I shake my head.
“You can learn a lot about people by looking at what display in their art. For instance, if you look at the paintings of Monet, his impressionistic work leaves you with the idea that he liked to look at the whole of a scene and less so at the details. He was a big picture guy, who likely didn’t care for the minutiae of life. Then you take someone like Dali, whose work was less about the big picture and more about the ideas of things, and you can assume he was in his head all the time.” Gray blinks at me a few times and I think I said something wrong. I murmur, “What? What is it?”
He throws his black head back and laughs, showing off flashing white teeth.
“Well, sweetheart, you basically just explained humanity in a nutshell.”
I start in surprise.
“I did?”
He nods.
“For instance, I date women in my social set who make themselves feel better by wearing the latest designer clothes or have the most exclusive handbag. They expect me to be impressed by their effort to look a certain way, but I couldn’t be more bored by their attempts because what they value means absolutely nothing to me. Like Dali expresses, their outfits only have perceived value in their own heads.”
I smile hesitantly.
“Well, then what means something to you?”
Gray gets a contemplative look on his face, and his fingers toy with the label on the Kombuchaid bottle.
“Contributing to the world. Making a difference. It probably sounds grandiose to you –”
“Not really,” I interject quickly. He smiles again.
“But I always thought health was a good place to start. That’s part of why I wanted to start my business.”
“Fizzy flavored tea to save the planet?” I tease.
He stares me down, and then something inside cracks and he laughs as well.
“Well, human health and physical fitness are a starting point, but it’s not the end of my journey of making the world a better place.”
I smile at him, so impressed.
“What’s next for the mighty Gray Jamison then? You’ve already accomplished so much, so really, the sky’s the limit.”
He looks me over and there’s an understanding there. Is it my imagination, or are we actually having an adult conversation where we talk about hopes, dreams, and goals? It makes me feel like I’m on his level, and not a little girl he’s catering to.
But Gray merely grins again.
“I have plans. You’ll see.” His sips his Ginger Bliss, and then turns to me again. “So, does your dad know that you love art, and hate marketing? Or is Brent completely in the dark?”
I sigh.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, it feels like he’s hellbent on me working at Kombuchaid and carrying on the family business, even if I don’t want to.”
Gray eyes me, as if weighing his next words.
“But you know, this business is mine too. We’re fifty-fifty owners.”
I nod.
“Yes, but you’re not married and you don’t have kids, so I think my dad wants to put it all on me.”
The handsome CEO is silent once more.
“But we could find a truce,” he says slowly. “We could merge our families somehow. Maybe leave it to the next generation to carry on the business.”
I squint at him.
“But how? I mean,” Then I stop talking altogether and stare at him. “Are you saying …”
The handsome man throws his head and laughs again.
“Yes. It’s a novel idea, but something worth thinking about. I mean, if you had my child, Harlow, we’d have the perfect solution, wouldn’t we? You wouldn’t have to work in the business, and you’d have your freedom. But your dad would get what he wants too, which is an heir to carry on the business.”
“Not to mention, you’ll get an heir to carry on the business too,” I murmur.
His blue eyes gleam wickedly.
“Exactly. Everyone gets what they want. What do you think?”
I shake my head, as if clearing it of cobwebs.
“This is crazy, Gray. You’re my dad’s business partner, not to mention his best friend! Also, I’ve known you since I was a baby. We can’t have a baby together because it’d be too weird.”
But he doesn’t look dissuaded by my comment at all. Instead, he turns to me and casually asks, “Why are you single, Harlow? You’re such a beautiful woman. Men must be throwing themselves at you non-stop.”
I giggle nervously and feel hot all over again.
“I don’t know about me being beautiful, but honestly, I’m not even sure why I’m single. I had a boyfriend for almost two years, but things didn’t work out.”
“How come?”
I pout prettily.
“That’s awfully personal, Uncle Gray.”
He seems pained when I say that.
“I’ll tell you about my last disastrous break-up, if you tell me about yours,” he invites in a low voice.
Okay, this conversation is getting more and more bizarre. Gray Jamison has led me all over the place, and I have no idea what’s happening. But I decide to keep following to see where it leads.
I laugh, “Well, alright then. Everly was a confident, handsome boy who quoted Marxist theory and wore Timberland boots, in addition to smoking cloves.”
Gray laughs.
“Is that what you liked about him?”
I giggle.
“God no. I went through a pretentious phase, and Everly was a good fit, that’s all. I hated the smell of cloves, and actually, his real name is “Evan” but it wasn’t hip enough for him, so he legally changed it to “Everly.” Have you ever dated someone like that?”
Gray sighs.
“Maybe,” he growls, shaking his head. “Although I think her name was ‘Cosmo’ instead of ‘Corinne.’”
“Exactly!” I cry with a smile. “See, these people are all over! But basically, Everly and I met freshman year and we were together for almost two years. But then, I began to realize that he was stuck in a
