Page 33 of If You Give a CEO a Chance

“Daddy, I missed you while I was at school,” she exclaims, leaping into his arms.

“Ladybug, I’m on a work call with your uncles. Can it wait?” Dylan asks firmly.

“Hi, Uncle Harrison. Hi, Uncle Cash.” She ignores him as she waves to the camera. “Uncle Harrison, do you like my jersey? It’s just like yours,” she says proudly.

When I was in Aspen Grove visiting, I took Lola to the ice rink. It was empty, so the attendant let me bring out my hockeystick and puck. Lola and I had a blast, and now she’s all about hockey, telling everyone she’s going to be a pro just like her uncle Harrison.

“It’s perfect, ladybug. It looks amazing with your tutu and matches your hair bows.”

She runs her hands down her hair, preening for the camera. “Thanks. Mom let me put the bows in by myself today.”

I let out a low whistle. “You did a great job.”

Lola throws her arms around Dylan’s neck, tipping her head to look at him. “What do you think, Daddy? Do you like them?”

“They’re beautiful, just like you.” He beams, giving her a playful tap on the nose, causing her to burst into giggles.

It’s great to see him so happy. When Marlow, his fiancée, came along, he was a grumpy cynic whose primary focus was raising Lola and growing Stafford Holdings. She has brought light into his life and taught him how to smile again.

“Ladybug, what can I help you with?” Dylan asks.

“Mom had to take a phone call and told me to play in my room until she was done. But Waffles and the puppies started playing tug-of-war with the pillows and ripped one open. Now there are feathers all over.” She throws her hands up for emphasis.

That’s when I notice a feather tucked in the waistband of her tutu, another caught in her hair. It could be worse. Last time she burst in during a call, she was covered in blue glitter, with the dogs trailing behind her in the same sparkly mess. Dylan said it took hours to clean up.

“Alright, ladybug, we’ll take care of it.” He presses a kiss to her head. “Sorry, guys, we’re going to have to cut this short.” He lifts Lola, setting her on the ground, and rises from his chair. “Marlow’s probably on a call about her upcoming art exhibit, so I better take care of this before she’s interrupted.” He bends over so we can see his face on the screen.

“No problem. We can reschedule,” I assure him.

“Thanks.” Dylan drops off the conference call, leaving me alone with Cash, a smug expression on his face.

“Will you cut it out?” I ask.

He holds up his hands. “What? I’m not doing anything.”

My phone pings on my desk. “Right,” I say skeptically, glancing down to read the incoming text before glancing back at Cash. “Listen, I have to call one of the board members. He wants to discuss a new land deal in Vegas,” I say, grateful for the distraction.

Cash gives an exaggerated eye roll. “Uh-huh, you’re just worried I’m going to keep pestering you about Fallon,” he teases.

He’s not wrong.

“Bye, Cash,” I say, hanging up the call.

Something tells me the salt in my coffee was just the beginning of Fallon’s retaliation for the spider prank. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued to see what she does next.

That night, I meet with my friend Dawson at the bar down the street.

I’m already seated with a drink in hand when he gets there, and he slides into the seat next to me. “Now a bad time to cash in my second favor?” he teases.

My brothers and I ran into some legal trouble when acquiring Townstead International, and I went to him for advice. After his team did some digging, they discovered that the former owner, Richard, had all but driven his business into the ground with embezzlement, tax evasion, kickbacks—the list goes on.

Dawson is a ruthless lawyer who doesn’t shy away from controversy or difficult situations, and he agreed to help me deal with Richard with the caveat that aside from his exorbitant retainer, my brothers and I owed him a couple of favors.

“Now that your brothers have settled down, does that mean you’re next?” he taunts.

I glance over, my expression flat. “I’m not in the mood for your antics today.”

“You’re gloomier than usual,” he observes. “Want to talk about it,friend?”

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