Page 13 of Death in the Family
Camilla wasn’t the only one keen on welcoming Jasper’s new girl. The smell of Norton’s fresh-baked rolls and something tangy-sweet Flynn later discovered was sour-cream coffee cake wafted through the house. When Jasper flopped down on the couch in the parlor and pulled Abella onto his lap, Flynn excused himself and went upstairs.
“Well, I finally met the girlfriend.” Flynn dropped his overnight bag on the bedroom floor and pulled the door shut behind him. “Honestly, what does Jas see in her? She’s got the personality of a dead fish and a complexion to match.”
Ned Yeboah sat up. He was on the bed with his long legs crossed at the ankles and an iPhone in his hand. “Girlfriend,” he repeated. “So he hasn’t done it yet.”
“Done what?”
“Nothing, just... I heard Jas might pop the question.”
Flynn chuckled. “The day Jasper settles down is the day Nana sprouts wings and shits rainbows. Where’d you get that idea?”
“Jade will say anything for attention, I guess.”
“You should know better than to listen to her.” Flynn sat down on the bed and said, “You made it out early.” He’d lost track of Ned that morning, having been busy at work. The only contact they’d had all day was the pointed text Ned sent when he arrived at the river. “How’d you manage it?” Flynn asked.
Ned shrugged. “Caught a lift with Bebe.”
“Huh. Where were Miles and Jade?”
“They had stuff to do before leaving the city. Bebe offered. I accepted.”
“You should have waited for me.”
Ned gave him a long, dull look before returning his gaze to his screen. “Your nana’s waiting,” Ned said. “Better run along.”
Knowing Ned was right about his grandmother, Flynn made his way upstairs to see Camilla. But the strained exchange and curt good-bye would trouble him for hours.
—
“How long have you been dating?” I asked when Flynn paused to roll his neck. His account suggested he and Ned weren’t getting along, but this was a one-dimensional view of a two-sided relationship.
“Six months,” Flynn replied. “Jasper’s the one who introduced us.”
I had a vague idea of where the Sinclairs’ fortune came from; Tim had mentioned something about fashion, which didn’t jibe with the old-money claim for me. But Flynn described Sinclair Fabrics as the largest designer drapery and upholstery outlet in the city,established by Camilla’s husband in the 1930s and managed by members of the Sinclair family ever since. When Flynn’s father died two years ago, Flynn took over the finances and Bebe was appointed CEO. Only Jasper had held out. He hadn’t joined the company until last year, when he became its director of marketing and PR.
It was Jasper who discovered Ned—that’s the way Flynn put it, as if Ned was an unknown exoplanet or a distant star. Ned had a YouTube channel where he offered fashion tips to a few hundred thousand subscribers. It was a small audience by social media marketing standards, but apparently Jasper liked Ned’s style and felt Ned could connect with the hip young designers that composed the company’s target market. Jasper proposed a partnership, and Ned became the face of Sinclair Fabrics. His job was to produce sponsored videos that highlighted the company’s products in exchange for a yearlong contract that paid two hundred grand. If Flynn hadn’t stopped by their first video shoot to chastise Jasper for spending a fortune on a YouTube star, Flynn and Ned might never have met.
“So you work together. You and Ned.”
“Not directly,” said Flynn, “but we both work for the business.”
“Sounds like joining your family’s company was a big win for him,” I said. “How’s the video stuff going? I’ve got a teenage niece who’s obsessed with YouTube. She talks about YouTubers like they’re real-life BFFs. Has Ned’s—what do you call it—follower count gone up?” I asked because I needed to find out how the arrangement was affecting Ned’s own business prospects. He was making a killing off Jasper at the moment, but his contract was half over, and the man who’d employed him was suddenly gone.
“We have a strong brand,” Flynn said. “Associating himself with us has gotten him a lot of attention.”
“That’s a good thing, right? More exposure for him means more exposure for you.”
“Except Ned’s getting offers from other brands. Bigger ones.”
Bingo. I waited.
“He thinks we’re holding him back, if you can believethat,” Flynn said. “He got greedy is more like it. And now Ned wants to be released from his contract.”
“And you’re not cool with that.”
“He signed an exclusive agreement with us, so he’s legally bound to the company,” Flynn explained as I recrossed my legs and jotted more notes. “Everyone knows him as our spokesperson now. It’d be devastating for our brand if he walked away—not to mention a breach of contract.”
“A drag for you, too, I bet. Having your hot celebrity boyfriend sashaying around the office is a hell of a job perk.”
