Page 4 of Twins with Daddy’s Bestie

There's a full bar that we hire bartenders to staff for our weekly company happy hour on Friday, and today, I'm interviewing for a private chef to cook for them.

Tyler and I walk into my office, closing the glass door behind us as we take a seat at my desk. Behind me is a beautiful view of the Los Angeles skyline that I stop to admire for a moment.

Tyler takes a seat across from me at the desk and crosses his legs casually.

“How's the presentation for my dad going?” I ask when I turn to him.

“All finished. He's going to want to see what we're investing in, so I've put together a portfolio of the companies you've worked with, short-listing the most promising ones,” Tyler says, plopping a folder on the desk for me to review. I pick it up and flip through, nodding as I admire how detailed and concise the information is.

“This is perfect,” I say, looking at him approvingly. Tyler smiles and nods, leaning back in the chair. “He's due any minute now, and there’s no way he rejects our offer.”

“I’m thinking sushi to celebrate?” Tyler asks excitedly.

I shake my head and sigh. The idea of raw fish in rice has never appealed to me. “Get whatever you and the rest of the staff want. I'll just have a salad.”

He laughs, and I know what's on his mind. While most people with wealth and status like me have diverse appetites and prefer the finer things like caviar and wild scallops, I can't stomach them.

Why should I spend ten times the money on food I don't like?

I'm more than fine eating a chicken Caesar salad than a trendy kale grain bowl filled with vegetables I hate.

“Hopefully this chef interview goes well, and I can convince them to sneak some greens into your food,” Tyler jokes, looking at his watch.

I spot my dad walking toward the office through the glass walls and lose track of the thought. Tyler and I stand and walk toward the door to meet him halfway.

My dad is one of my best friends. I'm still close with my college roommate, Leonard, but my dad is someone I can talk to about anything. He's worked his entire life to build the empire that I have benefitted from so much. I want to prove to him that even with the safety net his wealth provides, I can stand on my own.

That's why I wanted to have this meeting, to prove to him that he should invest in the firm because he believes in it, not because of our family ties.

“Son,” he greets me, shaking my hand firmly. There's no mirth in his face, and without asking, I know this has something to do with the articles about last night.

We go back into my office, and I take a seat at the desk, but he doesn't sit right away. He stands at the window and looks out at the city with his arms behind his back, taking a deep breath before turning.

“While I can acknowledge that you've built a strong business, I’m not sure I can invest at this time,” he says before even hearing my pitch.

“Are you sure? Tyler and I have put together a report showing how your investment is expected to increase profits by the fourth quarter this year,” I say, standing to join him at the window. His eyes darken as he watches me. My heart sinks, and I can't bear the way he's staring.

“Are you aware of what the media is saying about you?” His voice is low and emotionless. He's trying to hide it, but I know he's disappointed. I've had plenty of one-night stands and tumultuous flings with people in the limelight, so I'm no stranger to this. If anything, this publicity will bring more eyes to my business to see the good we're doing. But he doesn't see it that way.

“I've seen plenty of articles. They're sensationalized. It was a weird situation, and nothing like that has ever happened. It definitely won't happen again,” I argue. His disappointment in my actions is difficult to swallow.

“You have to understand that I can't take a risk in this company when you're still exhibiting signs of being immature,” my dad says, sighing and looking away. His words sting more than I would like. “Maybe later down the line if this business seems viable, that can change. But for now, I'll pass on this opportunity.”

I don't know what bothers me more, the fact that he doesn't trust me as a businessman or the fact that he's talking to me as if I'm a random person asking him to invest. I wanted him to invest in my company because he believes in it. He doesn't, but he doesn't need to act so coldly.

“There's nothing I can do to change your mind, Dad?” I stare at him as he continues to look away.

He shakes his head and looks at me with an apologetic smile, finally showing me some semblance of emotion. “Not right now. I've made up my mind, Drake. By the looks of it, you don't need my money, anyway.”

It's true. My business is doing well and is promising to grow, but his support means more to me than he can imagine.

“Thanks for coming anyway.” I pat him on the back before he makes for the door to leave. We say our goodbyes, and I sit in my chair, turning away from the glass walls so none of my employees see my disappointment.

This is a disaster. If last night hadn’t happened, my father would have invested in my company today. It would have helped the company immensely, and I also would have been able to earn his respect in a way I've been working toward my whole life.

Last night had gone smoothly for me until the baker showed up. Rita and I had an amazing time, and no one would have snapped pictures of me in a towel and sent them to the tabloids if it hadn't been for her interruption.

My blood boils thinking about how one minor inconvenience so easily ruined my plans. All the warm feelings I had about the woman last night are gone now. I have half a mind to find her just to let her know how difficult she's made my life, though I'm sure she's already seen pictures of me climbing a fence in a towel.