Test Drive (The Bachelor #1) (5 page)

"Yeah. The meeting itself went great if you discount the total disrespect when it comes to his treatment of me. Maybe if I quit and become a client we can have a good relationship again." Wringing my hands together and the pace at which I was stalking across the room showed my anger, which on a normal day I would prefer to do in private. "I’m sorry, Beth. He just gets under my skin." I forced myself to sit in my chair and quickly scrubbed my hands over my face.

"Hey, you don’t have to apologize to me. I know things are strained between you guys, but it’ll get better. Just hang in there." The lopsided innocent smile she shot me was reassuring. Hell, she knew him better than I did. I was determined to end this streak of letting people down, including myself. I was—
am
—better than that.

When I opened my eyes, she’d already disappeared out of the office before I had a chance to thank her. I massaged the sides of my throbbing temples and turned my chair around to stare out of the window. A plane was boarding a few runways over. I watched as they shoved bag after bag into the storage area. So many suitcases for two people I had to wonder how long they intended to be gone. When the plane’s doors shut and the plane began to move, I had to look away. The takeoff was always my worst fear. The odds of a crash were so much more likely to happen on takeoff or landing.

I heard the door click open, and I turned just in time to see Beth returning with a cup of coffee. "You like it black, right?" She sat the mug down on my desk and curiosity got the best of me.

"Yeah, how did you know?"

"Well, that’s how your father likes it. You are more alike than you think, ya know?"

"I doubt that," I muttered. "But thanks for the coffee and the pep talk."

She nodded and then disappeared again.
Sweet girl. No wonder why my father likes her.

I left before my father returned that evening, and I fully expected to pass him somewhere in the house. My mother had made chicken potpie for dinner, and I scooped out a large slice before retreating to my room for the evening. Beer and chicken potpie.
What a meal!

Checking my messages, I had several texts from Jenna telling me "to get ready" and that she was "so excited to see me again."
Me too!
Conversations with Claire and Victoria had continued. Victoria seemed very down to earth and dedicated. I could use that. While Claire had a great work ethic and the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, right?

A few new girls had messaged me, but I quickly ignored them as the words
princess
and
diva
were mentioned in their profile a few
hundred
times.
No, thanks
.

"Andrew, can I come in?" The quiet voice was easily recognized as my mother.

"Sure," I said, less than enthusiastic about the Band-Aid she was getting ready to put on my father-son relationship issues.

"Son, look at this room. It looks like a dorm room in here."

"Well, I have been busy lately. I haven’t had time to do my laundry in a while."

"Yes, I see and by a while you mean like months, right?" She smirked as I turned my attention from my computer screen to her gleaming blue eyes.

"Why don’t we skip the pleasantries and you tell me why you are really here?" I raised my eyebrows looking past the sly smile on her face.

"Whatever do you mean, Andrew? Are you referring to the way you embarrassed your father at the meeting today?" She crossed her arms with concern written on her face.

"Is that what he told you? That lying . . .” Shaking my head fiercely as the list of names rolled through my head.

Her finger pointed directly at me as she warned, "Watch it, mister. I am just here to get to the bottom of all this hostility between you two. You two are family and you have got to get past all of this, especially if you are going to work together."

"I put forth the initiative to start attending the meetings as a show of faith that I was serious about the company. I have taken on several new projects, and I would like to think that I was very helpful in the meetings. Unlike him. He had the nerve to snicker when the client paid me a compliment. So if anyone was embarrassing it was
him."
Huffing, I went back to my computer screen and tried to focus on anything but the disapproving frown on my mother’s face.

"I see." She walked back to the door and opened it slowly. "Well, I am sorry you had to deal with that. Just give him some time. He will come around," She said the words over her shoulder as she exited the room. I hated the position it put her in. A woman shouldn’t have to choose between her son and her husband, but how dare he put this all on me. Sleep. That’s what I needed. This long work week had been trying. I had other things to worry about than the approval of an old angry man.

As I lay in bed on top of the black satin sheets, I thought,
Surely tomorrow will be better.
My date with Claire was a definite pick me up, and the thought of being busy all weekend was an even bigger bonus as it would keep me out of the house and away from him.

I returned to work the next morning and a steaming cup of black coffee sat on my desk next to a stress ball.
Beth!

By lunchtime, I had met with all the vendors, and I had spent the better part of the afternoon preparing the report for the board meeting. This was the first time since I graduated that I had actually done something I could be proud of. I regretted slacking for the last few years. I was a natural in the business field.

This morning I had received a strange new message from a girl named Lola. I didn't remember seeing her, and upon reading her profile, I was . . . disturbed. She was very into heavy metal and the color black. She put in her profile that she liked going to raves and "rocking out." I was impressed with her love of poetry, which I didn't share as an interest, but the way she was able to respond to the questions using the poetry was intriguing. When asked what kind of man she wanted, she responded with, "The type of man with an open mind, a heart of steel, and knows how to unwind!"

Weird, right? Kind of cool but still weird. Her bleached blonde hair was striped with black, and her dark brown eyes stared straight through you. However, she was wearing a corset type top that was insanely hot. I argued with myself about whether or not we could make this work. I couldn't imagine my parents’ faces when they met her, but maybe the profile wasn't really representing her appearance.
Catfish?
There was photo shop and all kinds of ways to change a picture. The message was more of a flyer for a rave party next Thursday night at an abandoned warehouse downtown that had been converted to a club of sorts. I had heard of it but never got the courage to go, and Camille wouldn't have been caught dead at a place like that.

