The Billionaire's Command
Page 39
That was really not what I was expecting her to say. I glanced over my shoulder at Turner, who had come to a stop behind me. His face was doing something complicated, like he wasn’t sure how to react. I looked back at Yolanda and tried to gather my thoughts. “Don’t feel obligated, Yo,” I said. “They can buy him a secret penthouse with like three hours of notice, okay? It’s not like he doesn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“I know,” she said. “But all the same. We bought this nice sleeper sofa and nobody’s ever used it.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Will said, “but I can’t allow you to inconvenience yourself on my behalf. If Alex had told me the details of his plan when we got in the car, I never would have agreed to come with him.” He looked at me and smiled. “Although I have to say, it was worth it just to hear you yell at him. Nobody ever talks to Alex like that. I think it’s good for him.”
“I sort of have a bad temper,” I said, a little embarrassed, but not too embarrassed, because Turner had definitely deserved it.
Behind me, Turner muttered something that was probably rude. I ignored him.
I didn’t know Will, or really anything about him other than that he was Turner’s brother and a recovering alcoholic, but Yolanda obviously liked him, and I was willing to trust her judgment. I liked his smile. My gut told me he was a good guy, and I’d learned over the years to pay attention to my first impressions of people, because I was usually right. “Yolanda, if it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me,” I said.
Will made a few more token protests, but Yolanda had made up her mind and she wasn’t having any of it. She started asking him if he had a toothbrush and what would he like to eat for dinner, and I looked back at Turner and said, “Guess you get your way after all.”
“Thank you,” he said. He squeezed my shoulder and then, after a moment’s hesitation, bent to kiss my cheek.
“Come by tomorrow for dinner,” I said impulsively. “Around 7. You can check up on him.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That would be—nice. Thank you. I’ll do that.”
Turner, being polite? Wonders would never cease.
Everything happened very quickly after that. It was like Turner didn’t want to give us time to change our minds. He reminded Will not to cause any trouble, told him he would be back tomorrow for dinner, and bailed.
The front door closed behind him, and the three of us looked at each other in silence.
“Well,” Yolanda said after a moment, “ordinarily I’d say we should get drunk and share all of our deepest secrets, but that might not be appropriate under the circumstances.”
I shot her the evil eye, totally appalled that she was making jokes about booze, but Will just laughed.
“It would certainly have the happy side effect of making Alex very, very unhappy,” he said.
“You don’t like him much, huh?” Yolanda asked. “I can see why. He seems a bit uptight.”
Will shook his head. “It’s not that. Alex is a good egg, and he’s not usually quite so wound up. He’s just worried about this buyout. But I’m the kid brother, so it’s sort of my duty in life to torment him.”
I grinned. Him and every other younger sibling in the history of the world.
Just then I heard a rustling noise from under the couch, and Teddy waddled out, twisting his head this way and that to make sure the scary yelling was over.
“Holy shit,” Will said, “you have a parrot?”
“Here we go,” Yolanda said, laughing.
Will, it turned out, was a genuinely decent person. Yolanda gave him a quick tour of the apartment while I soothed Teddy’s ruffled feathers—both literally and figuratively—and then he sat and played fetch with Teddy for way longer than I would have tolerated. When it was time for dinner, he insisted on cooking for us, and somehow whipped up an elaborate meal out of the condiments and sad vegetables in our refrigerator. He even set the table and found a few stubby candles buried in a drawer somewhere. Yolanda and I usually ate hunched over our laptops, but we could pretend to be civilized for the evening.
“This is incredible,” Yolanda said, after taking her first bite, and I nodded my agreement, my mouth full of the enormous forkful I had just shoveled in.
“Oh, it’s nothing fancy,” he said, but I could tell he was pleased.
I swallowed and said, “How did you learn how to cook like this?”
“I’m a chef,” he said. “It’s sort of an occupational hazard.”
“Huh,” I said. “I’m surprised you aren’t involved with the family business.”
He shrugged. “My parents don’t care. They always told me I could be a garbageman as long as I was happy. Alex is only taking over the company because he wants to. I hate finance and love food, so my path seemed obvious.”
“Did you go to culinary school?” Yolanda asked.
He shook his head. “I started working as a dishwasher when I was still in high school, and worked my way up. I love it, but it’s hard to be an alcoholic in the restaurant industry. Everyone goes out drinking after the restaurant closes for the night, and it’s easy to give in to temptation.”
I nodded. It was the same way at the club: most of the dancers hung out at the bar after closing and drank until dawn. I’d turned them down so many times that they had stopped asking me, but if I liked alcohol more than I did… Well, I could see how it would be hard to say no.
“I have an uncle who’s an alcoholic,” Yolanda said, and I looked at her in surprise. I hadn’t known that. “He’s been sober for twenty years now. I could get you in touch with him, if you’d like some moral support.”
“I would really appreciate it,” he said, and smiled at her.
She smiled back, and I watched them for a moment as they sat there and beamed at each other across the dining table, and decided I was going to do everything in my power to encourage this fascinating development. Yolanda could use a little romance in her life.
“Wait a second,” Yolanda said. “Turner. And you said finance—the Turner Group?”
