Chapter Sixty-Six
Sierra
The next few weeks are hectic. One of our suppliers says they’re having issues procuring enough small motors to meet the demand, and it’s putting some pressure on our production schedule.
So instead of going home at a reasonable hour and getting plenty of sleep, too often I find myself driving back at midnight. It’s made worse because I’m feeling nauseated but still have weird food cravings that I’m too tired and sleepy to get up and do anything about at three a.m. Every romance novel I’ve ever read said that it’s the hero’s duty to bring me pistachio ice cream, canned tuna and steamed asparagus at such times.
But life isn’t a romance novel, and I don’t have a hero to pamper me.
Today is another day I’m stuck working late. Hopefully, this will be the last time for a while. Ellie stays with me, saying she has some things to review. We commandeer a conference room so we can spread out.
My head hurts from going over so many financial projections, new launch timelines and bids from potential new vendors. To give myself a break, I pull up a browser and screw around on the Internet for a few minutes. I stop when I spot a local news headline about the wedding of Emmett Lasker—the one brother of Griffin’s that I didn’t meet.
I should just scroll past, but I click on it anyway. I tell myself I’m just curious about how people this rich and famous get married.
The article says that it was a small ceremony with family only. However, the brothers’ famous father Ted Lasker did not attend. I scan for more, finally stopping when I realize I’m looking for some mention of Griffin.
“It’s so unfair,” I say, suddenly angry.
“What is?” Ellie says, looking up from the specs on a vibrator.
“The fact that Griffin’s brother got married. Everyone knows that his brothers are Ted Lasker’s children. And you know what? None of them are suffering because of it. And I’m reading this article for some mention of him like, like…” It’s hard to think of a good comparison. “Like some loser stalker who doesn’t have the guts to stalk in person!”
“He sucks. And not in a sexual way,” Ellie says loyally.
“I even tried to give him an opportunity to realize that he overreacted at the social, but he totally blew it! Throw away anything else of his I find in the house, indeed! If I weren’t pregnant and busy with work, I’d go over to his house and kick his butt!”
“And I’d hold him for you so you could kick with less effort. And more action-flick coolness.”
“You know what? If he’s going to blame me for embarrassing him, I’ll give him something to be embarrassed about!”
“Ooh, now you’re talking!” Ellie says, her eyes bright. “What’s the plan?”
“I’m sending his brother the latest products from our Midnight God line. They’ll make the perfect wedding present.”
“Oooh! Do it, do it!”
“I’m going to. That uptight jerk.” A sudden craving for pistachio ice cream only fuels my rage. “Just people knowing that there are sex toys created in his honor brings shame upon him, huh? Well, just imagine his brother getting them. Griffin will probably have a stroke.” And with that, I get up and go to the Silicone Dream storage room to start rummaging through the boxes.