Matchmaking The CEO: A Grumpy-Sunshine Romance, page 1
Matchmaking The CEO
Layla Hagen
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Matchmaking The CEO
Copyright © 2022 Layla Hagen
Cover: Uplifting Designs
Photography: Wander Aguiar
Copyright ©2021 Layla Hagen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Epilogue
Chapter One
Jake
"Jake, what do you mean you're in Boston?"
I’d called my right-hand man, Ben, to let him know I was out of town. He sounded stressed out, and of course I knew why.
"My grandparents wanted me to come see them.”
“But we have that pitch with Tokyo in the evening."
"I know, Ben. And I'll be back in time for that." I had a private plane that got me where I needed to be, and I’d be back in New York before that meeting.
I’d just stepped into the neighborhood florist’s shop and was heading up to the counter when the sales associate greeted me. "A bouquet of lilies, please."
"You’re buying flowers." I could almost see the shock on Ben’s face.
"Yes. For my grandmother.” I’d never show up at Jeannie Whitley's house without flowers.
"I think I stepped into an alternate universe," Ben said. "You never make time for anything, and now you've canceled your meetings this afternoon to fly to Boston and back while also stopping to buy flowers."
"My grandparents know I’m busy. They wouldn't have asked me here if it wasn't serious." Ben was right. I never did make time for much except clients. Workouts were a necessity—a way to blow off steam. And so was dating, although that was currently on hiatus. "I always make time for my grandparents and my brothers. I'll call you later once I’m on my way back. As soon as you finish the pitch, send it to me, and I’ll review it on my way to the airport. It’ll work out. Trust me."
"Fine."
Even though this was out of character for me, I wasn’t worried in the least. I could check in on my grandparents and catch up with my brothers, then fly back to the city in time to pitch to our prospective client from Tokyo.
Once the sales associate handed me the bouquet of flowers, I got back in the car, driving to my grandparents' home in Dorchester, a quiet family neighborhood.
Being back in Boston brought me no joy. Somehow everything reminded me of my father. My life was in New York now, and I liked it that way. I parked my car—technically my brother Colton’s, as he’d it dropped off at the airport for me to use— in front of my grandparents' house, walking up to the front door with quick steps.
On second thought, this house brought back some good memories too. This place was like a time capsule. The Colonial-style house was exactly the way I remembered it from childhood—painted green, with a wraparound porch and white windowsills and railings. The tiled roof was gray. They had evergreen bushes around the edge of the property, which hid the home well from view.
I knocked on the door before ringing the bell. The door swung open a couple minutes later. My grandmother smiled from ear to ear, opening her arms wide. "Darling, you brought me flowers."
"How are you, Grandmother?" I said, kissing her cheek and handing her the bouquet.
Jeanie Whitley was eighty-nine but as fit and sharp as ever. She was thinner than I remembered, and she'd stopped coloring her hair this past year, announcing she was finally ready to own up to her age. My grandfather walked into the hallway a few seconds later.
"Good to see you, Grandson." He shook my hand, then patted me on the shoulder as I went in and gave him a warm hug. Grandfather was formal in his way, but it never stopped us from showing our affection. "We’re very grateful you could come at such short notice.”
“It sounded important.”
“Come on. Let's go to the dining room," Grandmother said, "I didn't have time to prep a feast." Usually she liked to cook my favorite foods whenever I visited.
She took out a vase from the sideboard, heading to the kitchen while Grandfather and I went to sit at the oversized dining table.
"What do you want to drink?" he asked. "Bourbon? Or is it too early in the day?"
"It's always a good time for bourbon," I said, "but I need my mind clear today." I reached for the water carafe and one of three glasses in the center of the table.
My grandmother returned, placing the vase with the flowers back on the sideboard.
The two of them exchanged a glance. My throat closed up. Something was up.
"What is it?" I asked. "Why did you ask me to come visit? Are either of you sick?"
"No, no, nothing like that." My grandmother sat down opposite me at the massive mahogany table, and my grandfather poured himself a bourbon, then joined us.
I’d always found this table to be insanely big. They'd purchased it years ago, insisting they wanted all eight grandkids to have a seat at the table. But as far as I was concerned, I only had four brothers.
My younger brothers had embraced our father's other family as if it hadn't broken Mom's heart. Colton and I were the oldest and were the odd ones out on this. We witnessed firsthand what the pain of divorce did to our mother, and we weren't quick to forgive.
"You know," Grandmother began, "Whitley Industries has many branches."
"I know," I replied, careful not to sound short. Whitley Industries had tendrils reaching everywhere in Boston. It was involved in biotech, advertising, magazine publishing, coffee, and craft distillery, among many others. My brothers were running four of the Whitley businesses, and my half brothers owned three of the bunch.
