Page 7 of Surprisingly Us

My grandfather nods at Jerrod.

What the fuck?

Jerrod’s taking over as the foundation board president?

“Wait. When was this decided?” I motion to Jerrod.

My grandfather’s mouth draws downward. “It hasn’t been officially, but there’s been no indication that there were other candidates.” He looks pointedly at me. I’m the only other candidate that would be eligible. Jerrod’s mom, my dad’s sister, would be the only other blood relative candidate, but she divorced Jerrod’s dad years ago then moved to Costa Rica with a surfer named Rodney.

He’s right. I haven’t been involved with The Spencer Foundation, but the thought of handing overmyparents’ legacy to Jerrod makes my stomach turn sour.

“May we speak privately?” I ask my grandfather, nodding to the door of the conference room, needing to get away from all the sets of eyes on me.

He gives a half-nod in response, and we stand to exit the room, only to find Jerrod has followed us. Clearly, he doesn’t know what the fuck ‘privately’ means. I ignore him and focus on my grandfather.

“I want the position.” The words are out of my mouth before I can fully weigh their implications.

“Hmm.” His fingers pinch his lower lip before he releases it. “It’s good to see you taking interest, but it’s not my decision to make.”

“Can’t you choose your successor?” I ask.

“I have influence, but ultimately the board will vote. That’s how the foundation has been set up.”

I look through the glass door where the board members are still seated. Jerrod had entered the room earlier, making the rounds, shaking hands, and easily conversing with the foundation’s board members.

I should know who the other board members are, recognize their faces and know what is going on in their lives, but I don’t. I’m suddenly ashamed I don’t know much about them or thefoundation. That I’ve distanced myself from the one thing my parents valued outside of spending time with our family.

“The minimum requirement is that you’re thirty years of age, which both you and Jerrod will be in three months’ time.”

Our birthdays are only a day apart. I’m older by sixteen hours. A fact I used to rile him up more than once when we were kids.

“Are there other requirements?” Jerrod speaks up from beside me. “Anything that would help us understand the candidate they’re looking for?”

“The foundation has always prided itself on its upstanding character and morally conscientious board. Board members exemplify and follow a code of ethics.”

My grandfather’s gaze shifts to me.

“It is important to remember that the care one shows in their personal life is a direct reflection of their character and how they will handle themselves as the president of the foundation. The Spencer Foundation is highly regarded, and its board president must be as well. It’s more than handing out checks. The president is the face and the moral fiber of the foundation.”

I swallow thickly as my mind recalls the past five years. It’s been an endless string of parties and wild adventures. My sex life could be likened to the montage fromWedding Crashers, falling into bed with a different woman every night. The woman who texted me her tits earlier is only one of many.

Jerrod’s comment about the articles circulating about my exploits. Even while I’ve been abroad, every club spotting, every woman on my arm has been relayed by the media, establishing a reputation that is nothing like the one my grandfather mentioned.

My grandfather’s voice draws me back to the conversation.

“With two candidates, there will need to be a vetting process. The board members will want to get to know you better,” henods to Jerrod, “and your significant other, as the president and their partner are often seen as the embodiment of the foundation.”

My stomach sinks again. Jerrod’s girlfriend, Corinne Marks, is not only gorgeous and successful but her family owns one of the country’s top grocery store chains. She’s exactly the kind of woman that would be the board president’s girlfriend or wife. That’s his advantage. And he knows it.

The more my grandfather talks, the more uneasy I feel.

All my past exploits are flashing before my eyes and it’s not pretty. Not to say the women weren’t gorgeous, because they were fucking knockouts, but it’s the amount of them that’s an issue. And there were a lot.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. Likely another DM or text from some hookup I can’t remember.

“I will let the board know you are both interested in the position, and I’ll be in touch with the details of the selection process.”

I’m watching my grandfather return to the conference room when Jerrod claps a hand down on my shoulder.

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