Accidentally Wild: An Accidental Marriage Romance (The Wilder Brothers Book 2) Read online

  “Miss?”

  “Mhm?”

  “There’s no rush, but here’s the check whenever you’re ready. Would you like a to-go box?”

  She pointed to Jessica’s meal and I nodded. The least I could do was take it to her, so she had something to eat for dinner and apologize for pushing my ideals onto her.

  “And a to-go sweet tea as well. Actually, make that two,” I said.

  “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

  The Charleston wind was strong that day and so was the smoke in the air. It seemed as if the entire town had been blanketed in a fog of smoke all damn week. I looked at my watch and saw it was approaching three in the afternoon. The kids would be out of school soon and my day would start.

  Summer was approaching and that was always my busiest time. Unlike most of the youth centers in the state, I kept my doors wide open for full business hours during school breaks. The parents in Charleston did the best they could to provide for their children, so during the summer we ran very cheap, state-funded daycare and summer vacation programs out of our building. I was lucky to have the volunteer help I did from the community to help out coordinating and organizing all the programs we had going throughout the day, but I knew this summer would be tough. I was down four usual individuals that volunteered because they were aging and couldn’t keep up any longer.

  I took out my purse and slid my card into the check billfold. I needed to get to my office before all of the kids descended after school. I had a lot of things that still needed to fall into place before school let out for the summer in two weeks, and it would take a lot of reorganizing to make sure we were in ratio.

  The state required one adult to every twelve children, and right now we wouldn't be at ratio with the number of kids to adults that had signed up.

  I paid for the ticket, gathered all my things, and headed for my car. My first stop was Jessica and Bianca’s apartment. When I got there, I set the tray of food and the sweet tea in front of the door before I knocked, then turned my back to leave. When Jessica got upset, she needed space. I didn’t want her to think I was crowding her, but I did want her to know that she was being thought of. I turned around just in time to see her door open before the elevator doors closed, then I clasped my hands in front of my body and sighed. Time to get to work.

  Twenty minutes later, I walked into my darkened office. I turned on the light and headed straight for the fan. The air conditioning in the building wasn’t working like it needed to, as I was only repairing it as necessary. And I didn’t consider my office space necessary. A box fan in the window did just fine, then I took showers when I got home. I stood in front of the flowing air and groaned at its comfort, trying to buy myself a few more minutes before I looked at the reality in front of me.

  The budget this year was rough. Everything that could have possibly gone wrong went wrong. The plumbing backed up so badly that every single toilet spewed soiled water onto the floors. They had to be snaked and the flooring had to be replaced. The playground equipment needed to be updated and new basketball goals had to be put in on all the courts. The kitchen kept breaking down as well. I could do basic repairs. I’d taught myself over the years to save money. But once the repairs got to a certain point, I had to bring in a professional, which always cost more than I was comfortable paying for.

  What we didn’t raise in the community, the state provided for us. But some months, it still wasn’t enough. Some months I took a cut to my paycheck just to pay down credit card payments on things that snuck up on us. The food for the kids was getting cheaper and cheaper, which meant it was getting more and more unhealthy. And as I sat at my desk and punched in numbers, I felt tears rise to my eyes. Some days I didn’t feel like I was providing the best care I could to the kids of this city.

  I scribbled down numbers and organized receipts. I struggled with the old-as-hell computer, watching as it lagged and rebooted. Lagged and rebooted. Shit. I had to put updated technology on the damn budget.

  That alone would eat up most of what we had for the rest of the year.

  Days like this were days I admired Mr. Wilson for what he did for this community. I could only imagine the monetary sacrifices he made to start this place and to keep it going. I refused to fail him. But as I circled the massive number in front of me in red ink and compared it to the yearly budget we had set forth, I sighed.

  I’d have to take a pay cut of over five thousand for the rest of the year just to make it work.

  THREE

  Everett

  “So exciting. You boys usually do Sunday dinner on your own,” my mother said.

  “Well, sometimes we like to switch things up. You know us,” Cash said.

  “Don’t I know it. Every time I turn around you boys are switching something around with the business. Calling us up at all hours of the night to run another idea by us,” my father said.

  All of us looked around the table at one another as my parents sat. It was true. Sunday dinners had evolved into myself and the rest of my brothers sitting down and sharing a meal together. Mostly because Sunday evenings were always the evenings Mom and Dad took time to themselves. Growing up, my parents did a very good job drawing lines between taking care of us, taking care of their business, and taking care of themselves. Friday nights were spent as a family, Saturday nights were spent dealing with emergency business proceedings, and Sunday nights were spent between the two of them. Sometimes Dad would take Mom out, or sometimes they’d make a day of it and go into town. They set a beautiful example of how to juggle their lives, which meant Sunday evenings were for us brothers to bond and basically get into trouble.

  “I took your mother to the spa today,” my father said.

  “Did you rob him blind, Mom?” Flynn asked, grinning.

  “You know I always do,” she said.

  “What’d you have done? I thought you looked like you were glowing. I was about to ask if you were pregnant again,” Drew said.

