Sweet Love - Mia Kayla Page 0,2

if it wasn’t going to be me. “Thanks for the tour. Can you lead me back to my desk now?”

“Sure.” She placed the bar back on the wall. “I’m diabetic.”

“You are?” My stomach sank. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s no big deal. I was diagnosed years ago, but I have it maintained. Anyway, come follow me.” Her flats with cute little bows tiptapped against the pink tiles. Every other tile had Colby’s logo etched on it.

“Casey, which department do you work in again?”

“I’m a manager in quality and assurance. In charge of the people who taste-test the candies for consistency and flavor.”

I nearly tripped mid-step. “And you’re diabetic. Can you taste-test the candies?”

“A little. But not too much.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m not. I love my job. I love this place, and it helps with my figure.” She slapped her nonexistent hip and gave me a cheeky thumbs-up.

I wondered how that even worked. This woman was employed in the quality and assurance lab. She managed the Q and A specialists, whose main job was to chew candy and determine the peak of the taste and consistency.

Man, if I thought my life was unfair, so was hers.

Chapter 2

Connor

I walked into the office and shut the door behind me.

Kyle, my brother, was seated at my desk as though he worked here, throwing a ball in the air and catching it. His feet were plopped up, as though it were his desk.

Floor-to-ceiling windows highlighted the Chicago skyline behind him, which had been my temporary view over the last few weeks. All big cities seemed the same—tall buildings, condo high-rises, city lights. Looking over at the skyscrapers reminded me of my permanent office in New York.

“What did people think of your outfit?” Kyle smirked.

“They actually loved it,” I deadpanned.

“Nice,” he drawled out.

“Especially the stripes on my shirt. I think we should add a bonnet to this ensemble.”

He threw me the ball, and I caught it mid-flight and placed it on the desk.

“This is the last time I bet you on anything. Why can’t we be like normal people and bet money?” I unbuttoned my shirt, slipped off my clothes and slid on my regular button-down, navy blue slacks, and striped tie.

“It’s more fun this way. Maybe you should learn never to bet against your little brother.”

Once changed, I kicked Kyle off my chair and motioned to the seat in front of me. Like a good boy, he moved but not before grabbing the ball from my desk and tossing it up in the air again.

My chair swiveled back and forth, and I took in the city, which I used to live in, where I had grown up in. I wouldn’t call this home because home was where the heart was, and there was no heart in Chicago.

“Three more months until this is over.” My voice was distant, and so were my thoughts.

When I’d left this place and gone to college, I’d told myself I’d never be back again. The only things that had brought me home were Nana and to see Kyle. Not even my parents begging had brought me back here. I was back because Nana had asked me to help my parents’ dying company survive.

“Well, hell, it’s not gonna be me, big bro. I’m not going to be the one to lead this company.”

“Then, why are you here?” I wrinkled my brow, watching the people below us, like little ants on an ant farm, doing their daily jobs.

The ball hit me directly on the side of my head, and it dropped to the floor, which forced me to turn around and look at him.

“Don’t be a jerk. You’re not here long, so don’t blame me for wanting to spend time with you,” he said, shooting me a look.

“It’s not what I meant. I mean, why are you here, at the company, when you don’t work here?”

“I’m always here. Even when you’re not. Because our parents are always here. And Nana is here.” He stood and walked to my side of the desk, leaning a hip against it. “And most of all, I want to see you save our parents’ company.”

I noticed how he hadn’t said our company because neither of us considered this our company even though our parents wanted to make it our legacy.

Everyone wanted to see me save this company. The profit margins had been dwindling for the last year. My parents had had consultant after consultant in to try to turn things around, but each and every one had failed. They’d all turned