by Ashley Kay
A memory flares in the recesses of my mind. We were in fifth grade, and I was being bullied by a bunch of punks over my obsession with Timex watches. Grandpa had one in particular that was my favorite, and our parents gave it to me when he died. Greyson swooped in like the savior he believed he was and had my back. I was envious. Wanted to be just like him with his confident swagger and ability to control the room. I admired his take charge attitude, but when I glance briefly at him now, all I see is weakness, the love lost between us.
“Alright, so your father set up his accounts to continue like normal since Grace is still here and functioning,” that earns a chuckle from my mother, “and there’s no change except for formalities I can follow up with you later on. As for you boys, your father left a letter and instructed me to read it before going any further.” Jasper hesitates before continuing, ramping up my already tangible anxiety.
Great, now it’s going to get emotional in here. I’m currently allergic to emotions. Why can’t he let us read it to ourselves?
Jasper clears his throat and reads.
“To my boys Preston and Greyson,
Yes, to me you are still boys. You two will always be my little boys. Even if you are fifty years old by the time you read this, you will still be little in my eyes. Something compelled me to write this, call it intuition, or just plain smart, but I wanted you two to know my last wishes no matter how long it takes for death to claim me. My biggest hope is that this letter will be void because time would have healed all the wounds. Just know that I love you two more than life itself and what I’m going to request may challenge that, but sometimes love is tough and it makes hard decisions. Let this old man get out what I have to say before you shut down, Preston.”
Jasper pauses, giving me the side-eye glance that states: please pay attention, this is important. I roll my eyes but shift in my seat to lean forward, waving a hand. “I’m all ears.”
“Right now, you boys are at an impasse with each other. At odds with the one person you should never be at odds with. You are brothers, twins. The other half doesn’t work well without the other and I’ve seen the effects of your strained relationship over the years.”
I stare down at the immaculate carpet, wishing it would rip open and swallow me whole.
Dad, what are you doing? A sappy love letter can ’t fix this, I don’t know if it will ever be fixed … I didn’t break us—he did. Greyson’s gaze fixates out the bay window with his hand resting under his chin, slowly twisting a worn, tarnished silver ring around his middle finger.
“I’m doing what I believe is best to help you two repair your relationship before it’s too late. I’ve taken care of all the details—this is all ironclad so there’s no way around it. Don’t even attempt to figure out a way, Preston, it will be futile.”
What the actual fuck… I stiffen, my back flush against the chair.
“Greyson and Preston, you both will spend a year in Montana running the SoS Facility. Together. Once the year is up, you both will receive your part of the trust. If you do not honor this, you’ll both be left with no inheritance, the businesses will be sold, and the money given to the many charities we currently support. You remember that neither of the companies you run are in your name alone, therefore, there is no other option for you two. Please take this time to fix what’s broken. You need each other, you just don’t realize it anymore. I’m here to help with that. See, even six feet under, I’m useful. Boys, I love you.
Love,
Your dear old dad
PS. Your year starts in a week.”
Is this a joke? Please tell me it’s a joke. Dad never pulled pranks. He certainly wouldn’t try now … would he?
Jasper puts down the letter. The surrounding air is heavy with the weight of our father’s death and his last wishes. A year in Montana with Greyson. I’d rather cut my eyes out and feed them to ravens. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I gear up to send a text to my lawyer, my hands shaking.
“It’s no use, Preston, your father was correct. It’s all ironclad. There’s no loophole. He made sure of it.” Jasper holds his hands out to apologize.
“Are you fucking serious? What the hell was he thinking?” I roar at the room. Gripping my hair, I lean my head back in the chair.
“Preston, language, please.” My mother’s admonishment slices through the air.
Grey speaks up, his voice cracking, “It’s what dad wanted, P, we need to honor it. He did everything for us, we owe him.”
“I don’t owe anyone anything. Especially you.” I swivel my head back over at my mom to see what she thinks of this whole clusterfuck. She holds her head up high, pinning me down with her eyes—a look that only mothers give their petulant children. Glaring back, I refuse to wither.
“Preston Alexander Lee, your father did nothing without thinking it all the way through. There was a rhyme and reason to everything he did, even with you boys. You’ll do this. This family must remain a family.” She gathers her things, kisses Greyson on his head and then my cheek like she used to do when we were kids, and leaves, a trail of her cloying perfume lingering in the air.
Pushing back the chair as I stand up, I point a finger at my brother, venom lacing every word. “I do not want to help you. I want nothing to do with you. Even after all these years, what you did is seared into my mind. If I could cut out that memory, I would.” I glare at him, shaking my head vehemently. Now is not the time to think about it, not with my dad’s grave still as fresh as the snow falling outside.
Greyson clears his throat. “I know. You don’t need anyone. You’ve made that pretty clear. I don’t think we have much of a choice in the matter. We both need this. Your future isn’t the only one in jeopardy here. I need to get back to Montana and make the arrangements for when you come. Just let me know when you’re going to fly out and I’ll have everything ready. It’s just a year, P…” He says the last part softly. I don’t reply and he doesn’t wait for one. Snatching his jacket, he pauses for a second like he wants to say more. Instead, he raises his hand, running it through his hair. Then he’s gone.
Jasper is organizing his pile of papers, silent as I process my father’s request.