  “Pregnant? At my age? My gosh, I’d be crying,” Mom said.

  “You’d look radiant either way,” Drew said.

  “Kiss up,” Cayden said, smirking.

  “Hey. Mom deserves compliments. So, what all did you do at the spa?” Lucas asked. Anything to stall them from the inevitable conversation we were about to have.

  “Well, your father and I got a couple’s massage. Then I went on to get a facial, a mani-pedi, and I also got my hair done.”

  “You had some waxing done as well, right?” my father asked.

  “Holy hell,” I groaned.

  “Hey! You boys asked,” my mother said.

  “And while your mother was pampering herself, I walked over to the cigar lounge and enjoyed myself,” my father said.

  “He smelled like smoke all through lunch.”

  “But it was a great lunch, wasn’t it?”

  “I don’t like the way you’re looking at one another,” Cash said.

  “Well, when you find a woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, sometimes you have to roll with the punches,” my father said.

  “Or the pounds,” my mother said.

  “Oh. My. Fuck. I’m done,” I said.

  “Way to go, Dad,” Lucas said.

  “Seriously? You’re cheering that on? They’re talking about their sex life at the dinner table,” I said.

  “Hey. It should give you hope, Everett. Most people our age don’t have the hip power to have sex,” my father said.

  “I’m dying. This is what hell must feels like,” I said.

  “Quit being so dramatic. Your parents are in love. Shut up,” Drew said.

  “Dying, I tell you!” I exclaimed dramatically.

  I clutched my heart and faked a heart attack. Everyone at the table burst out laughing as bells and whistles started going off in the kitchen. Lucas and I slid our chairs out, then made our way to grab the food dishes for the evening. We cooked a particularly decadent spread. Crispy fried chicken, grilled vegetables, maca
roni and cheese, a fruit salad, steak niblets in this homemade teriyaki sauce, and beautiful homemade biscuits. Not to mention blackberry cobbler for dessert and sweet tea so strong it almost looked black.

  “Wow, if this is how you boys eat every Sunday night, I’m coming over more often,” my mother said.

  “This smells delicious. Who cooked?” my father asked.

  “It depends on the Sunday. But this time, Lucas and I tag-teamed,” I said.

  “So that’s your double-dipped fried chicken,” my mother said. She reached for a massive drumstick before I could even answer her question.

  “Thank you, Lord, for this wonderful food. Forgive me for not praying any longer. Amen!” my father exclaimed.

  Then, we all dove in headfirst.

  For the first fifteen minutes, no one spoke, which gave me time to gather my thoughts. It was my responsibility to bring this topic up since I was the one who neglected the insurance. I looked around at my brothers, who all nodded at me as they took bites of their food. When Lucas grabbed his drink and washed the first plate of his food down, I cleared my throat.

  “So, Mom. Dad. I have something I want to discuss with you guys,” I said.

  “Uh oh,” my father said.

  “Discuss. That’s a pretty formal word for a Sunday, non-working dinner,” my mother said.

  “It’s nothing bad. Just something we want to update you guys on,” Lucas said.

  “Might it have anything to do with the smoky fog that’s been looming over Charleston all week?” my father asked. I drew in a deep breath before I nodded.

  “It does,” I said.

  “The mansion burned down, didn’t it?” my mother asked.

  “Wait. What?” I asked.

  “The mansion. The one on the southside of town? With the massive garden?” she asked.

  “Oh! And the hot tub in the middle of it. I think the pool’s in the middle, too,” my father said.

  “What?” Lucas asked.

  “You guys know about that mansion?” Drew asked.

  “Know about it? We almost purchased it a year ago. It’s interesting that you boys didn’t think we’d find out about it. That’s been the hottest piece of historical property on the marketplace,” my father said.

  “So, how did it burn down? Another electrical fire? I swear, you boys have to be careful about those old homes,” my mother said.

  “Actually, there’s a lot we want to talk with you about on that front,” I said.

  “Then spit it out, Everett. What’s going on? I want to use my energy to eat this fabulous chicken of yours,” my father said.

  “I didn’t take insurance out on the house,” I blurted out. My father’s eyes hardened on me as my mother’s fork hit the plate.

  “You what?” she asked.

  “The purpose of buying the property was going to serve two points,” Lucas said. “First, it was a quick turnaround project to prove to the historical society that we could take care of their properties in the area.”

  “So, you botched that,” my father said.

  “And two, it was supposed to give us some quick cash to…”

  Fuck. I couldn't even say it.

  “Boys, what’s going on?” my mother asked.

  “It was supposed to give us the cash we needed to buy out you and Dad’s ten percent of Wisteria Lake Designs,” Lucas said.

  I couldn’t read the look on their faces, but it didn’t make me any less nauseous. If there was one thing I hated, it was upsetting Mom and Dad. All my life, I’d wanted to make them happy. Make them proud of me. And even at thirty-six years of age, I still wanted to make sure they were proud. Make sure they were happy with what we were doing.

  “You boys don’t want us as active participants in your company any longer?” my mother asked.

