I mean, it’s in the goddamn name.”
Holding up my fist, we fist bumped, then clinked beers again.
“What would I do without you, Vince?” I asked.
“I don’t even wanna think about it, bro,” Vince said solemnly. And this time I couldn’t help it, I burst out laughing, while he asked, “What? What? Hey man, come on, I was being serious.”
Later that night, I was tossing laundry into my hamper and walking around in nothing but a pair of cotton pajama bottoms. Beer and melted cheese were sitting in my gut, and I definitely was pretty queasy. But it had nothing on the shredding anxiety and nausea I had about work on Monday.
Taking a deep breath, I thought back to what Vince had said. These were growing pains. He was right. For in his own weird way, Vince the bowling alley owner could sometimes be a kind of an urban sage. It’s why I always found myself going to him to talk. He somehow found the right way to put things, in a blunt, simple fashion, which made my intricate banter seem overdone and priggish.
Beyond the growing pains, I was in the midst of a learning curve. As long as I gave myself time, dug my heels and hands in, hanging on for dear life, I’d make it through. I’d figure all of this out. I wouldn’t let my Dad down.
But in the meantime, there were still several pressing issues that had to be addressed – the most glaring of which was the new documentary I’d so rashly proposed at the last staff meeting.
All week I’d been racking my brains for an idea, and so far I’d come up with nothing. I’d stayed up well into the night several nights, googling everything from dog breeding to 3D printing to charities run by celebrities. Everything seemed contrite. Done. Boring.
I could practically see the sneers and dismissal from the team already.
Pacing around, I gripped my hair, ordering my brain to come up with an idea. This was in my blood. I was Lukas Boldin’s son. The man had been a single father, a documentarian, and the CEO of a now multi-million dollar company. His offspring could not be mediocre.
But as I flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, my brain a vortex of meaningless phrases, I wondered if maybe I’d put too much stock in my name.
Maybe everyone had, including Dad.
Maybe I just don’t have what it takes after all.
Chapter 8
Cammie
Sitting on Anna’s back porch, reclining in her padded rocker, I was content with the world. The sun was shining, Anna had just bought out a bottle of chardonnay and the smell of magnolia was on the light breeze. Part of me wanted to stay on this porch forever.
Anna had been telling me all about her promotion at Coastal Living Magazine, where she currently worked an assistant to the art director. But now she’d been given extra responsibilities since the social media director had quit, boosting her importance at the job.
“One day, they won’t remember a time where I didn’t work there,” Anna said, smiling to herself. “And that day is comin’ soon.”
I laughed as Anna continued on. I kept waiting for her to ask me about work, but she hadn’t brought up Birmingham Realty so far. Or at all in the last week. Initially, she had been excited for me, but now she was acting a bit strange about it.
During a lull in the conversation, I found myself wondering if I should mention how a client had come in, met me and then insisted I be his realtor. A handsome, witty man with big shoulders, blue eyes and a crooked smile that I couldn’t help thinking about from time to time.
“Oh!” Anna interrupted my thoughts, leaning forward, and staring at me. I pulled back a little, raising my eyebrows. “I know that smile – that is a patented ‘I met a cute guy’ smile. Dish.”
Twirling my wine around my glass, I shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Oh, come on! You haven’t dated in forever. Where’d you meet him? What’s his name? What’s he look like? What’s he do for work?” Anna gushed.
“I met him at Birmingham Realty, actually. He’s my first client,” I said. “He insisted on having me as his realtor, Anna. You should have seen it.”
Gaping at me, my friend sat back and stared. “Wait, you already have a client, Cams?”
Biting my tongue as my nostrils flared, I jerked my head in a nod. “Yes, Kris Boldin. He’s charming, and I kept him company, so he insisted I be his realtor.”
Anna’s ears se
em to prick forward. “Wait, wait, wait! First, you need to go back and tell me the whole story. Start to finish.”
Face warming, I told Anna all about how I’d seen him outside, how I’d had Babs get him water, how we’d talked and how he then threatened to walk out on Carter Llyod if he didn’t get his way. When I was done, Anna shook her head, laughed and then lightly applauded me.
