Page 22 of Fireworks & Forehead Kisses

I sighed, “It says that I will have another onboarding interview with someone named Hannah next week, and if I want to keep my job, I need to be professional and not take his grandmother to the pier to film an audition for a reality show in a death trap of a car. He also said that I am on probation and that as acting CEO of Wolfe Enterprises, he will be overseeing all ventures of Wolfe Clothing, including new product lines. Hewill expect daily progress reports of design, source materials, production, price points, market, and distribution.”

“You took his grandmother to the pier?”

“Yeah, to film my audition for Married by a Matchmaker.”

“Oh, you applied?”

I nodded.

My sister had no poker face. I could tell she was not happy about my choice to throw my name in the ring to marry a stranger, but she was also expecting a child by the love of her life, who she was married to, so she didn’t know how hard it was out there in the dating app streets.

“Did you know that the job entailed all that?”

“No, not really.”

“Can you do all that?” Skylar asked.

Part of me wanted to say no; there was no way I could do all that. But there was another part of me—the part that wanted to say yes. It was the part that wanted to prove Declan Wolfe wrong.

8

DECLAN

I staredat the numbers on the screen. I’d gone over them a thousand times, but a thousand and one wouldn’t hurt. This was potentially the most critical meeting I’d ever have in my life. I needed to project confidence, competence, and cohesiveness in all three branches of the business: Wolfe Hotels and Resorts, Wolfe Tequila, and Wolfe Clothing. The trustees had to believe that my transition into my grandfather’s role was seamless and that their investments and stocks were in good hands. If not, the company could take serious losses.

As I scanned the projections for the third and fourth quarters again, a bubble popped up in the top right corner from Hannah that read:Mrs. Wolfe incoming.

I wondered, after Serena and I got married, if she would take my name and there would be another Mrs. Wolfe. Derek’s wife Raquel had decided to keep her last name, so she wasn’t a Wolfe. Serena and I hadn’t discussed that. I wondered why it hadn’t come up in the seven years we’d been together.

Speaking of Serena, I pulled out my phone to see if she’d responded to one of the three texts I’d sent her this morning. She hadn’t. For the past two weeks, I’d been trying to pin my fiancéedown for dinner. She kept postponing. If I were a paranoid man, I would swear she was avoiding me. Every night, she’d had an event suddenly come up, or a photo shoot, or a dinner with her agent—something that kept her away until after I was already in bed. The only time I’d seen her was in the morning when I got up, and she was still asleep. In four days, I would be leaving for six months. The plan was for her to join me in two weeks, but I wanted to speak to her before I got on the plane to Japan.

I stood and was halfway to the office door when it opened. Gran walked in with the air of class, grace, and sophistication that I’d always admired in her. Even at ninety-two, she commanded attention in any room she entered.

Today she wore black pinstripe trousers. A crisp white button-down t-shirt with oversized cuffs and collar, a red handbag, red flats, and a red lip completed her fashion-forward look. Her jewelry was a combination of gold and silver. I’d noticed since my grandfather passed that she’d been more daring in her clothing, makeup, and jewelry. Not anything crazy, just a little more of her own personal style was shining through.

I wondered how much of herself she’d dimmed to be Mrs. Dexter Xavier Wolfe. While he was alive, I hadn’t given it much thought. He was a man who took up so much space—so much air. His presence clouded things, and now I felt like I was seeing them much more clearly.

“Hello, Gran. You look beautiful.” I leaned down and kissed her cheek.

“Yes, I know, dear.” She patted my arm before lowering herself onto a chair facing my desk.

“I didn’t see your brother or Raquel on my way in.”

“I haven’t seen or heard from either one of them since Grandad’s funeral.”

Her lips pursed. She dealt more closely with Raquel than I ever had, and I wondered if she had more insight into what was going on.

“Have you heard from either of them?” I asked.

“No. I haven’t.”

“They know the meeting is today,” I stated.

“Yes. They do,” she agreed.

In my family, there were a lot of things that were left unsaid. In fact, we rarely talked about anything. We never talked about my father’s addictions or my brother’s drinking and drug use. We never talked about the rampant infidelity in my family. My brother cheated. My father cheated. My grandfather cheated. Yet they all claimed to love their wives. In fact, the reason my father said he cheated was because he loved my mom so much that he couldn’t handle her being sick, so he cheated to take away the pain. My grandfather claimed he loved my grandmother so much that he didn’t tell her that he cheated. And my brother claimed that even though he cheated, the fact that he was married proved how much he loved his wife, like she’d won some prize being the woman he chose to be with.

What kind of love was that?

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