Page 9 of True Honey
“My advice? Burn it all,” Arlo said, cutting me off and I shook my head when he offered me a sympathetic smile.
“Seymour wants to sign those shares over to me, but the board won’t approve it because they don't believe I'm ready for the responsibility.” I explained.
“You’ve been runningeverythingfor years,” Arlo said, clearly just as confused as I was.
“Exactly,” I said, “but I guess what they mean is a little more superficial.”
“They don’t want a boss, they want a face they can show off,” Arlo was catching on. It was one of his best traits. Talking to him had always been easy because our brains, for the most part, operated on the same frequency. My thoughts were almost always his and vice versa, give or take a few times when we butted heads.
“They don’t think that I’m ready to take over because I don’t have a serious relationship, a family, kids,” I said.
“That’s bullshit, so what Seymour expects you to get a serious girlfriend before he croaks?” Arlo sounded as exhausted by the thought as I felt.
“A wife.” I corrected him. “He wants me to find a wife.”
“This is the plot of one of Ella’s romance novels, Si.” Arlo shook his head in disbelief and a small laugh left his lips.
“Trust me, I know. I’ve been sitting on the information for three days just trying to figure out how the fuck I’m going to pull this off.” I huffed.
“A wife.” Arlo leaned back in his chair, pushing his hat up and laughing at me. Like chest rumbling, stomach clenching, laughing at me.
“Fuck you,” I snapped and it only made him laugh harder.
“Does Seymour know that you’ve fucked half of Harbor?” Arlo cackled and honestly it was refreshing to see him smile.
“He said,screwing women like you’re yourfather'sson.Word for fucking word.” I sighed, but the laughter bubbled up and soon we were both a mess.
“Holy shit, you’re so fucked,” Arlo said breathlessly after a few moments of unbridled laughter between us.
“Do you think I could go back through the catalog?” I asked, thinking about all the women I’d dated in the last little while… dated being a loose term.
“No,” Arlo shook his head. “If you want to pull this off, you have to start fresh, and preferably with someone you can bring home to your mother.”
“That felt judgmental,” I scowled.
“It was, you have horrible taste in women as of late, and off the top of my head there’s not one I would even let you introduce to Ella,” Arlo said.
“That’s rude. Ella’s met Kayla.”
“Oh yeah, bring Kayla home to your mom but record it when you start explaining how you met and how many times you’ve fucked her in the Hilly’s utility closet.” Arlo raised a brow, and those dark eyes narrowed in on me.
“Alright, not Kayla,” I said.
“Maybe it’s time you get on one of those dating apps,” Arlo suggested.
“Yeah fuck that,” I refused. I looked over at the time and groaned, “I gotta meet Ella in five, thanks for bringing me lunch.”
“Finish mine.” He pointed to the container. He had eaten everything and left the potatoes untouched. I nodded with a smile as he pushed from his chair and grabbed the paper detailing the pitching schedule. “You coming to Hilly’s later?” He asked before walking away.
“I got too much work to do,” I brushed him off and started organizing for my meeting.
“Silas,” Arlo called out, standing in the doorway looking at me. “Last thing. Tell Grandpa Shore to fuck off about the kid bullshit.”
“Yeah?” I laughed.
“Yeah. You have kids, a whole fucking Nest of them.”
I laughed, and he winked at me before leaving and closing the door behind him.