  “It isn’t about that. We built our company in your shadow. On your reputation. We don’t want your reputation to be what keeps us afloat. We want to do that on our own,” Lucas said.

  “Well, it sounds like you’re going to need our reputation to save your asses. How much money are you out?” my father asked.

  “It depends on the cause of the fire,” I said.

  “What do you mean by that?” my mother asked.

  “The night of the fire, the firemen gave us a couple of theories that the fire marshal is still exploring. One is the electrical fire, since they’re pretty sure the fire started in the walls,” I said.

  “What’s the other theory? What else could it be?” my father asked. I looked around at my brothers before I drew in a deep breath.

  “Because the house burnt so quickly to the ground, the fire marshal isn’t ruling out foul play,” I said. My mother’s jaw hit the floor as my father’s back straightened.

  “I want to speak with this fire marshal,” he said.

  “Dad, that isn’t—”

  “We’ll talk about this ‘buying us out’ stuff later. Right now, your mother and I still own ten percent of this business. You boys have done enough behind our backs. I want to speak with the fire marshal tomorrow,” he said.

  “See? This is the issue. We can handle this. We’ve had a handle on it all week,” Lucas said.

  “Everett didn’t take insurance out on one of the biggest properties you boys have ever worked on,” my mother said. “You don’t have a handle on it.”

  “I get it. I screwed up. Trust me, I understand that. However, the umbrella insurance we have on the business as a whole will cover most of what we’ve lost if it’s an electrical fire,” I said.

  “And if it’s foul play?” my father asked.

  “I’m in the process of speaking to them about that. I have another phone call with them tomorrow,” Lucas said.

  “I can’t believe you guys bought a property without running it by us and then didn’t take insurance out on the project. Everett, what were you thinking?” my mother asked.

  “He wasn’t. That’s the point,” my father said.

  “Look. I get it that it’s a crapshoot move. But what we’re wanting to do with Wisteria Lake Designs is a good idea. In fact, it was Everett’s idea, which was why he went and got his real estate license a few weeks ago,” Lucas said.

  “You did what?” my father asked.

  I shot Lucas a glance as the rest of my brothers sat back. I couldn't blame them for not wanting to jump in. My parents were sharks to their core. It was why their real estate business grossed millions of dollars every single year. Facing them head-on was practically a death sentence, but I knew the future trajectory of our business sat on our ability to sell this idea to them even in such dark times.

  So, I cleared my throat and got to work.

  “A few weeks ago, I got my real estate license. All of us specialize in one specific facet of the business while we all work together on the homes. You guys know this. But, there was no one to help conduct the sale and acquisition of the properties. That was always you and Mom,” I said.

  “And now?” my father asked.

  “Now, I can take on that responsibility. I can take a look at properties, I can take Lucas with me to assess their worth and design. I can call up Flynn and punch some numbers, and Wisteria Lake Designs can go from a simple design firm to an entire one-stop-shop for outfitting and flipping homes,” I said.

  “Which is what we want to do in the end,” Lucas said.

  I glanced over at my brother as he sat up straight in his chair. He always had the posture of Dad whenever he got on a roll with something serious. Massive, bulky, with steely eyes like our father. He was the only one in the family that had them, and it made him a very intimidating force to be reckoned with.

  “If you take away the fact that the place burned to the ground, it doesn't sound like a bad idea,” my mother said. I let out the breath I was holding as my father crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Why didn’t you boys come to us any sooner than this?” my father asked.

  “Because we knew you would try your hardest to
negotiate for something else. Something that didn’t scoot you and Mom out of the company. And we get it. It’s always been a family operation. But for years we’ve all strived to get out from underneath your shadow, and we can’t do that if you still have your hands in our company,” I said.

  “Do you not like it being a family operation?” my mother asked.

  “It’s not about that, Mom. It’s about establishing something for ourselves. We all know Drew is groomed to take over your real estate empire when the two of you decide to retire. And Drew doesn’t want any part in Wisteria Lake,” I said.

  “It’s true. I don’t want anything to do with the house-flipping business,” Drew said.

  “And we’ve made a good reputation for ourselves. Despite this fire, the historical society has given us the okay to reconstruct another one of their properties and sell it. We’re on a good track despite this hiccup,” Lucas said.

  “Which property?” my father asked.

  “It doesn't matter right now. We can talk about it later. That isn’t the point of this conversation,” I said.

  “Then what is the point?” my mother asked.

  “I guess, right now, it’s to sell you guys on that fact. Our eventual goal is to buy out you and Dad’s ten percent that you hold in Wisteria Lake and to make this a Wilder Brothers operation and not a Wilder Family operation. It’s time we took this to where we want it,” I said.

  “And that doesn't include us,” my father said.

  “It doesn’t include your reputation and public influence. There’s a difference,” Lucas said.

  My parents looked at one another before they both heaved a sigh. And it was all the signal we needed. I glanced over at Lucas and I watched him bury the grin rolling across his cheeks. My parents always sighed like that when they were about to throw in the towel. And it didn’t happen often.