Page 1 of Flirting with the CEO

Chapter One

Colton

"Come on, brother. You'vegot to stop being a grump eventually."

My youngest brother Gabe could be a pain in my backside, but as I cocked a brow and looked around at the rest of my brothers, I noted they all had smug smiles. "So, what, you all wanted to meet here to crawl up my ass?"

"No," Gabe corrected. "We wanted to celebrate."

"You're the one who brought the bad mood to the table," Jake directed at me. He was the second oldest andusuallythe least annoying of them all.

I had to laugh when my middle bro, Spencer, chimed in too. "Dude, come on. I left Penny to stay with Ben on her own to come here. You'd better put on a good face."

"You're the one who started this whole thing and asked about the reason I'm frowning," I countered with exasperation.

"One of these days, maybe you’ll learn what a rhetorical question is," Gabe noted, then asked, "So, everyone wants shots?"

"Yes," I said. There was a nod of approval from the rest of my brothers too. The five of us had come here to celebrate Gabe’s business, Whitley Distillery & Bar, being listed as one of the top five places to be in Boston. He'd only opened it a few months ago, but it was no surprise to me. When my brother put his mind to something, he aimed to be the best. That was true for all of us Whitleys.

I downed the shot quickly. It burned my throat but had the calming effect I was looking for.

"You've got a great selection of booze," I praised my brother.

"Thanks. How much time do all of you have tonight?"

The bar was bustling with people. I couldn't see us staying for too long. I had an early day tomorrow, and so did the rest of my brothers. Besides, Gabe had his hands full with the guests. He was the CEO of the distillery by day and insisted on spending his evenings in the bar. He’d aptly named it Whitley Distillery & Bar because everything was in one place, the bar in the front and the distillery in the back.

"We’ve only just arrived, and you already want to kick us out?" Jake asked. Someone was in a good mood.

"I was just trying to figure out how drunk I can get all of you and how much time I have to do it."

"Not me," I said.

Spencer rolled his eyes. "He was just making a joke. Although, come to think of it, maybe getting you shit-faced would take the stick out of your ass."

"Why are you so convinced this shadowing thing will be a disaster?" Cade asked me. He was Spencer’s twin, but the two had very different personalities. Although Cade was channeling Spencer right now.

"Because they're sending this Zoey Thomas to babysit me, and that won't do. I like to call the shots."

"Don't we all?" Cade responded.

We were each CEOs of our own companies. Whitley Industries was a mammoth in the business world. My father almost ran it into the ground, destroying all of our grandfather's hard work, but my brothers and I had done a great job picking up the pieces after he left. Father had a secret family, which was a long depressing story I’d rather not think about. So when the time came, we divided up the businesses. Cade had taken over the coffee branch, Spencer the publishing company. Gabe was running the craft distillery that he'd expanded in ways none of us could have imagined. Jake had returned to Boston recently and was in charge of Whitley Advertising.

So yeah, we all liked to call the shots. Me probably more than them. I figured it was because I was the oldest brother. I'd been working on a breakthrough in my biotech company for two years, and a few months ago, I'd finally succeeded. Now we were in the process of bringing the immune-boosting supplement on the market. Whitley Biotech didn't have a production facility—we were strictly research and development—so we had to partner up with another company to actually make it.

The business worked well, at least from my point of view. I handed off most of the internal and external communication to my managers. They’d contact me with emails, requests for meetings, and calls as needed. For the most part, I ignored it. I was an R&D guy and had to come up with the next discovery. It was what I did best.

But our partners, especially the ones involved in production, disagreed. They labeled me uncooperative and difficult—which was probably true, because I was busy. So we were given an ultimatum in order for them to continue to work with us: I had to bring in an expert in organizational management—whatever crap that was—and work with her for a while. Zoey Thomas was supposed to help me develop my organization and communication skills. In other words, she was going to babysit me, and I didn’t like it one bit.

I turned to Jake. "Brother, I apologize again for hijacking your wedding with business talk last week.”

"You didn't," he responded.

I felt guilty because the first time I'd found out Zoey was going to work with me was at his wedding. I’d been determined to avoid bringing up the topic, but my brothers could always tell when there was something on my mind.

"It's a good thing you did so we could give you shit about it. I still stand by my original point," Gabe said.

I was looking over his shoulder at his bartenders. They were scurrying about. Gabe was clearly needed, and we were in the way.

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