I had responded to her message saying I'd be there and asked how I would find her. I was still feeling a bit off about her, but who knew, maybe she'd steal my heart with one of her poems. Okay maybe not, but I had no doubt it would be an experience I wouldn't forget.

THIS IDEA OF MEETING
these girls whenever they messaged me was starting to get out of hand. I had dates coming out of my ears and with my job bearing down on me, I was busy. Maybe too busy. Jenna had requested my appearance Saturday morning at ten and said we would be "busy" most of the day. I was totally scared of what that might mean. Hell, she'd probably have me dropping from a cliff or something.

Claire’s last message said, "I know we live far apart so can we meet at the mall downtown and drive from there? I was thinking around eight?"
Sweet.

And then there was Victoria, she had not set up a date, but we had messaged a few times a day about random stuff like what my thoughts on kids were and what kind of movies I liked. I figured that she hadn't had time to meet me with her two job work schedule during the day, and I respected her not wanting to meet me with a kid around.

"Mr. Sloane, your father would like to meet with you." Beth had once again poked her head in without me noticing.

"Sure thing," I said, sliding back from my desk. "And thanks for the coffee and this," I said holding up the stress ball. Beth smiled and left. Usually she just turned and left. I wondered if my new project was earning me some kind of respect in the company or maybe it was our mutual commiseration about dealing with my father. I made a mental note to talk to her later about some of my ideas. I knew she was my father's "right hand man" and her input would be helpful, and I didn’t happen to mind her smile to brighten my day.

I entered my father's office with my hands shoved in my pockets. "Yes, father, you wanted to see me."

He was staring out the window watching a plane take off from our private runway. He turned around, greeting me with a smile. "Son, I have been hearing good things about your evaluations. I hope you will be ready to present your results at the meeting on Tuesday." I had not seen him smile for anyone except my mother in a long time. I hadn't realized how much his approval meant since I graduated high school and didn't become a pilot or a meteorologist, even though I was pretty sure my mother had threatened him to stop fighting with me.

"Uh yeah, I am finishing up the proposal, and the last vendor is coming this afternoon. The project will be ready for approval Tuesday."

"Marvelous! Your mother will be attending the meeting as well. She has also requested you come to lunch on Sunday, if you are available?"

I agreed. Mom's Sunday lunches were always good, and it had been a while since we had done anything as a family. I knew being the only child and not wanting to follow in the family footsteps was disappointing enough for my father.

I had to rush out to meet the vendor about a new badge system. Several of the employees had complained that our security system was outdated. Right now they had to access a computer at the front entrance to type in their credentials and clock in to get in or out. I agreed that was a bit much especially if you were running low on time or your hands were full. This person had offered several solutions including an eye scanner, an encrypted badge, and a voice recognition system. I had him price the first two only because he had advised the voice system could be an issue if there was background noise, like a plane taking off for instance.

At five o’clock sharp I headed out the door. I was excited to meet Claire. But as I pulled into my driveway my phone went off. A text message came through from Claire. It read, "Hey Drew! It’s Claire. I am sorry, but I got called in to work tonight. I'm not bailing, but it might be a little later than eight. Do you think you could meet me here at the hotel around nine? I’ll understand if you can't, just let me know."

I told her that would be fine. I did wonder how it would work if we were together? Would she be working all the time; all night or all weekend? Would we have to work around her schedule more often than not?

I pulled my car up to the front entrance of the Raleigh Manor Inn a few hours later. The motor rumbled noisily under the covered drop off area, and the valet who didn't look a day over eighteen ran up to take the wheel. "Oh man, this is a nice ride!"

I remembered feeling that same way when I saw it for sale on the side of the road about five years ago. I had paid cash for it that day, and it had been roaring like a lion ever since. "Yeah kid, just take care of it!"

"No problem, sir." I heard the door shut and the engine boom as he put it into gear.

I checked the collar on my black polo shirt and smoothed my hair down one last time before I entered the large glass entryway. A line of people waiting to be seated stretched all the way to the door. I quickly bypassed the line not wanting to be late meeting Claire. I wasn’t after all waiting to be seated. I crossed the room to the double doors leading into the dining room where I waited for a few moments before seeing a tall, thin man wearing a tailored black suit approaching me. He quietly said, "Can I help you, sir?"

"Yes, I am here to see Claire. She's expecting me."

"Right this way." The elderly man seemed tired beyond his years. He walked with a slight limp in his left foot. Leading me through the double doors and into the kitchen, he directed me to sit at a side table to wait. I figured it was used as a break table for the kitchen staff.

The kitchen smelled amazing. I could smell the garlic and the wine simmering. Even the steam from the vegetables permeated the room. There were trays of food waiting on a heated counter to be picked up by the waiters sprinting to and from the room. The kitchen was noisy. The pots and pans clanked together, and I could hear a wire whisk briskly moving in a metal bowl. I hadn't seen anyone come out of the kitchen, but the old waiter had poked his head in and motioned for someone to let them know I was here. A young female cook came out carrying a steaming plate of mussels and a glass of white wine.

"Compliments of the chef," she said with a wink. I thanked her, and she scurried off into the kitchen. I could hear her squealing inside and that boosted my confidence a little. Hopefully Claire was that excited to see me.