“Camilla Book. You crafty thing. I’m glad you snatched that job away from Carter Llyod; he’s a pig.” Anna said rather vehemently. That’s when I recalled the Dewitts had an old feud with the Lloyds. “This is fascinating. He sounds fascinating. I noticed you didn’t tell me what he looks like, though. Must be handsome.”
I waved her away as Anna leaned in again. “Maybe. He’s pretty tall and built, probably works out. Has nice blue eyes, brown hair, and a sexy voice.” I rubbed my lip as I said that last part, thinking back on it. Then I winced, wishing I hadn’t said that part. Anna would be ruthless about this guy now.
As the thought crossed my mind, she whipped her phone out and her fingers flew across it. “Kris Boldin. Damn!” she exclaimed and held up her phone to me. “Is this him?” A picture of Kris was on her screen. He was wearing a dove-gray suit, his arm around an older man with the same blue eyes as they both laughed. Reluctantly, I nodded. “Girl, he’s got a jaw worthy of a Hemsworth brother. Oh, it says he works over in Five Points South. We should check it out!”
“It’s the weekend, Anna. I’m sure it’s closed.” I pointed out. “Besides we’ve been drinking.”
“You’ve been drinking, darling. I haven’t had so much as a sip I’ve been yakking so much.” She jumped to her feet. “Let’s go.” And then she rushed into the house.
“Anna!” I spluttered, getting up and following her. “What? No. Absolutely not.”
“Yes, before the sun sets, come on, come on. It’s not that far. I have to see this building.” She paused, then looked at me curiously. “You do know he’s single, right?”
“What?” I asked, staggered. How did she know that? “Anna, are you sure?”
“Yes! Trust me, I know these things. I remember someone mentioning how’s one of Birmingham’s most eligible bachelors. He’s a young, delicious CEO. Girl, come on.” She darted out the front door and once again I found myself following her. “Oh, I’m so excited.”
As she locked up the house, I tried in vain to dissuade her again. “Anna, I’m not even wearing shoes.”
“We’re not getting out of the car, Cam! We’re just taking a peek at the building.” Anna steered me to her sporty white crossover. “It’s an adventure.”
Feeling like both a creep for being curious and a bad friend for not wanting to go, I climbed in and slouched into the seat. I silently prayed that maybe the building would be gated so we couldn’t see it. But of course, when we got there, no such luck.
Pulling up, we could clearly see the building, huge, soaring, and made of glass. It towered over the other buildings in the area, commanding the eye. Bold Pictures was sculpted out of pieces of tasteful metalwork above the double-doors and trees were planted on either side.
“Bold, Boldin, ha!” Anna murmured under her breath. “That’s cute.”
Now I was feeling that inadequacy again. Geez, this was where Kris worked? Where he was CEO? I imagined a documentary production house would be more modest.
This was nicer than most of the buildings in downtown Birmingham. While Anna ogled it, I pulled out my phone and searched for Bold Picture films. A long list popped up, listing awards, celebrities, and again I saw the picture of that same gray-haired man with blue eyes that had been in the other picture with Kris.
I noticed there were several articles about him, but I passed over those to see if I knew any of the documentaries made here. Then my eyes went wide. Holy shit! Not only did I knew most of these, but I'd also seen quite a few of them. Looking back up, I shivered.
I could not fuck up this deal.
“What?” Anna looked at me, and I realized I’d said that out loud.
“Nothing,” I said, shoving my phone away.
Her eyes went soft. “You won’t, Cammie. I think that’s probably why he was so adamant about having you. Hey, let’s get food from TakeOut Bham, my treat, okay?”
I nodded, unable to reply and my fingers twisting together.
Anna, who was usually not the most observant, seemed to pick up on my distress and tried to distract me with a funny work story about a guy who’d wanted to walk out the magazine before giving an interview. But then Anna had realized she knew his brother, who had been in a frat with her brother, and had persuaded him to stay.
“I was like, ‘Oh, Levi, you’re Lambda Chi, right? They were always such gentlemen when I was at Alabama, so I’m not surprised. Thank goodness for that school, Cam. Roll Tide!”
“Roll Tide,” I echoed absently. Sometimes I felt a twinge of jealousy when it came to Anna. She’d grown up in Birmingham, her family wealthy and well-connected, then she’d gone to UAB, and now she was working her dream job at Coastal Living.
I hated to be so petty, but I wanted that – to be a part of the fabric of this city the way Anna was. Everywhere we went, people knew her and were excited to see her.
