The Rules (24 page)

Almost four months had already passed since he last saw her, yet she continued to invade his thoughts. It should be easy enough not to think about her since he spent over thirty years of his life not knowing her, hence not thinking about her. If only he could go back to that time and empty his mind of every moment they spent together, every sexy smile she sent his way, every touch of her soft hands.

Sometimes, he could block her out—at least during the day—when he stayed busy learning about Johnson Brewing Company. At promotional and networking events he attended with the sales team, she occasionally left his mind. But nighttime was nearly impossible to avoid thoughts of Terri. At night his subconscious wrested away control and placed her prominently in the foreground of his head.

He rubbed a hand over his semi-erect penis and groaned.

Since he’d decided to stay in Seattle, he bought the house he’d been renting and expelled his entourage from the premises with one way tickets to their destination of choice. Now that he had a permanent residence, he needed a woman in his life. Until then, he should get ready for work. A few months ago, he officially went on payroll and became a productive member of the team, and today was a big day.

He rolled off the bed, thinking about the morning meeting, nervous but excited about the possible outcome. Nine months ago he’d known practically nothing about Johnson Enterprises, but now, he better understood the ins and outs of the beer making and restaurant industries and the role the family business played in those markets. Recently, he pitched an idea to Trenton first and then approached Xavier and Ivy. The last person to convince was Cyrus.

Gavin dressed quickly and grabbed a travel mug of coffee on his way out the door, calling a goodbye to his housekeeper, Edie.

Soon, he was at the company headquarters and seated in a meeting with his siblings. The nervous excitement tightened in his gut, but knowing his siblings backed the idea made him confident. He sat up straight, seated across from Ivy. To his left sat Cyrus, and across from him Xavier.

Trenton took the floor to go through his presentation, a very basic one using an easel and bright graphics on sturdy paper. Each time he came to a new point, he lifted off a sheet to reveal the details.

Gavin’s eyes made the rounds of the table, and he couldn’t help but smile. His mother was right. Father would be proud if he saw them today, and he wanted to honor his father’s memory and make him proud.

“In conclusion,” Trenton said, “customers want to do business with a person. Talk to a person. Social media has allowed them insight into the lives of people they do business with.” He lifted off one of the sheets and pointed to the numbers on the graph. “Gavin has millions of followers on Instagram and Twitter, and we need to take advantage of the opportunity those ‘fans’ represent. What we need to do is create a brand strategy around him by playing up the action and adventure angles of his life. We make
him
representative of our beer and incorporate
him
as part of our advertising campaign.”

Cyrus rubbed his jaw. “The idea worked for Jim Koch at Samuel Adams. Doesn’t mean it’ll work for us.”

“Not only Jim Koch. When you think about The Most Interesting Man in the World, what immediately comes to mind?” Trenton looked around the table, but didn’t wait for the answer. “Dos Equis. Dos Equis increased sales by more than twenty percent when they launched that campaign.”

Ivy leaned forward and directed her comment to Cyrus. “It’s not just beer. Consumers like being able to identify with a specific figure that represents a brand. The Marlboro Man and the Energizer Bunny, all figures who, the minute you see them, bring the brand to life.”

Trenton rested his palms on the table. “What we plan to do, is use the same strategy to launch a brand for Full Moon beer. Gavin’s social media accounts will become less personal and more business and we’ll merge them with our corporate accounts. By including the personal component, we offer customers that feeling of familiarity that’s so important to establishing a solid connection and separating us from the other beer companies out there.”

Unconvinced, Cyrus shook his head. “What makes you think this is going to work for us? We’ve managed to do very well so far by simply producing good beer—without a mascot.”

“We knew you’d say that, so we ran some tests. Ivy.” Trenton nodded at their sister.

“Trenton prepared a few ads for Twitter and had Gavin tweet them, using geographic targeting to send customers to our restaurants in Baton Rouge. The lines were out the door and one of the restaurants ran out of beer.”

Cyrus’s eyebrows raised. “Ran out of beer?”

“Yes,” Ivy confirmed, her eyes bright with excitement. “Food sales at both locations went through the roof. They had to call in extra wait staff.”

“Xavier,” Trenton said, obviously enjoying the moment by the smug smile on his face.

Xavier slid a few stapled pages across the table to Cyrus. “Over the course of a week, we asked Gavin to tweet about the new vanilla flavored brew that’s popular in California—again, using geographic pinpointing. We had to temporarily increase production at the Portland plant because of the rise in demand.”

Cyrus stroked his jaw, staring down at the numbers. “That’s a notable spike.”

“Exactly.”

“Social media is the new word-of-mouth,” Gavin interjected. “It’s not the only way to spread the word about a product, but it’s a very effective way to do it. We could offer coupons, let customers know about new beer flavors, share videos—the options are limitless.”

Cyrus frowned. “We already have social media accounts to handle those things.”

Trenton sat down. “But the personal touch isn’t there. That’s the difference.”

Xavier folded his hands on the table and went in for the kill. “We’re not suggesting Gavin become our main focus. We’re suggesting he be added to the list of things we’re already doing. If we can effectively use his image, we could end up becoming the number one beer company in the country within the next few years.”

Such a lofty goal caught Cyrus’s attention. He looked around the table at all of them. “Number one,” he repeated in a low voice.

If they became number one in the country, they would achieve the goal their father dreamed of one day accomplishing.

“How much money are we talking about to launch this campaign?” Cyrus asked.

Trenton placed a bound report in front of Cyrus. The eldest flipped the booklet open, scanned the text, and then flipped several pages over to the financial projections.

Time dragged as he punched numbers into the calculator on his phone. Gavin, Trenton, Xavier, and Ivy knew that if anyone could find holes in their idea, Cyrus could. They glanced at each other, waiting for the final verdict.

