Big Rock(5)

Dad wants to retire and sail around the world with my mom. It’s been his dream, and he finally found the right buyer, someone who gets the refined elegance he’s built, and has the financial profile for the kind of transaction he requires.

Leaving the business to Harper or me was never in the cards. I have zero interest in running an international jewelry chain, and my sister doesn’t either. I’m already doing what I love—running the three Lucky Spot bars in Manhattan with Charlotte. Besides, I made my own mint when I launched Boyfriend Material straight out of college.

The whole premise was simple, but genius.

No dick pics allowed.

Because – wait for it – women don’t like dick pics. At the early stage of dating, there’s basically nothing more aggressive and off-putting than sending a lady you’re interested in a shot of your junk. Doesn’t matter if you’re hung like a horse—that shot will make her cringe. My app offered a haven for women, a promise that they wouldn’t be photographically assaulted by unwelcome cock shots.

The app took off, my investors made major bank, and I cleaned up like the lucky bastard I am.

But for the next hour, while talking to Mr. Offerman, I’m simply a guy who works in the food and beverage business. Game on.





CHAPTER THREE


Dad escorts Harper and me to a big round table, covered in a crisp white tablecloth, in the back of the restaurant.

“Mr. Offerman, I’m delighted to introduce you to my children. This is my daughter Harper, and my son Spencer.”

With dark eyes and jet-black hair, Mr. Offerman is tall and imposing. He’s built like a tree trunk, and he stands ramrod straight. I bet he was military. He has the air of a general.

“Pleasure to meet the two of you,” he says in a deep baritone. Yup, this man gives orders.

We exchange pleasantries and settle in at the table. Once we order, he narrows in on Harper.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. How fantastic that you’re a magician…” As he pumps her with questions, it hits me—Harper’s profession is perfect for his “family-friendly” image. She works kids’ parties, and he’s eating that up. She shows him some of her tricks. She makes his fork disappear, then his napkin, then his water glass.

“Wonderful. I bet it simply mesmerizes all the children. My girls would love that.”

Dude, you have teenagers. I highly doubt they’re keen on sleight of hand.

“I’ll be happy to show them,” Harper says, bestowing her shining smile on Mr. Offerman, winning him over.

“Wonderful. I’d love to set up a dinner for tomorrow night for all of us. With my wife and daughters.”

“I’d love to be there,” Harper says.

He fixes his gaze on me. “And how is Boyfriend Material going?”

Ah, there it is. Clearly he’s done his research. “I hear from the company that bought it that it’s going well. But I’m not involved anymore,” I say, deflecting the question.

“It’s quite a hit, from what I read about it. You seem to know what women want.”

I gulp and hazard a glance at my dad. He has on his plastic smile. He doesn’t want Mr. Offerman going down this road. “All I know, sir, is that you need to treat a woman well, and when the time is right to get down on one knee, you should go for more than one carat from Katharine’s.” I give myself props for the jewelry joke.

He smiles and nods, then clears his throat. “I also have a reporter from Metropolis Life and Times magazine that’s following the sale of the jewelry franchise. Bit of a business feature—bit of a lifestyle piece, too. I hope it’s not too much to ask, but I’d love if we can all agree to focus on the stores over the next few weeks during the transition. Not on matchmaking apps or related matters that the press seems to love. Like dating exploits.” He stops to spread his napkin across his lap. “Do you know what I mean?”

We all know what you mean, man.

My father weighs in. “I couldn’t agree more. There’s no need for the article to be about anything else but jewelry.”

“Good.” Mr. Offerman returns his focus to me, and the inquisition isn’t over. “Your new business is going well?”

“The food and beverage industry is a fantastic one to be in. Charlotte and I started The Lucky Spot three years ago, and it’s going great. Fun place, great reviews, customers are happy.”

He peppers me with more questions about the bar, and I can tell it’s all part of his need to vet me in person. To see if my new business seems as “sleazy” as he thinks my last one was. But I can handle men like him. I didn’t start my own company because I was easily intimidated. I started it because I was f*cking fearless, and I read the market, just like I can read him. I know how to give him what he wants, and I do so with each answer because giving him what he wants is good for my dad.

“What do you enjoy most about it?”

“Working with Charlotte is great,” I say, because how can I go wrong with that answer? “We were pretty much meant to do this together. We see eye to eye on everything.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “That’s fantastic. How long have you—” His question is cut off when the waiter brings our plates, but I’ve got the gist of it. How long have we been friends…