She had gotten me the job’s at Colby’s, yes. Was I grateful? Yes. Did she have to remind me that she had gotten me the job every second? No. Come to think of it, if the request for her to find me a job hadn’t come from Richard, then I doubted she would have helped me. My gratitude should go to him.
My mother smiled at her stepdaughter. “We’re just so proud of you. You’ve taken your company that you just started a little over a year ago, and you’ve expanded it to where it’s overflowing with opportunities. It’s just … awe-inspiring.”
This was the part where I wanted to gag, possibly throw up all my mashed potatoes and meatballs onto the kitchen table, and feed it to Sandy.
I doubted that would do any good because my mother would just have me clean it up, and I didn’t want to do that. There was no reason to add another point on why she was so embarrassed of me.
“This family was meant to be. Look at that, Charlie. As soon as we moved in, you needed a new job, and lo and behold, your sister owns her own recruitment agency.” My mother clasped her hands together like this was a good thing.
If I only didn’t need this job, need it for my end game—my exhibit.
“I hear you can get and eat all the candy that you want. Must be one of the greatest perks at the job,” Mother added.
Richard lifted his head from his plate. “You’re working for Colby’s?” He eyed Sandy from his spot. “I thought you didn’t do business with that company anymore.”
My stepfather didn’t pay attention to little details that involved me because if he did, he’d have known I had been hired last week.
Sandy waved a hand and exaggeratedly rolled her eyes. “Dad, if they’re paying, I’m not about to deny their money. It’s a win for them and a win for me.”
“I don’t know. It’s not a company I want you dealing with. Especially since I heard it’s going under.”
I guessed what the company had been trying to keep a secret wasn’t so top secret anymore.
I decided to tune out the family for the rest of dinner. I tried to think of when I could get back to finishing my latest project—an abstract oil painting. I’d stored my painting supplies and set up my own little studio in the pool house. That way, it wasn’t in the house, and no one could bother me when I was in the deep zone of creating.
Soon enough, construction would be complete, and I could permanently move into the pool house. I’d had plans to move out, be on my own, until we moved here. But now, with this exhibit, I couldn’t afford a place of my own, not when I’d had to pay a substantial amount of rent to lease the spot for my show.
When dinner was over and everyone headed to the living room, I helped Elsa clean up. My mother had told me I didn’t have to do so, but I did. Sandy merely scowled without saying a word as though it were beneath her that she shouldn’t and couldn’t help.
“Miss Charlie, you’re fine. You can go in and spend time with Richard and your mother.” Elsa took the plate from my hand, and I frowned. “Ms. Sandy doesn’t come home often, only since Granny came back from the nursing home.”
I sighed. I knew she was right, but I didn’t want to socialize. I wanted to drown in paint and canvas and oils, not interact with my new blended family.
But I did the right thing and trekked toward the living room. Richard sat next to my mother on the worn brown leather couch with his drink of choice—scotch. Sandy was in the opposite lounge chair with her dry martini. Granny sat next to Sandy in her wheelchair.
My drink of choice was none of the above because liquor made me tipsy, and it made me say things that I couldn’t take back, so I wasn’t about to get drunk, not in front of my new family. Liquor made people honest, me especially.
Just as I sat down, Sandy stood, ready to go, like always whenever I was around. She put up a show just in front of the family—but not for me.
“Charlie, why don’t you follow me to the door and lead me out? I’m not sure where my jacket is.”
I fisted my hands at my sides and gritted my teeth in a tight smile that screamed, I don’t like you, but no one is able to tell because I’m smiling. She knew exactly where her jacket was. I wouldn’t hate her so much if she didn’t have this undying need to make my life uncomfortable.
Richard and my mother eyed me from their seats, probably wondering if I’d cause a scene for a simple request.
Nope. Not playing this game, Sandy. Not looking like the bad guy. Not today.
I followed Sandy out of the living room, down the hall, and to the foyer where she opened the closet and plucked out her jacket.
“Now, since you’ve found your jacket, I guess you don’t need me anymore.” I smiled. “Unless you want me to help you put it on.” And wrap it around your neck in a double knot.
She slipped on her coat and fixed her sleeves, never bothering to look up. “It took me a lot to get you a job at Colby’s.”
“I know, and I can’t thank you enough,” I snapped.
She reminded me every time she saw me, like a broken record. Her look told me that, in appreciation, I owed her my firstborn child.
“I’ve got a little bird on the inside, and it looks like you’re not making a good impression thus far.” Her laugh was cynical, high-pitched, and annoying, like a witch—the Wicked Witch of the West.
Who the hell did she know? How far could her claws reach?
“So, do me a favor and don’t embarrass me and get fired, okay?” She adjusted the strap of her designer purse over her arm, pulling it further up her shoulder. Only then did she meet my eyes.
She gave me a once-over—from the top of my baby hairs on my head to the toes of my fuzzy socks. With one last sour look, Sandy fixed her collar and was out the door without saying good-bye.
All of my muscles tightened.
I hated her more than I hated Brussels sprouts, and damn, I hated Brussels sprouts really bad.
I pushed back my shoulders and lifted up my chin. Results set deep in my gut, I would excel at this job and do my very best to help Connor with the rebranding initiatives, so whoever Sandy knew in the inside could tell her that I’d had a hand in helping save the company. Take that!
Chapter 9
Connor
We were meeting for our first brainstorming session.
I was excited to get this started because we didn’t have that much time left to get this done before I had to leave and go back to New York.
The stirring from the door had me adjusting the Chinese food cartons on the long boardroom table. Charlie’s hair was in a bun on the top of her head, messy but in a sexy way that made it seem like she had gone to the salon to get it done.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” She brought in her laptop and a big sketchpad, which dropped on the long mahogany table that cut the boardroom. Then, she frowned.
And I laughed because her face had just transformed to one of a five-year-old. “What’s the matter?”
“I just ate.”
“Oh.” I realized what had upset her, and then I mentally slapped myself because I should have told her earlier that I would be providing dinner.
We were working late. The least I could do is pay for her dinner.