Mine to Steal (Mine to Love) (20 page)

Miller, Trey

September 5, 2014 8:18 PM

To: Young, Faith

Re: Re Marketing



Are you busy? If not, can you call me?
303-555-1836. I’ll explain.

-Faith

All right
, now she has my attention, but I’m not in any rush to respond, especially since I’m still checking over the first promo. It looks good but there are a few things I want to fix. I make the changes; sure he’ll like what I have on this one and save the file. The second promo needs a bit more of work, but I already know what needs to be done. I’ve assigned my best people to help with the graphics and then I’ll check it over again before showcasing it later next week.

I look at the time
, and it’s been almost thirty minutes since she emailed. I guess now is as good a time as any to make the call.

The phone rings twice before she picks up.

“Faith?”

“Yeah. Trey?”

“You told me to call.”

“Hold on a sec.” She must have set her phone down, because I hear muffled noises and then she’s back on the phone. “Sorry about that, are you busy?”

“I wouldn’t have called if I was.” When she doesn’t respond to my clipped response, I continue, “I’m not sure what you’re up to here, but I’m pretty sure your bosses wouldn’t be happy with you giving me your ideas.”

“It’s not me giving you my ideas if we’re working together,” she says, as if it explains everything.

“But we’re not working together. I have the marketing. You have the PR. The only way we ‘work together’ is for the campaigns I have put together.”

“Do you want to hear my ideas or not?”

“What’s in this for you?”

“Are you always this paranoid?” She throws my words back
at me.

“When I’m working with someone from RS, yeah, pretty much.”

“Okay, well there’s your first mistake. Like I told you, these are my ideas, and Rock Solid doesn’t know about them, which is why I came to you from my personal account. If it came out I was sharing information, even if it is mine, I could be fired. So as much as you think I can screw you over, I have as much, if not more, to lose.”

There is silence on the line
, and I weigh everything she’s told me. In essence, we have each other by the short and curlies by doing this, so what harm will it do to at least hear her out?

“I’m listening.”

“Can you meet tomorrow?”

I can’t help the groan that escapes. This would be the perfect out. “I can’t. I have dates tomorrow.”

“Dates? With an ‘s’ - plural? As in more than one?” If I could imagine her expression, I think she’s attempting to pick her jaw off the floor.

“Yeah
.” I run my hand through my hair knowing what she probably thinks of me. Hell, it sounds shitty to say it out loud. “My friend, the one who was with me in Chicago when I saw you -”

“The girlfriend, continue,” she says, as if it’s a point I failed to mention
- like her.

“No. Friend.” My voice is staccato in response before I continue, “she’s got it in her head I need to get back into the dating arena, so she’s set me up on a series of blind dates.”

Saying the words out loud, and the reality of what it means, makes me feel like a complete idiot.

Her laughter fills the line before she fights to contain it
, and I find that I want to hear that sound again. Although, it would be preferable that it is not
at
me.

“Oh my
God, you’re not kidding?”

“I wish I was,” I say through gritted teeth.

“Wait, wait,” she announces before I can say anything else. “I’ll get to the reason for the email in a second. What’s up with you that you need to be set up on blind dates?”

“I’ve been busy lately
, and Kayla decided to make me her pet project and set me up on a weekend of blind dates.”

“A weekend? How many are we talking here?”

“Four.”

“Four?”
she repeats, continuing to laugh at my expense. “What’s wrong with you?  Why would you have to go on
four
blind dates?”

“Nothing is
wrong
with me,” I seethe, annoyed with her presumption. “You sure do ask a lot of questions that are none of your business. And speaking of business, there was another reason you wanted to talk.”

“Yeah, so here’s the deal, like I
wrote in the email, I came up with some ideas. I know you have your own, but I’d like to run them by you and see what you think. Since you’re marathon dating this weekend, how about Tuesday afternoon?”

“I can’t Tuesday. How about Monday?”

“Alright, lemme check my schedule, and I’ll get back to you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. That’s fine.” It’s funny that this afternoon, we sat down for an unplanned, contentious lunch, and now I’m talking to her like nothing ever happened.
Almost
. I have to remember whom I’m dealing with here.

“Great. I’ll let you go. Sounds like you’ll need your strength for the weekend’s harem
.” She laughs once more. “Bye, Trey.”

“Goodnight.”

After talking to Faith last night, there are two things I am certain of. First, I’m not at all thrilled about any one of these four dates. One date takes effort, but four is more work than I’m willing to expend. Second, I am curious about her ideas for Cave, but I’m not yet sure I can really trust her.

The clock in the kitchen reads ten thirty, which means I need to get moving if I want to be on time, not that I really care. With the limited information I have via text about this lunch date, I’m not too eager to get out the door. I suppose now is as good a time as any to get dressed and head out. The couch would be the ideal place to chill all day, but if I don’t get out there, Kayla will never let me hear the end of it.

My hair is still damp from the shower I took when I woke up, but it’ll be dry by the time I get there. Jeans and a button-down will have to suffice because I’m going under protest. Kayla sends a short text, making sure I’m not backing out
, and I’m tempted to tell her no. Instead, I head out to meet bachelorette number one.

I’ve never been to
Flycatcher
. Hell, the name alone sounds like the health department should pay the place a visit, but titles are deceiving.

Date One ~ Logan

Certified Financial Planner, maybe Kayla thinks I need help with my taxes.

