Prince Albert(104)

Gaige laughs.

"No offense, Gaige," Beau drawls. "I mean sexy in a business sense. Gaige is perfect. He draws in the male and female demographic. He's going to do for Marlowe what the racecar drivers do for other companies."

My father refuses to actually name his competitors in private, instead referring to them as "that other organization" or "the one with the idiot CEO."

"Okay," I say. I'm failing to anticipate how this is going to involve me. My father promised me an entry-level position, something a normal college graduate would have. Please, please, please, I silently beg the universe, do not let this be the kind of thing where I have to get coffee for Gaige or something equally humiliating.

"This is a huge deal," Beau says. "And we're partnering with one of the biggest motorcycle manufacturers in the world for a Japanese tour during the off season, during which Gaige is going to promote Marlowe Oil at every opportunity. There's the potential for them to sign on to use Gaige in major promotion in the future. And Marlowe Oil."

"Congratulations," I say, nodding at Gaige, who's smiling like the cat that ate the canary. I'm afraid to ask what he might be thinking. I look warily at my father.

"I want you on Gaige in Japan," he says.

"Me?" I squeak.

No, no, no. Hell, no. The words echo in my head.

"Wait. What?" Gaige asks. He sounds as surprised as I am.

"Shouldn't someone more…I don't know, experienced…go with Gaige?"

"And someone who's not my stepsister," Gaige says. Now he doesn't sound surprised; he sounds irritated. Why shouldn't he want to go with me? I'm the one who shouldn't want to go with him. "You didn't mention this before."

"I didn't mention it because I hadn't realized yet how useful Delaney would be," Beau says. "Besides, there will be plenty of experienced people – the company rep and Gaige's staff."

What the what? Gaige has staff?

"But, I don't understand," I say. This entire situation refuses to compute in my brain. "Why would you need me?"

Gaige makes a sound under his breath. "Don't you get it?" he asks. "So you can be my fucking babysitter."

"You speak Japanese," Beau says.

"But surely there are translators."

"Not ones I'd trust the way I trust you," he says.

"Exactly," Gaige says. He stands up. "Your father wants to negotiate me being the face of Marlowe Oil, but he doesn't actually think I'm capable of doing just that."

I look up at Gaige, suddenly torn between feeling completely weird and awkward about this position, and defending my father. "I'm sure that's not what he's saying. Right, dad?"

But my father hesitates a second too long, and Gaige pushes himself away from the table. "That's exactly what he's saying," he says. "Come on, Delaney. This is a great opportunity for you. When else in your life are you going to get a chance to babysit the famous train wreck, Gaige O'Neal?"

Gaige doesn't say anything else, just storms out of the room, and I'm left sitting there at the table with my father, the air in the room tense.

"Dad," I start. "Am I just going to be a glorified babysitter? Surely someone else would be better for that than his own stepsister. Like his manager or something."

"I didn't want Gaige to take it that way," he says. "But…"

"But it's true." I don't even bother to hide my groan. "Come on, dad…"

"Gaige is going to do wonders as the face of Marlowe Oil. We're too uncool; we need someone exactly like him to make oil young and hot. Oil isn't sexy now."

"But Gaige is unpredictable."

"He's like a horse that needs broken," Beau says. "He needs to be kept from pulling stupid stunts like the one that got his leg messed up, and from picking up the wrong girls in Japan."

"I shouldn't be the one to –"

"I would very much like if you would do this. Give it some thought. You're not leaving immediately. It won't be until the end of next month. You both have a while to get used to the idea."

I would very much like if you would do this. There's a reason my father has gotten where he has in life. He has a way of issuing demands without making them sound like demands. His requests are never actually requests. They're orders. It's actually rather Japanese of him; I wonder if he knows that.

"Dad, you can't think that I'm going to be the one to keep him in line overseas," I protest.

"That's exactly what I need you to do," Beau says. "I have full confidence in you. I can't trust anyone else. You've always had a way with him, and he's always listened to you."