I almost feel bad for him. The attic is a hoarder’s dream, packed to the rafters with stuff Brady collected over the decades. It would take anyone at least two weeks to work their way through all those belongings.
But if he packs it all, then you won’t have to.
The deal is tempting. I never had the willpower to even try, so I might as well take advantage of Cal being here to free up some space and clear out the last bit of clutter left behind from the Kanes. Then, I can erase any reminders of the Kanes and make the house completely mine.
With the plan I have set in place, it might as well be. Even if Cal owns half of it, he will never sell with the price I have in mind.
I lift my chin. “Fine. But I don’t want you inside the house unless I’m there.”
“Why? So you can keep an eye on me?”
My eyes narrow. “Like I’d ever trust you around my stuff.”
“Probably for the best after that incident with your vibrator.” He flashes me a knowing smile.
My cheeks burn, the heat quickly spreading to the rest of my face.
You set yourself up for that one.
I slide out of the booth.
“Running away already? Things were just starting to get interesting.” His bright grin is full of promise.
“Bye.”
“Are you sure you want to go? I didn’t even get around to mentioning the time I found those h—”
I slap my hand over his mouth. Cal’s speech comes out muffled as he looks up at me with wide eyes.
I lean in and whisper, “Let’s get one thing clear right now. No matter what, we don’t speak about what happened the last summer you were here.” I’m not sure I would survive him being here if we do.
His eyes narrow.
I press harder against his mouth. “Do you understand?”
He nips at the soft skin of my palm, and I fight a full-on body shudder as I release him.
“Not speaking about it doesn’t change what we did.”
“I’m not trying to change it. I’m trying toforgetit.” I walk away with an extra sway to my hips, earning a soft groan from the man behind me.
Cal: 0. Alana: 1.
If it weren’t for me needing to return to Chicago for my cat, Merlin, and a few more pieces of clothing, I wouldn’t have bothered attending the Kane Company board meeting. My presence isn’t required unless there is a vote since I don’t have an active position within the company.
The only reason I’ve bothered sitting through the boring meetings in the first place is to fuck with my father. He has always hated me being on the board ever since my grandfather appointed me six years ago after I tore my ACL, so I’ve made it a point to sit through each miserable meeting solely to spite him.
To think people accuse me of not having a life’s purpose.
Every time I step into the Kane Company’s corporate office for a meeting, I’m hit with the same urge to run straight out the front door. It’s like my senses go haywire due to environmental overstimulation. Despite all the years dealing with sensory processing issues, I still struggle with not hyper-fixating on how my tie feels too tight and my suit too scratchy.
This right here is why I’m not cut out for corporate life. My brothers are the complete opposite, oozing confidence as they speak up throughout the board meeting. Both of them look like corporate clones with their dark, slicked-back hair, pristine pinstripe suits, and perfectly groomed stubble. It’s obvious they have always been suited for company politics and dreadful desk jobs while I attempt to beat the all-time high score on Candy Crush underneath the table.
The Head of Acquisitions and Sales for a division of our streaming service, DreamStream, rises from his chair and stands at the front of the room. He fumbles through his first few slides, which catches my attention. I might not be business savvy like my brothers, but I’m a people person who notices everything. There is a slight sheen to his skin that only seems to get worse the longer my father stares at him with piercing dark eyes and a constant scowl.
The presenter uses his laser pointer to highlight a graph. “Monthly subscriptions for our DreamStream platform have decreased by twelve percent over the last quarter.”
“Twelve percent? On top of the previous quarter’s six percent loss?” I speak out for possibly the first time this year.