Flycatcher
is a bar and grill in the middle of downtown and parking is a pain in the ass. I’m curious if Logan has already made it and how am I going to recognize her. Kayla didn’t give me a description, a phone number, or anything else to distinguish her from anyone else.

There’s a sign that says to seat
yourself, but I have no clue who I’m meeting. I spot a woman with long blond hair sitting at the far wall alone. I approach her and wait for her to acknowledge me. When she does, she offers a smile, and I silently thank Kayla for the set up.

“Are you Logan?”

“You must be Trey.” She stretches her hand out to shake my own. Aside from the smile, she’s very businesslike. She’s wearing beige slacks and a loose purple top with too much jewelry. She looks beautiful but way overdressed for a place like this.

“Have you been here long?” I pull out a chair across from her and take a seat.

“I got here about forty-five minutes ago. I like to come in and people watch. Sometimes, like today, I like to read.” She holds a book up to show me what she’s reading, and it’s some self-help book. Since I don’t know what to say, I nod and smile as I take my seat.
Just like my dad taught me.

“So you’ve been here before?”

“Yeah, my family owns the place; I’m here most weekends.”

“That’s nice. And Kayla
told me you’re a financial planner?”

“Yeah, but it’s
a means to an end.” She puts the book down and shrugs.

“And what end would that be?”

“To settle down and get married.” The moment the words come out of her mouth, alarm bells are ringing in my head telling me to get the hell out of here, but I’m stuck. She’s not talking about marrying me, but that is what her goal is.

“Are you from here?”

“Oh no.” She laughs as she shakes her head. “I’m from Tennessee, but I went to school out here and loved it so much, I decided to stay.”

“I thought you said your family owns this place.” I look around, confused for a moment.

“They do. They packed up and moved out here to be near me.”

“That’s - nice,” I try to be as convincing as possible, but it’s a little hard.

“Yeah, I love having them so close. Hold on, let me get them.” Before I can stop her, she’s bolted out of her seat and heads toward the back of the restaurant.

I dig out my phone to send Kayla a text.

Me: I’m already meeting her parents. WTF?

Kayla: Seriously? When’s the wedding?

Me: Not. Funny.

Kayla: It can’t be
2 bad

Me: She’s coming back. Get me out of this.

I stuff the phone back into my pocket and stand up as Logan walks toward me, her arm linked through the arm of an older man with graying hair. His smile is forced, and it almost looks like she’s dragging him to someplace, or rather someone, he has no interest in meeting. A shorter, thin woman walks behind them with a warm grin.

“Trey, this is my dad, Logan.”
My eyes narrow in question as I glance between the two of them. “I was named after daddy,” she explains. “And this is my mom, Eloise.”

“It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Have a seat,” her dad orders as he sits in one of the chairs at the table and crosses his arms. Her mom sits to his left, Logan Jr. is at his right and I suddenly feel I’m being interviewed.

“So what do you do for a living, Trey?” Eloise looks at me with a friendly smile, but her dad is
still glaring.

“I own a marketing and public relations firm,” I answer, though I already know I will never see this girl again.

I’ve already checked out.

“Have you ever been married?” Logan
Jr. leans forward and rests her elbows on the table, her eyes trained on me.

“No,” I drag, confused by the insane questions on a first date. “Have you?”

“Of course not,” she answers defensively. “I don’t believe in divorce. What about you?”

“My parents are still married, but I guess some people
don’t know how to make it work,” I answer truthfully.
If
I ever get married, I plan on it being forever, but I won’t say that to her. Hell, she might think it’s a proposal, and I’m pretty certain these people are out of their minds.

Not only do I plan on strangling Kayla for this ridiculous set up, I think I might ‘
suddenly
’ get an emergency text to get the hell out of here. My phone is in my hand. I peek at the screen and hit the first number in my saved list.

“Do you like kids?”
her mother asks as she looks at Logan Jr.

“I’m so sorry, I’m getting a call, please excuse me
.” I jump out of my seat and pull my phone to my ear. “Hey Jett, what’s going on?”

“I
dunno, man. You called me,” he answers in confusion.

“
Yeah?” I pause and nod my head for emphasis, trying to keep a straight face. “Aw man, is it serious?”

“Is what serious? Did you
ass-dial me? Trey?”

“No, tell
Dad I’m leaving to get you now, and we’ll be there in twenty.”

“What the hell?”

“No, I’m with Logan, but I’m sure she’ll understand,” I finish and put an end to the call - and the date.

That’s probably one of the shittiest things I’ve ever done
to someone, but this one has to end. Now. When I turn around Logan is looking at me with concern.

“My mom is really sick
, and I have to get my brother so we can go see her,” I lie easily as I try to depart.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Logan sits upright, pushing her chair out to follow.

“No!” I shout with a little too much enthusiasm. “She might be contagious. But I have to go. It was nice meeting all of you.”

Logan slumps into her seat i
n defeat while her parents watch me with concern. I rush out the door and the chimes ringing announce my escape.

I don’t
bother to look back.

Jett is calling me, so I answer and fil
l him in on what he was hearing, listening as he laughs and comments how Logan was probably a sure thing.

“You should have gone with it, at least for the night.”

“Trust me, getting laid is not worth the years of therapy I’d have to go through because of that one. We’re talking potential psycho here.”