Page 43 of Rival Hearts
He was right about the jets selling themselves. They were as luxurious—if not more—as the yachts, and Ben had cracked the market with a new direction that garnered more interest. We used to sell the jets and yachts together, sort of a luxurylucky packet deal if the buyers invested more, but Ben had been pulling back a little, changing direction.
Usually, that idea didn’t bother me at all—it was his part of the business and not my problem.
But tonight, it just pissed me off.
“Yeah, well, you were the one who decided to jump ship, so I guess whatever you do now reflects only on you.”
Ben grinned. “Jump ship? I see what you did there.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Seriously, bro,” Ben said. “Since when are you so sour about me pulling out of Monaco? It’s not weird for menotto have private jets at theyachtshow, you know.”
I shook my head. “Sure. You can just go find your success somewhere else, let me deal with this bullshit alone.”
Ben raised his eyebrows. “I know you’re envious of my sales technique, but you’re not usually this grumpy. What’s up?”
I glared at my brother, but he was right. Ben and I had a sibling rivalry going on. He’d been pissed that I’d snagged the role of CEO, and he only took care of one division, he didn’t oversee all of it. And I was pissed that he did better than I did sometimes, even though I had the whole company running smoothly.
Was it stupid?
Yes.
Did that change anything?
Absolutely not. We were brothers, and what would a family business be if we didn’t bicker about bullshit like this?
I groaned and picked up my cup of coffee after the machine finished.
“Do you want coffee?”
“Sure.” He found a clean cup and handed it to me. I programmed the machine, and we stood in silence for a while.
“So, this campaign is really grating your tits, huh?” Ben asked, breaking the silence.
“Yeah,” I said gruffly.
Don’t mention Charlotte, I willed. I wasn’t in the mood to be nice about it. I would tell Ben to back the fuck up if he went there.
“Are they pissed?” Ben asked.
I frowned. “Who?”
“The investors.”
I sighed. “Yeah. Martinez, in particular, but she’s not the only one who reached out. They’re all worried about the negative publicity. I don’t know what they think they’re playing at, calling me out.”
“It’s not personal,” Ben said.
That was what Charlotte had said, too. They didn’t get it, though. To me, itwaspersonal. I’d poured my heart and soul into the company. I’d given it my all, and it was all I had to fall back on, too. My brothers went out and dated sometimes; they had hobbies; they did shit that allowed them to live a little. I didn’t have any of that. The company was everything, and my blood, sweat, and tears had gone into this place.
I didn’t want some activist campaign to bring me down after years and years of hard work.
Especially not when it was run by someone like Charlotte.
God, it was impossible to stop thinking about her.
“Maybe you should approach this differently,” Ben suggested.