"I don't know if your brothers told you, but the advertising branch is failing," Grandfather said.
"We really don’t talk about Whitley Industries, Grandfather. Honestly, I don't have time for that." I'd built my own company from the ground up. I owned a management consultancy. I turned businesses around, and I made a very good living at it too. Besides, no one from the family ran Whitley Advertising.
"We figured you probably didn't. It's sinking," Grandmother said.
"It's been a money pit for years," I agreed. Thirteen years ago, before the family discovered my father led a double life, everyone hailed him as a genius. He seemed to have it all together. He'd led Whitley Industries after Grandfather retired, taking it to unparalleled heights. Everyone in the area praised Ryan Whitley for being so good at multitasking companies. On the surface, he seemed to be doing great. After he'd hightailed out of town, it turned out that several of the companies he'd created under the Whitley Industries umbrella were struggling. It had forced Grandfather out of retirement.
My older brother, Colton, took over the biotech branch. He was a CEO as much as he was a scientist. Spencer ran the publishing branch, Cade took over the coffee production, and Gabe had the craft distillery. I’d chosen my own path. I'd been the one who discovered our father's infidelity at twenty, and I’d wanted nothing to do with Whitley Industries.
It had been a hard time for all of us—my brothers, our mother, and our grandparents. They’d been shocked at their son’s betrayal. Even today, we rarely spoke about him.
"Listen, Grandson, we're not going to beat around the bush. We want to ask you to help turn it around." Grandfather was direct as usual, something I appreciated myself.
I straightened in my chair. "Okay. Let me check with my team, and we’ll take it on as soon as possible.” There was no sense arguing with my grandparents; I knew they wouldn’t ask this of me unless they felt they had no choice. Although I wasn’t excited about adding another thing to my plate, I would do anything for my family.
Grandfather shook his head. "No, not like a project. Not like a client. It needs more than that."
"My team is very good, Grandfather," I assured him.
He took another swig of
"We want you to come to Boston for a while, take over the reins of the company until you turn it around."
It took a few seconds for me to realize what they implied. I wasn’t happy about where this was going. "You don't have a CEO?"
"No," Grandmother replied, looking none too happy. "He quit months ago, and your grandfather has tried to put out fires in the meantime."
I couldn't believe this. My grandfather was eighty-eight. He'd gone into retirement for the second time eight years ago. Putting out fires wasn't the relaxing retirement the doctor prescribed after his heart attack.
I looked from one to the other. "Why am I only hearing about this now?"
"We know talking about the company upsets you, and we didn't want to ask unless it was absolutely necessary. Now it is," Grandfather explained.
I chose my next words carefully because the people sitting across from me meant the world to me. After my father's infidelity was revealed, he left town, and Mom got sick. Our grandparents did their best to keep the family together, to keep us all from sinking. It hadn't been easy.
"I have my own company to run, and it would be impossible for me to take over, even as a temporary CEO.” I saw the disappointment on their faces and felt like shit. “What I can do is help you find another one as soon as possible while also putting my team on the case to start to turn things around."
My grandmother's smile was strained. Damn it, I hated that. I didn't want to let them down, but I really didn’t have other options. My life was in New York and had been for the last eleven years. I had clients who personally depended on me. They wouldn't be very happy if I suddenly moved to Boston, even if I kept up with my business by working remotely.
"All we ask of you is to consider it. Your grandfather isn't getting any younger," grandmother said.
I barely bit back a smile. Grandmother was going for the emotional attack, and she was very good at it. Every time I called her, I got a guilt trip about moving out of Boston in the first place. But back then, I'd wanted a fresh start, and I'd wanted nothing to do with Whitley Industries.
"That’s all we have to say, Jake.” Grandfather looked beat. I hated to think he was spending time at that damn company. I had to figure something out. Maybe my brothers could help me consider all the options.
“Are you meeting your brothers while you're here?" Grandmother asked, as if guessing my thoughts.
"Yes, of course. I'm catching up with them later." I looked at my watch—later being in forty minutes.
My grandfather shook his head. "Grandson, I know you're a busy man, but don't go around living your life in one-hour increments, counting down every minute. Before you know it, you'll be an old man wondering how life passed you by."
My grandmother gave him a stern look. "Stop lecturing him. He won't want to come see us anymore."
I chuckled. "Don't worry, Grandmother. He can't scare me away."
“That’s good. Before I forget... as you know, I'm turning ninety this year."
"I know." My brothers were already up in arms about buying her presents.
