This is bullshit.
There’s no need for us to be in San Francisco for two weeks, sharing a place. It’s like he’s purposefully trying to make my life a living hell. But that’s how it’s always been—Huxley gets what he wants.
Starting this business was his idea. I jumped on board because, frankly, I didn’t have anything better to do with my life, but when responsibilities started to roll out, it was as if Breaker and Huxley just came up with jobs they wanted and gave me the leftovers. Does it look like I want to be the face of the company? The guy who talks to the media and waves his hand about and cuts ribbons?
Fuck no.
There’s no purpose behind it.
Nothing.
I don’t feel fulfilled when I go to work.
And now, this . . . I’m a fucking glorified babysitter.
I reach my office, but when I go to shut my door, I’m quickly stopped by my brothers, who apparently have been hot on my heels during my retreat.
I don’t bother arguing with them to leave me alone, because there’s no point, they won’t give me privacy. I take a seat on my couch and spread out, ready for the lecture.
Breaker shuts the door and then joins Huxley, who’s standing in front of me, hands in his pockets.
“What the actual fuck was that about?” he asks.
“Me?” I point to myself. “You don’t think you could’ve told me that in private? You know, so we could discuss it without the girls being there? Instead, you just gave me a sentencing and went on with your life.”
“Sentencing?” Huxley asks. “I fail to see how spending two weeks in a penthouse in San Francisco, one of your favorite cities, is a sentencing. I assumed you’d appreciate the break from LA.”
“Not when I have to spend it babysitting someone,” I say.
“It’s not babysitting,” Breaker says. “You’d be helping Kelsey and taking on one of our most prestigious renovation projects. This is fucking huge, man.”
“Not to mention, we’re working with a new set of contractors in San Francisco because that’s who was available. They know how much we’re worth and they know the importance of the project. We don’t need them taking advantage of Kelsey, who isn’t experienced in this at all.”
“You don’t think she can stand up for herself?” I ask. “Because I have it on very good authority that she knows how to put a man in his place.”
She’s only done it half a dozen times with me.
“It’s not that she can’t handle herself,” Huxley says. “Because if she’s anything like her sister, then I know there’s a solid fighting spirit in her. But this is about headlining the process as an owner, making sure things are done the way we want them, and assisting Kelsey with her initiatives. We have one shot at impressing the historic societies in a city we love. If we can make good on this building, think of all the other buildings we could help with.”
“If it’s that important, then you fucking do it.”
Huxley’s jaw tightens even more. “You know I can’t. I have commitments with Lottie, and even though this company means everything to me, she means more. You’re the one who represents Cane Enterprises, you’re the one who works directly with Kelsey, and unless you can give me a specific—and I mean very specific—reason why you can’t go up there tonight, then you’re leaving in four hours.”
I look away because fuck . . . I’m frustrated.
Because I don’t have a good reason other than Kelsey hurt my man feelings and I haven’t been able to get over it.
Because I don’t want to be around her.
Because . . . shit, because I think I like her, and I don’t know how to navigate those feelings, feelings I’ve been suppressing for quite some time. And because she wants absolutely nothing to do with me, it makes navigating those feelings that much more difficult. She thinks of me as a player, a man who seeks his own pleasure, nothing more.
Spending two weeks with her in the penthouse is going to be absolute torture.
I’ll be surrounded by her heady scent, subjected to her nighttime wear, forced to share meals . . . It’ll be like having a live-in girlfriend without the girlfriend part.
But I have no excuse.
No out.
So, might as well stop fighting it and go fucking pack.
“Well, then, I guess I’m leaving in four hours.” In silence, with their eyes watching my every move, I shoot up from the couch and make sure I have everything I need before walking past my brothers and out of my office, straight to the elevator where . . . of course, Lottie and Kelsey are talking.