Chapter Seven
Drew proceeded straight for the Drake building. Face-to-face confrontations always worked best with his father. The back elevators helped him avoid the walk of shame in his hiking clothes. A few whispers circulated as he ducked through the seventh-floor cubicle maze. He paused when he reached the assistant’s desk. Dark-haired Maura studied her screen with a frown.
“Hey, Mo. Is he in?”
The sophisticated assistant slowly raised her head, as if she’d been deep in thought. Her mouth dropped open wide when her gaze finally met his.
Damn, should’ve changed. Pressing his lips, he rocked back on his heels, his cheeks aflame as he waited for her answer.
“Andy?” she whispered. “What the hell?”
Running a hand through his hair revealed his true mistake. No glasses, no beard, and the crazy blond hair. He’d planned to display his new style paired with a tailored Brooks Brother’s suit.
Oops.
Dipping his head, he turned his face aside to hide his embarrassment. “Yeah, it’s me. What do you think?” He shrugged, hating the spectacle he was making.
“Damn, Andy.” She covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes glittering with mischief. “You look about five years younger. What’s going on?” She leaned forward, her bottom lip caught in her teeth. Maura, queen of office affairs, eyed him as if he were lunch.
“Trying something new.” He waved her comments away, but her stare slowly became more and more predatory. Her eyes narrowed to slits as a hungry expression crossed her face.
“It looks good. Really good,” she purred, putting her fist under her chin. Her raking gaze left him feeling raw and exposed. A light sweat broke out over his skin. His father’s superhot secretary practically molested him with her eyeballs. Holy shit. He should’ve changed the way he dressed years ago.
Rubbing the back of his neck, he said, “Yeah? Thanks.” She stared at him like a piece of meat, a wicked smile forming. Swallowing hard, he cleared the lump in his throat. “Is my dad in?”
Blinking rapidly, Maura returned to herself. She straightened in her seat, touching her hair. “What? Oh. Yes, go right in.”
Drew sighed with relief, glad the awkward ended. “Uh, thanks.” He curved around her desk in a wide berth. Entering his father’s office with a quick rap on the door, he glanced back to see Maura streaking from her desk. There goes the gossip train. Well, fuck.
“Andrew?” Spencer Drake rose from his desk, stretching up like a bear on two legs. His perfectly tailored Gucci suit moved with him, not a wrinkle in sight. The suit, paired with his athletic frame, crew cut, and silver goatee, drew a picture of a formidable man.
“Hey, Dad. How’s it going?” Drew lingered by the door, assuming a pose of nonchalance. “Sorry I missed today. I took a three-day weekend.”
“What the hell is this?” Spencer remarked. Drew thought of his father by his first name when he cloaked himself in the role of dutiful accountant rather than adoring son. Strolling out from behind the desk, he motioned up and down at Drew. “Who are you and where is my son?”
“Dad…”
“We are a business, Andrew. Explain yourself.” He sat on the edge of the desk, his arms crossed, brow furrowed, a look Drew knew well.
“I met a woman.”
Throwing his hands up, Dad paced back and forth behind the desk. “You couldn’t wait? I’ve been hoping for years to hear those words, and you choose now? Just when the conference center is getting off the ground? It’s vital you’re in the office. Everyday. You can’t be wandering off with some chickie”—he held a hand out to Drew, indicating the hiking outfit—“doing who knows what.”
Drew resisted grinding his teeth. “Dad, I’ve been in the office, day after day, night after night for months, helping you get the project off the ground. I have been your gofer, your mail-boy, your accountant, your punching bag, and your confidant. I wanted a day. One day.” He opted not to mention the week of vacation he considered for more time with Terese.
Spencer raised his eyebrows. “The construction is nearly complete. George is interviewing fifty people a day to fill the positions. We’re starting from scratch, and you should be here—helping.”
Not wanting to blast his father, Drew bit his lip. Sometimes his old man forgot Drew’s age and the fact that a twenty-seven-year-old man needed a life outside his job. He’d given his father his all, long before he graduated from college, working after school and weekends to help make his dad’s dream a reality.
When the company transitioned from an architectural firm into a construction corporation complete with a marketing department, HR resources, public relations people, and more, his father assumed everyone in his company was as committed as he. Drew had been obsessed as well, but to a point. Since he decided to seriously pursue Terese, work seemed much less important.
