Of course, Roman could pay for himself to take a trip down the Columbia at any time. It wasn’t about the money, though, or the actual trip itself. Nothing at all about camping or rafting or water or even spending time together. It was about his dad deeming something Roman did as worthy enough to warrant the trip.
And Roman wasn’t going to make his dad proud enough to earn his own trip unless he got the investors on board, which wasn’t going to happen if he didn’t do the interviews with Bex. The impossibility of the task made him definitely not want to be at this dinner.
Drake’s reminder must’ve made his dad think about the trip as well, because he asked Roman, “Speaking of which, how are things going with the investors?”
“Good. They have some requests we are working on meeting right now.” He shot his mom a glance, hoping dinner was ready so that the subject could change before his dad asked more questions.
“Briza,” Roman’s mom said, turning to her, “Legend mentioned that you just finished midterms for your final semester. How did that go?”
Roman took a relieved breath as Briza talked excitedly about a public relations class that had a simulated public image issue to resolve for a fictitious client. Both of his parents beamed, probably because she was shaping up to be a perfect potential Powell daughter-in-law. A docile trophy-wife who could plan parties and look pretty.
But neither Drake’s wife nor Roman’s mom was docile or shallow eye candy. Maybe all Powell men needed someone strong and driven—he hadn’t realized it before. But really, he was just glad his dad wasn’t asking him any more questions.
Until his parents’ personal chef stepped into the room and said that dinner was ready to be served. As they walked toward the dining table that separated the drawing room from the open kitchen, his dad said, “It’s been a while since you’ve brought a woman to a family dinner.”
“I’m not dating anyone right now.” The bigger truth was, it had been a while since he had wanted to subject anyone to their family dinners. Bex immediately came to mind—probably because he had just spent time with her yesterday. He imagined her coming to dinner, talking about her YouTube channel and how she liked to get personal with guests. Then he imagined how his dad would react and how much he would despise her work and probably everything about her. And how Bex would stand strong and not let something like the intimidating presence of Dr. Richmond Powell IV, D.B.A. make her stand down from her beliefs.
Actually, he really liked the thoughts of that showdown. It would definitely make Sunday dinners more interesting.
He felt a notification on his phone, so he snuck a peek. It was an email from Tarak, the guy from Business Success who had interviewed him. This wasn’t his first request that he’d sent, asking Roman to join him on a panel about social media at the PNW Open for Business Convention. But he was going to ignore it, just like he had the others.
As at every dinner, everyone gave an update of what was going on at their jobs. Drake talked about his as a business strategist who just helped another Fortune 500 company. Roman updated about his business, too, but kept it to how their release plans were going for Nudge Out. Legend talked about a new playground he just designed. Playground equipment wasn’t the direction their dad had envisioned that Legend would use his architecture degree, but it fit Legend. And since he was the youngest and could do no wrong, going an unexpected direction was exactly what had earned him his trip down the Columbia.
As everyone talked, all Roman could think about was texting Bex. It took him by surprise that the method of getting himself out of their family dinner was to talk to the woman whose interviews had caused him so much stress. But he had actually enjoyed getting to see her in action, and getting to know her better. He smiled just thinking about that deer chasing them, or the look she’d had on her face when he’d offered a hand to pull her up after she’d slipped in the creek. Or when he’d taken off his jacket and wrapped it around her.
Like he did every Sunday dinner right about the time the main course was served, Roman’s dad told a story or two about something that happened in some business meeting or business get-together. This one was about a social gathering one of his executives had hosted at their house. It sounded like they had a dozen or so guests, and that the guy’s adult son, Bennett, was there as well.
“Everyone was in small groups, sipping their drinks and eating refreshments, when, suddenly, the woman Bennett had brought to the reception slapped him right across the face, and then stormed out of the place. Of course, Bennett just stood there, stunned and looking sheepish, while things got uncomfortable for everyone in the room. We didn’t hear what Bennett had said to cause her to react, but there were whispers that he had made a joke about a gift she had sent to his office after he lost a big client.”
Roman’s mom shook her head. “Why he thought that bringing up something personal between the two of them was a good idea—and to make a joke about it, nonetheless—is beyond me.”
“Bennett’s parents were so ashamed,” his dad continued. “I had to take Roy aside and assure him that no one looked down on him just because his kid made a poor choice that suddenly became everyone’s business. But we all knew that everyone was looking down on them, anyway.”
Before Roman even had a chance to think about what he was doing, he found himself standing up, his phone in his hand. “If you’ll please excuse me, this is a business call I have to take.”
He walked back into the drawing room and out the doors to the patio. He didn’t know why he was out there—he hadn’t gotten a phone call. All he knew was that he had to get out of the dining room, and the only acceptable reason for leaving was to take a business call. That, and he had been thinking of Bex and hearing his dad’s story made him want to see her. To call her. To set up a time for their next interview.
Which was foolhardy and irrational. Hearing his dad all evening should’ve put him in a mind to call off the rest of the interviews and talk her into not airing the first one. As he thought about all the things he shared with her—not just on audio or on paper, either. But on video, where there would be no mistaking that it was something he said—he knew they were things that would disappoint his dad greatly.
Hah. That was an understatement. It would probably be a reaction more along the lines of writing him out of his will. He could imagine the will reading right now. And because Roman went on video with a site inelegant enough to be named “Bexlandia” and share that he liked the Half Pigeon Pose and once got trapped on a lake in a canoe without paddles, I bequeath to him exactly one item—something I bought especially with him in mind: An outhouse by a rundown cabin in the Mount Hood National Forest.
But instead of reacting like a sane human would, he called Bex. He was playing with fire, and he knew it. But for some inexplicable reason, those flames were drawing him to their warmth.
The phone rang twice before he heard her voice. “You’ve reached the voice mailbox of Bex Sterling. If you are calling with complaints about the previous interview or to make any more requests on what should be cut and what is allowed to be aired, please hang up and don’t try again. If you are calling to schedule the next interview, please remain on the line.”