But the one thing I couldn’t begrudge Anna was how she handled it. Most girls would be odiously smug, I think, whereas Anna seemed to be endlessly grateful. She seemed hyper-aware of her good fortune and was always intent on sharing it as much as she could.
That was how I’d met Anna, four years ago, when I’d moved to Birmingham. I’d joined a group of volunteers who worked at the Botanical Gardens, and Anna had been our lead. She’d swooped in to take me under her wing, introduce me to people, ask about me and then took me out to lunch. In no time at all, we were best friends.
Driving back to her house now, munching on the fried dumplings and getting our fingers sticky, we both laughed as we recounted stories from back in the days when she was still in school, and I was working crazy hours. So much so that I’d almost forgotten about Kris.
As we pulled up to her house and we got out, Anna became preoccupied. On the porch she suddenly turned to me, frowning. “I’m not trying to stress you out, but you need to do a good job for this Kris guy, okay? I can’t stop thinking about that building.
“At first I thought it was a bad idea, but now I think it was a good thing we went. Now you know how important this is.” Her doe-brown eyes were unusually serious. “He could be your ticket, Cammie, your big shot. Sell like hell on wheels – find the best house in Birmingham, because if you do, you’ll be up that ladder in no time.”
Swallowing, I nodded and smiled at her. I didn’t want to tell her how I honestly wished that we didn’t go. For her line of work, knowing everything about her clients was crucial to selling magazines. For me, it just felt intrusive.
Later that night, I got home and immediately got ready for bed. My body and brain felt soggy as I curled up. But I couldn’t sleep. I stared at the wall, Anna’s words buzzing through my head.
Finally, I got up, flicked on a light and found my laptop. Fingers flying, I logged into the Birmingham Realty portal and started digging through houses, flagging anything that might work for Kris. He hadn’t given me so much as an inkling as to what he wanted, but his phone call was looming. I had to have something to tell him.
Although as I searched, I also realized I had no idea what his price range was. This was making it a lot harder to find a house. On the other hand, maybe that meant anything was up for grabs. Ugh, I really didn’t want to seem completely unprepared.
And as much as I wanted to tell myself it was for my career or to shut up Carter Llyod (and maybe Anna), deep down I knew it was because I cared about Kris Boldin. I honestly wanted him to have a nice home where he could live and maybe have a family. A guy like him deserved that.
Chapter 9
Kris
As was becoming our routine, Max and I were shut up in my father’s office, asking ourselves what Lukas
Boldin would do.
While Max was holding it together, unruffled by the drama roiling through Bold Pictures, it was eating me away. I no longer slept well, I barely ate, and I lived at the office. Last night I’d slept here. Rubbing my hand along my jaw, I realized that meant I hadn’t shaved this morning and was probably looking a bit like a mountain man.
While the remastering was coming along for two of the films, no one could decide on the other four. Then, of course, some people wanted to do eight. But the budget wouldn’t allow it.
Not if we were going to produce a new documentary for release next year.
And cue more animosity.
Max was staring at his computer with a ferocious frown, arms crossed, and I almost didn’t want to disturb him. But he sensed my gazed, looked up and sighed. “What now?”
“Lucy just sent me an email saying she was given a budget request for remastering Horizon Fall. I didn’t okay that, you didn’t okay that, and when I told her as much, she was rather displeased. Said she thinks people are trying to go around my back. Run the company for me.”
His face impassive, Max set aside his computer and leaned forward. I could tell he was thinking hard. “Did she tell you who?”
I nodded and said, “Max, I honestly don’t know what my father would want me to do at this point. A documentary sounds great – after all, I think that’s what we’re known for here at Bold – but remastering extra films and buying us some extra time during all this might be the safer move.”
“Lukas wasn’t big on playing it safe,” Max said dryly, gazing out the window, his lips twisting in a grin. I wondered which of my father’s crazy adventures were playing in his head.
“I know that,” I groaned. “And I’m a lot like him – I like taking chances, risks – especially on people. But this isn’t a little indie film company anymore. It’s a staple of the Birmingham business community. Its bread and butter for folks – how they save for retirement, pay for their homes, put their kids through college.” I took a deep breath, then said, “I-It’s overwhelming.”
