Page 2 of Crushing On My Brothers BFF

I notice a few of the other board members nodding, too. Tyrone gives me a look from the back of the room, eyebrow raised. He’s my second-in-command, and he’s good at his job. However, often, I wish Paul was here instead. Paul’s been my best friend since we were kids. We started this company together, but the business life was never for him. All he wants to do is bike, surf, climb, and disappear into the flow state. But I get Tyrone’s point. The days of stamping my fist and making it law are gone. I have to persuade them.

“It’s a strategic error, too,” I tell them. “If we want to brand ourselves as a sustainable company, we must go all the way, which you all know is cost-prohibitive right now. We’re doing our best for the environment. We’re doingwellbut attract attention the second we start waving that flag. People will get to the truth. The risk of a scandal far outweighs any temporary boost in public perception. There’s also the point that sustainability never sold a boxing glove or a pair of climbing shoes.”

That wins most of them around. When the vote comes, Lisa and Mark are left sourly pouting as the majority side with me. Once that’s handled, I leave the conference room, riding the elevator to my office with Tyrone. I glance at him. He’s fiddling with the end of one of his braids, as he often does when he’s got something on his mind.

“What is it?” I ask.

“What’swhat, boss?” he counters.

“Cut the crap. You know I value your advice.”

“They make a good point about the shareholders,” Tyrone says quietly. “It’s not the old days anymore.”

“Making this goddamn company public was the only goddamn way to save it.”

“That’s a lot of goddamns,” Tyrone says, chuckling.

“Now we have to fight tooth and nail for everything. We need a new product or a new PR campaign—something that will put the company back in people’s minds. That’s what our business is about. When a customer is at the store, they need a tether, something to attach to. That’s what we’re missing.”

The elevator opens onto my floor. Tyrone walks over to his assistant’s desk, spinning a few times. He’s twenty-five, but sometimes, he seems like a little kid. “Did you see the viral video from that ice cream company?”

“Should I have? What company?”

He waves a hand. “It doesn’t matter, but it sent their stock skyrocketing. Twenty percent increase likethat.” He snaps his fingers. “That’s what we need. A good video that will get people talking.”

“But they always come across as corny and forced,” I tell him. “We’ve tried. Many people have tried.”

“This one was homemade,” Tyrone replies. “I think a customer sent it in. It was about a child whose happiest moment was visiting one of the ice cream factories. Maybe we could do something like that but with our own angle.”

“Maybe,” I say, nodding. “Get a few people together and brainstorm some ideas. Bring me the best ones. I’ve got a call with our Europe office, right?”

“In ten minutes, yeah.”

“Then let’s get moving.”

After the call, I sit at my desk, looking through my floor-to-ceiling windows at the city. I’ve got a good life, I remind myself. I’ve got work I care about, even if it’s not the same as it could’ve been. Both my parents are alive and healthy, living in sunny Spain. I’ve got friends, maybe no one as close as Paul. If Iwanted, I could date any number of women. So why do I feel soflat?

My cell phone rings, my personal one. I take it from my inside suit jacket pocket. It’s Paul. I answer right away. Paul and I are still close despite living on different sides of the country. I moved to the East Coast office three years ago when the company went public, but Paul visits several times a year. We video chat all the time. I’m always happy to forget about my troubles for a while by talking with my best buddy.

“Bit early for you to be up, isn’t it?” I say, laughing. “It’s hardly nine a.m. there.”

“Kaleb?” It’s a woman’s voice. The emotion in her tone makes me sit up. “It’s… it’s bad.”

“What’s bad?” I say. “Who is this?”

“Sophie,” she replies, and now she sounds a little offended. Or maybe that’s my imagination.

She sounds different. The last time I saw her, she was, what, sixteen? She must be nineteen now. She sounds like a woman.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Paul. He’s been in an accident.”

CHAPTER TWO

Sophie

This has nothing to do with the crush. Whatever happens—if it’s just this phone call or Kaleb decides to fly over—I will never let my silly, girlish childhood crush get in the way of their friendship. My brother needs me now.

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