"And I want to throw a big bash. You know, I never thought I'd actually get to this age. And now that I have, I want to celebrate it with my friends. Those who are still with us," she added after a dramatic pause. My grandmother had been a local theater actress her whole life. She said she missed putting on performances, so she employed what she called the dramatic flair whenever she could with the family.
"It's going to be grand," she finished.
"On a weekday?"
Grandmother rolled her eyes. "It's going to be on a weekend."
"That's good. I can take weekends off. Where?"
"I haven't decided yet, but I'm going to hire a very nice event planner to help me with it."
No kidding. She meant business, then. I couldn't remember a time when she'd hired someone else to plan a party for her. My grandmother lived for throwing big get-togethers. She jokingly called it her second job.
"I'll be there," I said. Even though I lived in another city, I never missed either of their celebrations.
"I'll keep you to that, young man. Do you promise?"
"I wouldn't miss it." Something told me she didn't totally believe me. Was I such a coldhearted bastard that my own grandmother thought I’d miss her birthday? Sure, I was tough in business, but hadn’t I made it clear to them how much I cared for them?
"It's going to be fabulous," she continued, putting on her actress smile. It was easy to tell it apart from her regular one. It was practiced. "I've already started on the guest list. I'm not sure if I'm going to invite Angela. She always brags about having great-grandkids. Keeps asking me when I'm going to have some of my own." She looked at me speculatively. This was guilt trip number two. When was I going to settle down? When was I going to have children? The answer was simple. I wouldn't. It wasn't in my plans. Not now, not in the future.
"Any news to share with us, darling?"
"The answer to that is always no. You know that." I knew they thought I was being hardheaded about this, but I didn’t believe in the illusion of family. I’d witnessed firsthand how easily one could be ruined. I wanted no part of it.
"I keep hoping that will change. Such a pity. All those good genes to pass on."
That was what bothered me. I didn't exactly want to pass down the Whitley genes.
"Okay, time to let the boy go. You wouldn't want to be late for your brothers. How much time do you have allotted for them?"
I couldn't help but laugh because they knew me so well. “Two hours, and then I'm flying back to New York.”
"Goodness, Jake, you can't work eighteen-hour days your whole life."
"I've reduced that considerably from eighteen to twelve," I said with a straight face. "These days, I make time for other activities, like working out in the morning."
Grandmother sighed. "If I didn't love you so much, I'd say you sound like a lost cause."
"But I’m not."
Kissing their cheeks, I bid them both goodbye before stepping out of the house.
I was meeting my brothers at a bar in Beacon Hill. Colton had been the one to suggest it. I'd been surprised, to say the least, when he informed me that he was joining our get-together as well. He was in the midst of a new discovery, as he called it, and the whole family complained they barely saw him these days.
I arrived in Beacon Hill twenty minutes later. The end of June was pleasantly warm in Boston and not yet humid. Even though I grew up here, I'd been gone for a long while. I’d left two years after our life imploded. I finished my BA and went to NYU Stern School of Business to get my master’s. New York felt more like home than Boston, but I wouldn't deny that seeing my four brothers gathered at a bar table made me feel like the odd man out.
I was missing a lot by not being here with them.
"The man of the hour," Spencer said when I approached, patting my shoulder. "You even got Colton to leave the lab. Good for you."
"Great to see you, man!" Cade said, and Spencer nodded.
"How much time do you have?" Colton asked. No bullshit. Straight to the point as usual.
"Two hours, and then the plane goes back." I slid him the keys to his car before I forgot. “Thanks, man.”
“She drive good?” Colton had a Mercedes AMG GT, and it was a damn good car.
“Great. I need to get me one of those.”
Spencer and Gabe nodded in agreement.
We were all relatively close in age. Colton was thirty-four, and I was younger by a year. Cade and Spencer were both thirty-one. They were twins, but you wouldn’t know it by looking at them; they shared neither the same appearance nor the same personality. Gabe was the youngest at twenty-nine.
"What did Grandmother ask you here for? Was it about her birthday, or was it to remind you that it's a pity you're not passing on those blue eyes and that thick hair to future generations?" Gabe asked. "Don't worry. We get the same speech from time to time."
"They asked me here to be the CEO of Whitley Advertising. Why didn't any of you tell me Grandfather went back to work?" I asked.
Colton and Spencer exchanged glances. Gabe frowned.
Cade cocked a brow. "We tried to solve the issue by ourselves. Would it have made a difference if we told you?"
"Yes. Obviously. I offered to help them find a CEO."
Cade snorted. "You think we all didn't try that? Grandfather too? It's not like you can pick up one off the street.”
