Page 8 of Surprisingly Us

“You don’t have to do this, Rhys. When I’m president I’ll still support Wesley and Abigail’s causes. Your mother was a fan of the visual arts. She loved the ballet, right?”

My gaze narrows. I hate that he’s talking about my parents like he knew them well. Anger rushes through my veins, hot and thick. There are no words coming from my mouth, but there’s a rumbling sound. It might have been a growl.

He sees my reaction and I swear his lips turn up in delight.

“I don’t want you getting upset. You’ve got your trust fund. Why don’t you hop on a plane and go have fun?”

Fuck that.

If Jerrod thinks I’m going to move aside while he takes what is rightfully mine, he’s dead wrong. I push the anger and shutter my face to gain control of my emotions.

A smirk splits my lips. “You’re right, Jerrod. I do have my trust fundandI’m going to be the president of The Spencer Foundation.”

He’s quiet a moment.

“Did you miss Grandfather’s speech? Where he said one’s personal life is a direct reflection of their character?” He shakes his head, mock sympathy settling over his features. “Yours is a mess, Rhys. You’re a tabloid’s wet dream, and because of that, you’ll never get the board’s approval.”

My jaw tightens. He’s right, and I hate it.

It’s going to take more than a charming smile to win the board over. To get them to see me as the best candidate for the position. But I’ve got three months until we turn thirty, until my grandfather steps down and the board votes.

Three months to do what? Find a girlfriend? Make my life look like a carbon copy of Jerrod’s?

It sounds like a nightmare. But the reality is if I don’t do it, if I don’t try, Jerrod will be president of The Spencer Foundation.

As if I feel someone watching me, my gaze shifts to the framed family portrait hanging above the mantel. I was eight or nine and we were on vacation in Italy. We had to stand still for hours. Jerrod and his family were there, too, and he spent the entire time running around making faces at me, trying to get me to move and react. At the time, I’d hated that he was free and I had to sit for the portrait.

My dad pulled me aside after and told me he was proud of how I’d handled the distraction. That sometimes life is distracting but keeping focus on your goal, on family, and what is most important is the key to success.

I’ve been distracted. Unfocused. But right now, in this moment, I know what is most important.

“Corinne and I are having a dinner party in a few weeks. The board members will be there so it’s only fair I invite you. Level playing field and all.” He moves to head back into the conference room but turns back again. “Oh, and feel free to bring a date. If you can narrow it down.”

I give him a patronizing smile. “Looking forward to it.”

Determination floods my veins as I turn toward the foundation’s office exit.

“May the best man win,” Jerrod calls as I stride down the hallway.

I’m tempted to flip him off, but instead, I throw him a backhanded wave.

Outside, the early summer heat hits me and all the bravado I mustered in front of Jerrod starts to slide off like a melting ice cream cone. A moment ago, I was certain, but now, I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.

What the fuck did I just get myself into?

Ramsey, my assistant, is waiting by the black SUV.

“To the airport?” he asks.

That was the plan before I walked into that meeting.

I hesitate.

I could leave.

Forget about what I told my grandfather, and all about The Spencer Foundation. Let Jerrod be president. Let himwin.

It’s what I’ve done so many times in the past. Bowed out because I didn’t care. Didn’t see the value in competing with Jerrod. The wins weren’t celebrated and the losses were rubbed in my face.

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