Page 9 of My Book Boyfriend
“She liked theideaof me more than therealme.”
Rowena pinches my cheeks. “How could she not like the real you?”
“Ouch,” I say, without any heat.
“I thoughtPage Sixhad you dating someYouTubestar.”
“Grandpa set that up. He met her grandfather at a college reunion.”
“And so of course you went,” Rowena says.
“And so of course I did.”
“Grandpa’s little yes man.”
“Within reason.” I shrug and study Rowena. She and I both know that Grandpa calls the shots in our family. Rowena is less biddable, but her dad is CEO. He’s in her corner, politicking for her to take his place when he retires.
And I’m not prepared to scare off my dates like she did with the last one Grandpa set up. She gave him the supercilious silent treatment. I reserve that for our business competitors.
“Did you even watch herYouTubevideos before you went on the date?” Rowena leans forward.
“I watched one of them. She had a sense of humor.”
“What was the problem then?”
“She wasn’t into reading.” I lean back in my chair. Lily definitely reads.
“That shouldn’t completely rule Ms. YouTuber out.”
“No. But I’m pretty busy right now anyway, especially if we’re actually going to do this project. And she seemed very social, so she’d be disappointed, like Anastasia, when I completely disappear for work.”
“The project is not a total nightmare. It’s a great location, and although it’s a PR problem with the Oasis Garden nonprofit, it’s not like they have a lease to the land,” Rowena says. “We own that land. We can always counter it by giving some money to support the farmer’s market near the Museum of Natural History. I can’t imagine that anything grown in New York City is that safe anyway. The layer of dust I have on my windowsill if I leave it open belies that, and I live in Brooklyn.”
“It’s a good idea to donate money to the farmer’s market,” I say. “But I still hate these kinds of PR problems. And that garden has been there for twenty years. They have programs with the library, the local school, and some retirement centers. That’s a lot of different constituents that I don’t particularly want to mess with. Particularly Upper West Side moms and retirees.”
“There’s my idealistic Rupert. You like to be the knight in shining armor, coming in and creating affordable housing.”
“What I don’t like to be is the Grinch.” Not again, anyway. And not when bad press could hinder my bid for co-CEO.
“But you weren’t the Grinch, exactly. You paid for that family’s two-month hotel stay out of your own pocket until we could get them settled in open, affordable housing units.”
“That’s still not the same as having a home at Christmas.” At least that first project had prepared me for a negative tsunami of press coverage. “Grandpa was so nonchalant about kicking them out. Business is business. No room for emotions.” At least Grandpa had been impressed by my actions. “It’s good you’re not a softie,” he’d said. He hadn’t known about my footing the hotel bill.
Rowena folds her arms. “As if Dad and Grandpa aren’t emotional about the business. They’re just fooling themselves if they think they’re not. But whatever. I’m going to play this game until he gives us the CEO title.”
“Even with the CEO title, I’m not sure it will stop,” I say. “He’s always holding that carrot, and it’s like every time, we have to prove ourselves again and again.” There’s no escape. Even my father, who refused to work for the family business, felt the pressure to prove himself to Grandpa.
“He’ll have less power if we’re CEO. The business world has changed.”
My glance meets Rowena’s. That’s the reward. We both adore Grandpa as our grandfather but much less as our boss. Independence is the prize. For Rowena and I to have the final say in the locations, the designs, the funding—to make the CEO decisions. It’s been thirteen years of working around the clock for my family business, conforming to the wishes of my uncle and my grandfather, while Rowena and I bide our time for the chance to do more daring, creative projects and expand internationally.
The business world is different nowadays.
“But isn’t there a way to build so we can keep most of the garden?” I ask. “We were planning on having some garden space. Can’t we just incorporate this already-existing community garden instead?” I turn on my computer and click on the file that shows the space.
Rowena narrows her eyes. “Possibly. Architecturally, it would be cool, but Grandpa …”
“Grandpa should realize that this will get us community goodwill and the same twenty-story building.”