“I don’t have to remind you, Dad, my degree’s in business management and accounting. Not human resources. I’m the numbers guy. The numbers are done. Construction is practically done, my part finished. And I needed one day.”
His father narrowed his eyes. A playful smile appeared on his lips, as he gestured at Drew’s hair. “With a ’do like that, I’d bet you planned more than a day.” He chuckled. Typical Dad, blowing hard, then folding like a teddy-bear. “So this girl…” He plopped into his chair.
“Dad…” Sighing with disgust, Drew crossed the room and sank into one of the leather chairs. “Do I ever tell you about my dates?”
“No, but there aren’t many.”
Drew lobbed a pillow at him.
Spencer’s laughter filled the room. He sat back in his chair and put his feet up on the desk. “How about Joan from IT…?”
Drew rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that one worked out so well. The most boring three months of my life.”
“Yes, but you got laid, and really, in your twenties, that’s what’s important.” They both snickered. “What about the red-head bombshell from accounting? What’s her name? Lizette?” Dad stood, a gleam in his eye.
“Yeah. She’s trouble.” Drew chuckled. “That chick flirted with the entire department. Worse than Maura.”
Spencer crossed the room and sat down next to him. “Maura? Does Maura flirt?” His brow furrowed. He wasn’t that clueless, was he?
Drew shrugged. “Ah, never mind. Anyway, Lizette.” He changed the subject quickly. If his father never noticed Maura flirting with him for the past fifteen years, Drew didn’t want to clue him in now. Maura as a stepmom? No thank you.
“The accountant.”
“She was a temp, definitely not a CPA. And she acted kinda fishy. Thank God, she quit months ago. Our numbers have never been better.”
Spencer crossed his legs. “Do you think we need to be concerned?”
Drew raised and dropped one shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe. She loved distracting the guys, sitting on their desks, getting them to take her to lunch. I think she dated the whole department.”
“But not you?” Spencer wiggled his eyebrows.
Drew held up a hand. “Not on your life, Dad.” They laughed, the air much less tense, and thankfully his dad didn’t ask about Lizette again.
At least the old man seemed interested in his world. Drake Industries had been one big stress ball for the past seven years. His dad deserved a break, as much as Drew. Hell, the whole senior staff could use a weekend in Tijuana.
Drew held out his hands. “I’ll be in tomorrow at the crack of eight thirty. I promise.”
“She nice?”
“Who? Lizette?”
Spencer rolled his eyes. “No, stupid. The girl important enough to turn your hair that color. She hot?”
“Dad…”
He leaned forward. “Did you get laid?”
Throwing his hands up, Drew said, “Okay, enough. She’s amazing. I really like her. And yes, she is worth the haircut.”
“All right then.” Spencer settled back, his hand folded in his lap. “But I need you here. Staffing is a priority, and George is up to his armpits with interviews. His team bailed. Ned’s back is acting up, and Sarah’s on bedrest for the rest of her pregnancy.”
“They okay?” Drew asked hesitantly. His father’s strategy materialized—pouring on the guilt before transferring him again. All this shuffling tired him out.
“Yeah, both will be fine. Of course, without them, George is in a pickle. He’s filling some of the big positions.” Spencer paused, and Drew waited for the ax to fall. “Help him, son.”
Snick, the killing blow.
Drew’s body slumped as his father’s words pierced him. So much for playing hooky all week to convince the lovely Terese they were meant for each other. So much for taking a break from twelve-hour days. His ulcer pulsed.
“Dad…” he started, knowing it was futile. Like father, like son, and he and Spencer were mirrors. If a task required completion, he’d finish it. Every time. He knew it and so did his father. “So asking for tomorrow off is out, then.” A statement, not a question.
“Once we get everyone in place and training begins, you can have a whole month off. Hell, I’ll even send you and your girl to Hawaii or Fiji or wherever. One more favor, son. One more time.”
Drew rolled his head back on the seat and stared at the ceiling. Someday he’d learn to say no to his father. And to his own ambition. “Sure, Dad.”
Spencer picked up a pillow and lightly smacked Drew in the face. “And can you do something about the hair?”