The Takeover (The Miles High Club #2)(46)

“Yep.” He smiles proudly. “Tristan Miles is my new boss.”

My eyes widen in horror. “What? No,” I snap. “You can’t work with him.” I throw the next towel on the pile with force. “Forget it.”

“Mom, they’re the best media company in the world. It’s a big deal for me to get this. They had over four thousand applicants.”

“You tried to shove underpants in his mouth, Fletcher,” I cry. “How can you walk into that office and not be ashamed of yourself?”

“It’s okay. I apologized, remember?”

“No, it’s not okay. It will never be okay. It’s the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever witnessed. You can’t work there; I forbid it.”

Fletcher’s a firecracker. I don’t want him embarrassing me further. I get a vision of him losing his temper at work, and I shiver in mortification. This is my worst nightmare.

“I am,” he snaps. “You can’t stop me.”

“I can and I will,” I cry.

“I want to learn from the best. I want to run Anderson Media one day; they can teach me how.”

“All they are going to teach you, Fletcher, is how to be ruthless.”

“And that’s exactly what I want to learn.”

I glare at him. “You call Tristan Miles back and tell him to stick his job where the sun doesn’t shine.” I’m so angry with that man for going behind my back on this that I can’t even stand it.

He should have called me to tell me about the interview.

Ever since he met my kids, I haven’t heard from him. Not that I wanted to, but anyway, it’s the principle of the situation. And now, for him to not call me but to offer my son a job as some kind of poor excuse for him being a wimp who hates kids? He was so hot for me and came to my house, and after one meeting with my children . . . boom. Cold as ice.

I should have known to expect it—actually, who am I kidding? I did.

The beautiful man I met in France isn’t the cold man who lives in New York. They are worlds apart. The man in France I adore; the man in New York I despise.

I don’t want him near Fletcher, and I most definitely don’t want Fletcher to learn business ethics from him.

The notion is preposterous.

I fold my towels with force. I don’t care about Tristan Miles anyway. It’s not like I wanted anything, but he definitely put a dent in my ego. I know he’s brilliant, and I know that Wade would be supporting this. But Tristan Miles is cold and calculating in the business world. I don’t want Fletcher’s first position to be with him. He’s so impressionable, and I don’t want him thinking that the cutthroat Miles Media’s focus is normal. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

“I start on Monday,” Fletcher snaps.

“Over my dead body.”





Chapter 11

I straighten Fletcher’s tie. “Now remember, ask for help if you don’t know what to do.”

“Yes, Mom.”

I dust his shoulders off. After a weekend of tantrums and tears, I have conceded. Fletcher is starting work with Tristan this morning, and I have never felt so sick in my life. “And make sure you drink lots of water. If you get dehydrated, you won’t be able to concentrate.”

He rolls his eyes.

“Now, I’ve packed you a lunch. Don’t get into the habit of buying it. You will waste a fortune.”

“Mom.” Fletcher gives a subtle shake of his head.

“Because . . . you know? What you start doing in this first job will lay the foundation for your entire working career. I want you to build good habits. This is an opportunity to learn, Fletch. Watch and learn, but always remember that you are an Anderson.” I pull my fingers through his hair.

He smiles down at me. “I will.”

“Being smart in business doesn’t mean you have to be cutthroat,” I remind him.

“I know; we talked about this.” He sighs.

“Your father was such a good man, Fletch, with the highest of morals.”

He smiles broadly.

It’s my greatest fear that Tristan is going to rub off on this young and impressionable boy. My eyes fill with tears at the mere prospect.

“Mom. Stop.”

I put my hands over my mouth as I stare up at my handsome son. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m just so nervous for you.”

“Why?”

“Because this is a big deal, and I don’t want you to mess it up.”

“Mom.” He sighs. “I stuffed underpants in the boss’s mouth before I even got the job. I’m pretty sure I’ve already messed it up as much as physically possible.”

I hold my forehead as I stare at him. “God, please don’t remind me. That will forever be the most mortifying moment of my life.” I go back to fiddling with his tie to distract myself.

“Worked out.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

“Well, he never came back.” He smirks.

“We were just friends, Fletcher. He was never coming back anyway . . . long before you did that. Don’t flatter yourself. If he and I were actually a thing, do you really think that would deter him?”

“Hmm.” He shrugs, not believing me.