Will grimaced. “I’m afraid so.”
Yolanda whistled low and said, “Sash, hold on to this guy.”
“What, why?” I asked. “He’s kind of a jerk.”
“I know,” she said. “But all the same. We bought this nice sleeper sofa and nobody’s ever used it.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Will said, “but I can’t allow you to inconvenience yourself on my behalf. If Alex had told me the details of his plan when we got in the car, I never would have agreed to come with him.” He looked at me and smiled. “Although I have to say, it was worth it just to hear you yell at him. Nobody ever talks to Alex like that. I think it’s good for him.”
“I sort of have a bad temper,” I said, a little embarrassed, but not too embarrassed, because Turner had definitely deserved it.
Behind me, Turner muttered something that was probably rude. I ignored him.
I didn’t know Will, or really anything about him other than that he was Turner’s brother and a recovering alcoholic, but Yolanda obviously liked him, and I was willing to trust her judgment. I liked his smile. My gut told me he was a good guy, and I’d learned over the years to pay attention to my first impressions of people, because I was usually right. “Yolanda, if it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me,” I said.
Will made a few more token protests, but Yolanda had made up her mind and she wasn’t having any of it. She started asking him if he had a toothbrush and what would he like to eat for dinner, and I looked back at Turner and said, “Guess you get your way after all.”
“Thank you,” he said. He squeezed my shoulder and then, after a moment’s hesitation, bent to kiss my cheek.
“Come by tomorrow for dinner,” I said impulsively. “Around 7. You can check up on him.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That would be—nice. Thank you. I’ll do that.”
Turner, being polite? Wonders would never cease.
Everything happened very quickly after that. It was like Turner didn’t want to give us time to change our minds. He reminded Will not to cause any trouble, told him he would be back tomorrow for dinner, and bailed.
The front door closed behind him, and the three of us looked at each other in silence.
“Well,” Yolanda said after a moment, “ordinarily I’d say we should get drunk and share all of our deepest secrets, but that might not be appropriate under the circumstances.”
I shot her the evil eye, totally appalled that she was making jokes about booze, but Will just laughed.
“It would certainly have the happy side effect of making Alex very, very unhappy,” he said.
“You don’t like him much, huh?” Yolanda asked. “I can see why. He seems a bit uptight.”
Will shook his head. “It’s not that. Alex is a good egg, and he’s not usually quite so wound up. He’s just worried about this buyout. But I’m the kid brother, so it’s sort of my duty in life to torment him.”
I grinned. Him and every other younger sibling in the history of the world.
Just then I heard a rustling noise from under the couch, and Teddy waddled out, twisting his head this way and that to make sure the scary yelling was over.
“Holy shit,” Will said, “you have a parrot?”
“Here we go,” Yolanda said, laughing.
Will, it turned out, was a genuinely decent person. Yolanda gave him a quick tour of the apartment while I soothed Teddy’s ruffled feathers—both literally and figuratively—and then he sat and played fetch with Teddy for way longer than I would have tolerated. When it was time for dinner, he insisted on cooking for us, and somehow whipped up an elaborate meal out of the condiments and sad vegetables in our refrigerator. He even set the table and found a few stubby candles buried in a drawer somewhere. Yolanda and I usually ate hunched over our laptops, but we could pretend to be civilized for the evening.
“This is incredible,” Yolanda said, after taking her first bite, and I nodded my agreement, my mouth full of the enormous forkful I had just shoveled in.
“Oh, it’s nothing fancy,” he said, but I could tell he was pleased.
I swallowed and said, “How did you learn how to cook like this?”
“I’m a chef,” he said. “It’s sort of an occupational hazard.”
“Huh,” I said. “I’m surprised you aren’t involved with the family business.”
He shrugged. “My parents don’t care. They always told me I could be a garbageman as long as I was happy. Alex is only taking over the company because he wants to. I hate finance and love food, so my path seemed obvious.”
“Did you go to culinary school?” Yolanda asked.
He shook his head. “I started working as a dishwasher when I was still in high school, and worked my way up. I love it, but it’s hard to be an alcoholic in the restaurant industry. Everyone goes out drinking after the restaurant closes for the night, and it’s easy to give in to temptation.”
I nodded. It was the same way at the club: most of the dancers hung out at the bar after closing and drank until dawn. I’d turned them down so many times that they had stopped asking me, but if I liked alcohol more than I did… Well, I could see how it would be hard to say no.
“I have an uncle who’s an alcoholic,” Yolanda said, and I looked at her in surprise. I hadn’t known that. “He’s been sober for twenty years now. I could get you in touch with him, if you’d like some moral support.”
“I would really appreciate it,” he said, and smiled at her.
She smiled back, and I watched them for a moment as they sat there and beamed at each other across the dining table, and decided I was going to do everything in my power to encourage this fascinating development. Yolanda could use a little romance in her life.
“Wait a second,” Yolanda said. “Turner. And you said finance—the Turner Group?”
Will grimaced. “I’m afraid so.”
Yolanda whistled low and said, “Sash, hold on to this guy.”
“What, why?” I asked. “He’s kind of a jerk.”
