Page 3 of Sincerely Not Yours

“Hope the rest of your day is better,” she called with forced optimism. He nodded and disappeared. Quickly, Gigi gathered her tote bag and what was left of her dignity. Sighing, she headed for her desk, running a hand over her face in disgust.

Could she be any more of a mess this morning? She’d completely embarrassed herself in front of some guy on the way to meet with one of the Ryans. And now she’d probably also have a big goose egg on her forehead. Her only consoling thought was that, at the very least, she’d never see Mr. Swanky Suit again.

Chapter Two

“If Dad wants to sell the company, SheTime needs to be dissolved,” Harris said, leaning against the cold window of his brother’s corner office. His gaze drifted down to the gridlocked traffic far below. Cars jammed the streets, mirroring the irritation growing inside him.

“Harris, we’ve been over this. Dad’s just trying to get you back into the business. He doesn’t really want to sell.” Dean, his younger brother and the current CEO of Ryan & Ryan, stood from his sleek mahogany desk. He stared at Harris in disbelief, though it was hard to take him seriously in his football jersey.

“Dad doesn’t make empty threats.”

“That’s why I asked you to come back and talk some sense into him.”

Harris pulled his hand from his pocket and ran it through his hair. “Once Dad makes up his mind, there’s no talking sense intohim. You know that as well as I do.” Their dad was as stubborn as a mule, and he wasn’t likely to change his mind about his most recent decision—to retire and pass on the family business tobothof his sons.

“You seriously think Dad’s going to retire and spend his days cruising the Bahamas? Or doing crossword puzzles?” Harris couldn’t hide the snark in his questions. Their dad was not the average seventy-year-old. He didn’t know the meaning of “relaxation.” Never had. Harris couldn’t picture him not working. He’d always meddle with the company, in some form. In fact, if it weren’t for his new wife, their dad would continue working until death came knocking at his office door.

“Nah.” Dean shook his head. “More like trips to Paris and Italy. Karen’s already planned a month in Europe for her and Dad in the spring. And then they’re going to spend the summer at the lake house. They want the grandkids to come visit them.”

Harris nearly choked on his tongue. “Seriously?”

“Serious as a snowman in a heatwave.” Dean rounded his desk and Harris squinted at him, not able to connect the father he knew with the husband Karen was hoping for. The only vacations Harris remembered from his childhood were before his mother had passed. His father would fly in to join them for a day or two. Or not at all.

Pressing the length of his arm against the window, Harris leaned into the chilled glass. “Didn’t take her long to convince him to retire, huh?”

Dean furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? They’ve been married for seven years, and she’s been bugging him to retire since the wedding.”

“Seven years?” Had it really been that long?

“I think you’d actually like Karen if you took the time to get to know her. She’s good to Dad and the kids love her.”

Harris nodded, slowly. He didn’t really have a reason not to like Karen. It was his dad he didn’t trust. Karen was his fourth wife. He’d remarried a few years after Mom passed, and it’d taken Harris most of his teenage years to warm up to his stepmom. Then, after high-school—once she felt like family—his dad and she divorced and Harris lost another major part of his life. He married again for a few short years in his fifties. Even now, Harris didn’t trust that his dad fully committed to much, at least outside of work.

“I’m sure she’s nice. She’s got to have the patience of a saint to put up with Dad,” Harris said, and Dean shrugged in agreement. “But I’m not here to talk about Dad’s marriage. I’m here to talk about the future of Ryan & Ryan.” His shoulders squared, considering the ultimatum Dad had given them. “I’ve got my own life. I can’t just drop everything because Dad decided it’s time for me to play the dutiful son.”

Dean sighed. Worry etched his face. Their dad wantedbothhis sons working for the family business. If that didn’t happen, he’d sell Ryan & Ryan next year to their largest competitor, a billion-dollar conglomerate that’d turn and burn the business. That was why Harris was here, standing in Dean’s office and placating their father.

Though he wasn’t here for their father. He was here for Dean.

“I get it,” Dean said. “I really do. But it’s not just about the company, Harris. It’s about us. We’re a family. We built this together. I don’t want to lose the company Grandpa started with blood, sweat, and tears. Do you?”

The brothers locked eyes, the weight of family history and expectations hanging in the air.

“Grandpa is rolling over in his grave right now, Dean. He’d smack Dad upside the head for even considering the situation he’s put us both in.” Harris shook his head. His brother wanted to take over the family business. It was all he’d ever wantedsince they were little. Harris was content to live the life he’d created for himself in New York City. But their dad had thrown a wrench into both of their plans, mainly because it irked him that Harris had made his own way. He had his own thriving business, making it hard for his dad to control him.

“I’m here for you.” Harris fixed his stare on Dean. “I’ll stay through Christmas. Hopefully, we can persuade Dad to sell to you by then.” Even if it forced Harris to work alongside his dad, something he swore he’d never do again. But if they couldn’t change their dad’s mind by Christmas, Harris was certain his mind would never change.

Dean’s shoulders sagged in obvious relief, and he gave Harris a crooked smile. “Thanks for coming, brother.”

Harris nodded. He stood from the window, rubbing a hand over his jaw in thought, but a throb of pain reminded him of the headbutt he’d received this morning—from a curiosity of a woman. Picturing her, Harris wondered what she did at Ryan & Ryan. She didn’t fit the mold, and that intrigued Harris. Even now, he couldn’t help grinning at her explanation of the cat sweater. Harris was sure it irked his father to no end. His dad loved football and needed everyone around him to fall in line with his way of thinking. Particularly if they were on his payroll.

Harris smirked, appreciating her tenacity. But when his mind wandered to her angelic face and the gentle curve of her lips—which he had studied when she had been draped on top of him—he cleared his throat and shifted to a new subject. The last thing he needed was to get distracted by a woman. Especially, one that worked for his father.

“I’m going to run a full analysis on SheTime,” Harris announced. “I ran the financials last night, and that division is bleeding money.” At least he could make himself useful while he was here.

“It’s an investment in our future. There’s a lot of marketing involved in growing a new brand.”

Harris crooked an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with the economical soaps we’ve been manufacturing for fifty years?”

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