Ivy pulled her thumb between her teeth. Trenton and Xavier leaned across the table, eyeing Cyrus’s calculations. Gavin tapped his feet.

At last, Cyrus looked up, a competitive gleam in his dark eyes and a slow smile sliding across his face. “Let’s do it.” He leaned forward, and Gavin was struck by how much he looked like their father right then. “Let’s take the number one spot. Let’s show them what Full Moon beer and the Johnson family are made of.”

“Yes!” Trenton pumped his fist.

Ivy clapped her hands and broke into a big grin, and Xavier gave Gavin the thumbs-up sign.

Cyrus turned to Gavin, and for the first time in years, he saw respect in his brother’s eyes.

“Welcome to the family business,” Cyrus said.

****

Today turned out to be the best day Gavin experienced in a long time, but he no longer wore a smile when he caught up with Cyrus outside his office at the end of the day. His wife Daniella, as elegant as ever in a chocolate pantsuit with her long hair cascading over her shoulders, was holding the diaper bag. Cyrus held his son, Michael, in his arms, playfully tweaking the almost-one-year-old’s nose. The little boy wrinkled his nose and laughed happily at the game.

“Hi, Gavin,” Daniella said.

“Hello, Daniella.” He gave his sister-in-law a brief hug.

Cyrus’s questioning eyes met his. “You need something?”

“Do you have a sec? I need to talk to you privately for a moment.”

“Here, let me take him. We’ll meet you down in the car.” Daniella lifted Michael from Cyrus’s arms.

With a pitiful pout, the little boy stretched out his hands to his father and babbled incoherently.

“Don’t be so cranky. Daddy will join us soon,” Daniella cooed, nuzzling her son’s neck.

Both Gavin and Cyrus watched them leave the suite of offices before entering Cyrus’s domain and shutting the door.

“What did you need to talk to me about?” Cyrus studied Gavin with intense, perceptive eyes, a complete one-eighty from the soft, affectionate gaze he’d bestowed on his son.

“I need your guy to look into something for me.”

“What?” Cyrus asked, folding his arms.

“A case that involved Terri.”

Cyrus’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You’ve been done with her for months.”

Gavin ran a hand down the back of his head. “Yeah, I know, but I haven’t been able to forget something she said.”

“What did she say?”

“‘You don’t know the whole story,’” he answered.

Unable to help himself, Gavin had done some preliminary digging on his own, but the bits and pieces he managed to put together didn’t give him the entire picture. On the one hand, it seemed as if Terri was a willing participant in her boyfriend’s criminal activities and turned on him solely for the opportunity to get immunity. On the other, he recalled her panic the night they played with the cucumber and the pained expression in her eyes when she admitted,
He hurt me. A lot
.

“I need him to pull together anything he can find about the Talon Cyrenci case in Georgia. Court transcripts, government files, photos, and anything else he can get his hands on.”

Maybe there was more to the story. Maybe he was looking for excuses to accept her. Whatever the case, he had to know the whole truth.

Cyrus went around the desk and unlocked the top drawer. He removed a card, locked the desk, and handed the card to Gavin. “I’ll let you handle it,” he said.

There was only a first name and number on the card.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Cyrus said.

Gavin swallowed, worried he may find more than he wanted to know but ready to take the plunge. “Thanks.”

****

Gavin pulled up outside Aldi’s Market. He left his tie and jacket in the car and strolled into the specialty store. In the deli section, a platter of antipasti awaited with his name on it. Aldi, a French Moroccan and the owner, was working behind the counter.

“Bonsoir, Aldi. How’s it going?”

“Bonsoir, Gavin, how are you?”

“Never been better, and looking forward to the platter you have prepared for me.”

“Ah, yes. I’ll be right back.” Aldi hurried to the back and returned with a platter that made Gavin’s mouth water. It contained artichoke hearts, olives, thinly sliced salami, marinated tomatoes, pickles, and two different types of cheeses.

“This looks great. I’ve got a date with this late night snack and a movie tonight.”

“No pretty lady for you?”

“Not tonight, my friend.” He’d thought about going out but changed his mind at the last minute. Gavin handed over the cash and Aldi gave him his change. “Later.”

Aldi wished him a good night, and Gavin headed toward the front of the store. Walking down the aisle, he side-stepped a woman and her small brood of three as they pushed a cart filled with groceries. He smiled at the little girl, who looked up at him and grinned, and was so distracted that he took three more steps before he saw a very familiar back. One that he could never possibly forget—clothed or unclothed—and his traitorous heart jolted with unexpected joy.

Gavin stopped in the middle of the aisle and watched her. The bright red top she wore was unusually large, with big sleeves that came down to her elbows and reminded him of trumpets. It fell to the middle of her thighs so he couldn’t see her beautiful behind, but he knew it was Terri. She had her hair up in a ponytail that exposed her neck, which he’d know anywhere, even with a blindfold on. He’d kissed it often and listened to the accompanying breathless laughs too many times to count.

Reason returned and consumed the happiness he instinctively felt, replacing it with sadness. Her testimony of what Talon Cyrenci had done to her gutted him. The pain she must have suffered at the hands of such a monster, all because he wanted to keep her in line and made sure she did what he demanded. But Cyrenci underestimated her. She plotted with the Georgia Bureau of Investigations and the local police to bring him down. Almost single-handedly, she toppled his multi-million-dollar criminal enterprise while enduring unspeakable abuse in the process.

He wanted to at least apologize and let her know that he did know the whole story. He was proud of her. She was not only the bravest woman he’d ever met, she was strong enough to have recovered from years of abuse and live a healthy and productive life.

The next thing he knew, he was standing a few feet behind her. “Terri.”