All the Brayton Brothers Want Me

Chapter 8: Date Night Disaster

Diary Entry:

Date: September 10th

Time: 12:10 AM

Dear Diary,

Alec Brayton is the worst date ever. I’m pretty sure he sees me as a business strategy, not a person. Tonight, he made me order food I can’t pronounce and spent most of the evening glaring at anyone who so much as looked in my direction.

And now everyone in this town thinks we’re in love, which is ironic considering we spent the entire night arguing.

Oh, and guess who was there? Brandon and Genevieve. Together.

Kill me now.

-Ivy

Ivy froze, fork halfway to her mouth.

“We’re just… spending time together,” she stammered.

Her dad didn’t look convinced. “Don’t ruin this job for me,” he said sharply. “Be careful.”

Ivy barely swallowed the lump in her throat as she excused herself from the table. The moment she shut her bedroom door behind her, her phone pinged with a text.

Alec: Friday. 8 PM. Wear something nice.

No hello. No explanation. Just an order.

And so, at exactly 8 PM on Friday, Ivy found herself being ushered into one of Ashbourne’s most exclusive restaurants.

The kind of place with dim lighting, gold accents, and menus that didn’t bother listing prices because if you had to ask, you shouldn’t be there. Ivy fidgeted in her seat, feeling the weight of every stare from the perfectly polished diners around them.

Alec, on the other hand, looked completely at ease in his dark suit, scanning the room like he was assessing a business merger.

“You look like you’re plotting a hostile takeover,” Ivy muttered as she picked at her salad.

Alec smirked, sipping his wine. “It’s a habit.”

The date was stiff and awkward, filled with under-the-table bickering and forced smiles when the waiters passed by. Alec was curt, methodical, treating the evening like another deal he had to close.

Then everything got worse.

Brandon and Genevieve strolled into the restaurant, arm in arm.

Ivy’s stomach twisted as Brandon’s gaze landed on them. His grin widened like he had just stumbled into his favorite game. He veered toward them, sliding into their booth uninvited.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite marketing assistant,” he drawled.

Ivy stiffened. Alec’s entire body went rigid beside her.

Genevieve sat down gracefully next to Brandon, her expression pleasant but her eyes sharp. “I didn’t realize you and Ivy were so serious,” she mused. “You must bring her to the gala next week. It’ll be… illuminating.”

Ivy’s pulse spiked.

Alec’s jaw tightened. “We’ll see.”

As they left the restaurant, Alec grabbed Ivy’s arm, his grip firm but not rough.

“Brandon and Genevieve are up to something,” he said, his voice low. “And they’re going to use you to get to me.”