Page 9 of Building Romance
Me: (eye-rolling emoji)
CHAPTER FOUR
Fletch
I finish my whiskey and set the glass on my brother’s island.
“She had the audacity to ask if I wanted a war? Like, what the fuck?” I state angrily. I was trying to do the right thing by buying her out. Well, it’d also make my life easier, but that’s beside the point. If I could buy her café, I could close it down and get rid of our competition. We would become the new neighborhood hot spot. And I could finally prove to my family that I’m not some fuckup playboy any longer. But now, this fiery pain-in-my-ass woman is trying to win a war against me. She’s a thorn in my side and I’m going to have to deal with her the hard way.
“So, what’s the plan?” Spencer asks as he pours me another two fingers of whiskey.
“Not sure. I either need to work with our marketing team to come up with some way to convert the neighborhood into loving us more, or I need to find something that will make her cave,” I contemplate aloud.
“Well, cheers to taking down the competition,” Spencer says as he clinks his glass against mine.
“I have this sneaking suspicion she is going to be the death of me,” I mutter remembering how she brushed that red hair out of her face when she was trying to put me in my place. The fact that I find her attractive only makes me angrier. It’s like her beauty is mocking me, trying to play on my past playboy ways. I’m not that person any longer and I will prove it one way or another.
“How is it going over there?” Spencer asks as he adjusts his glasses and leans back against his counter. I look around his kitchen. It is so Spencer. Everything is black and white and clean. There’s not a single thing out on the counter aside from the glasses and whiskey bottle. I, on the other hand, have all my small appliances sitting out on mine and likely day-old glasses and plates in my sink. I gave my housekeeper the week off and I’m regretting not taking her up on the offer to get her fill-in to come by and clean for me.
“It’s not going. I’m going to have to crack some skulls. There was zero work happening when I went over yesterday. I think Jason has all his subs over at a worksite downtown. Things will be changing this week or his ass is getting fired,” I grumble.
“That’s the spirit. I’d also encourage you to go talk with Georgia. She can start work on a marketing plan now to counteract what is happening. I know she already had some things planned but she should know that our competition is going to be a pain for us,” Spencer points out. He’s right. Damn, this is tough. I’ve got so many teams to manage. I finish my drink and hop off the stool I’m sitting on as I grab my coat from Spencer’s hall closet.
“I got stuff to do. We’re still going to the lake this weekend, yeah?” I ask, changing the topic because a weekend away at the lake seems like a safer thing to fixate on than my gorgeous rival.
He nods. “Yeah. I had the staff prep the house for winter. We’re supposed to start getting some weather,” he says.
“Great. See you later,” I say as I head downstairs while deep in thought. Maybe I should talk to Al. I need to get more intel on Camryn Tanner. I’ve searched her up online. She’s two years younger than me. She’s from the area, although she apparently spent some of her childhood living in a different city. She’s got one older brother. Her parents are still together and she has lots of photos with some guy name Drew Whiteford. She studied culinary arts in college. And she worked at a few restaurants before landing a job at the café she now owns. The café has some great reviews.
Nothing stands out that feels like a chink in her armor. But that isn’t stopping me from looking for that one small thing that can help me bring her down. Everyone has a price, some people just need to be nudged in order to accept it. And that stubborn woman definitely seems like the type that needs a nudge.
“Have you considered sponsoring a local bakery yet for this year’s City Bake-Off competition?” Dalton asks.
We’re sitting in our conference room going over upcoming items. Until I officially joined my brothers and father several years ago at the helm of our company, I didn’t even know they had weekly meetings. Shit, there was a lot that I didn’t know.
“No,” Spencer states. “I wish we could enter it.”
My father sighs. “The competition isn’t about giant companies, Spence. It’s a chance to advertise for us. But we have to sponsor a contestant. Bridget has already reached out to inquire about it. It’ll be televised again this year, so there are commercial spots. Our marketing team is keen on us working with a local bakery. Any ideas?”
My father looks around the table. Georgia, our marketing lead, leans forward.
“What about that little bakery by the site for the new store?” she asks.
Everyone’s heads turn to me. “Cam’s?” I ask as I feel the color draining from my face. She has to be kidding me. I don’t want to work with Cam. I don’t want to be anywhere near her. I need to keep her far away, not closer. Although, I know I should keep my enemies close. But I’m not about to take my own advice.
“Yeah, Fletch. How about Cam’s?” Dalton asks, that patented smirk fighting to emerge. God, my brother is such an ass.
Georgia looks between us with a raised eyebrow. “You know what they say, right?” Everyone glances her way. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” Of course, she’d fucking say that.
“But why would we want to promote a competitor?” I ask, questioning her sanity.
“Because, our standard sponsorship contract has always included a provision that gives us final say in the company’s decisions per the competition,” she says nonchalantly as if I’m a giant idiot.
“And?” I ask. “Who cares if we tell her to make cupcakes instead of cookies for the final round?”
She smirks. “You’re missing the trees through the forest. We can sabotage her if we want. We could have her make something horrible. Or change something at the last minute. It airs on television. The judges all say it’s no good and voilà. Competition gone.”
I lean back in my chair. Well, shit. Georgia raises an excellent point.