A year. Three hundred and sixty-five days. My hands scour down my face, feeling my nails as they dig into my skin. It’s an impossible situation my father just thrust me into. There’s no choice. Take this year and try to get through it unscathed or lose everything I’ve ever known. Sure, I could probably start on my own, but … the real estate company has been in our family for decades—unlike Greyson’s business that was started right after college. Lee Corp began its reign with my great-grandfather only looking to help families find homes. It’s now a multi-million-dollar company whose goal is still the same, but now on a much grander scale. The expected ripple effect if the businesses didn’t exist anymore makes goosebumps pepper my skin. I’m powerless to do anything other than accept this.
I’m pinching the bridge between my eyes, stewing when Jasper speaks. “I’ve known you and your brother your whole lives. I saw it go down. Your father fell into a depression when you two were on the outs, and then when you guys never repaired your relationship, he came to me for advice. Although, never having children myself, I don’t believe I was much help except to be a sounding board. He wanted to spur you two into fixing whatever was broken. Here’s your chance to honor your father and make amends with your brother. You haven’t been happy either, Preston. This ‘new’ you, isn’t you. It’s just you hiding your pain, but you aren’t hiding it very well.” He adjusts his glasses and, with a nod, leaves me alone to think about my new crushing reality.
My office overlooks New York City’s Central Park. Twenty-five thousand beautiful trees blankets the nearly eight hundred and forty-three acres and is littered with twenty-nine sculptures, ice skating rinks, swimming pools, and the Central Park Zoo housing one hundred and thirty different species—all of which I’ve never seen up close. Life in Manhattan is busy as fuck, and I’
m no different. Fourteen-hour days, seven days a week is the cornerstone of anyone working in Corporate America. Lee Corp Real Estate is no exception.
Standing and peering out the floor-to-ceiling windows, I judge the landscape. Such a gorgeous view and simply no time to enjoy it … so what’s the point?
Fresh out of college, I found myself in a big corner office handling one of the most profitable real estate businesses in Manhattan and possibly all of New York as Chief Financial Officer. Yet, even with all the wealth, it fails to make my life meaningful.
I head back to my desk, lowering myself into my leather chair, power up my laptop, and scan today’s to-do list. Send acquisition files to Simon. Check. Update Carol on new property line-ups. Check. Move to Montana for a year and try not to murder my backstabbing brother in the process … fuck.
Picking up the phone, I bark out, “Suze, can you schedule a meeting with the company attorneys for this afternoon? Yes, this afternoon, it can’t wait.” Once I’ve ended the call, I lean back in my chair and steeple my hands. I don’t care what the will says, there has to be some loophole. Some means by which I can bypass this next year of hell and go about my life.
On a whim or just pure morbid curiosity, I open my laptop and with a quick search, find Greyson’s business website. It’s a tourist wet dream. Bright pictures of the beautiful landscape encompass the screen, boasting regal mountains and dense forests with just the place to explore it at: Survivalist and Outdoor Sporting Facility. SoS for short, located in Engelmann, Montana.
Clicking over to the photos tab, the first picture is of Greyson. He’s standing next to a bunch of people that look like employees. His smile is carefree. A twinge of jealousy twists my guts. For a millisecond, I envision myself next to him, just as carefree. Scowling, I turn my attention to the person right next to him with her arm slung up over his shoulder. It’s the woman he brought with him to dad’s funeral. She’s stunning, there’s no denying that. Her smile’s infectious, even in a photo. She’s fit and toned—visions of her legs up around my waist while grabbing her long ponytail spear my mind.
I frown and furiously click over to another tab before exiting the photos. Salacious thoughts about a taken woman … it’s ridiculous.
Number one, I don’t date, ever, and number two she’s with Greyson and I’m not touching that no matter how much I hate him. Although … taking what my brother has like he did to me sounds wickedly tempting.
My real estate eye perceives the appeal while clicking through lengthy descriptions and reviews. Wide-open spaces, dense wilderness teeming with wildlife, the opportunity to become one—so to speak—with nature, and explore to your heart’s content while wielding bows, arrows, and guns like cowboys. Or rock climbing and praying you don’t plummet to your death. No thanks. It fit Greyson, though. Always the adventurous one out of the two of us. I played it safe. Too safe. He took advantage of it. Screwed me over and ruined any future I thought I had.
Shutting my laptop with a bang, I shove myself back from the desk. The clock glares at me with its large LED numbers. I have two hours until the meeting with my lawyers, and sitting here wallowing is no longer an option. Pulling my phone out from my pocket, I dial Niko’s number.
Twenty minutes later, we’re seated at Sal’s, a local Italian restaurant. The smell of fresh bread and garlic is enough to put anyone into a food coma. The server takes our drink order and leaves us to peruse the menu. Murmurs of conversations waft in the air, mingling with the soft classical music playing in the background.
“How you holding up?” Niko eyes me over the menu, the question there behind his brown eyes. He knows about the will and the stipulations my father left me.
“I’m fine.”
He cocks an eyebrow, not buying it. He’s my closest and probably only friend. We met in middle school, bonding over video games and microwavable pizza. I roll my eyes, opening up my napkin to place it in my lap.
“Yeah, well, I have my team of lawyers coming over this afternoon to find some loopholes.”
“What happens if they don’t find any?” Niko asks, taking a drink of water. The server comes back to take our order and menus. I pause, drumming my fingers on the table, impatient for her to leave. Once she’s out of listening range, I throw my hands up at his question.
“Then I guess I’m screwed if I don’t go to Montana.”
“Was it really that bad seeing him again after all these years?”
I tense my jaw. “Niko, you know what he did, you were there too. Could you get over that?” Taking my drink, I chug it, slamming the glass back down on the table. A few customers slide their heads in my direction, but I pay them no mind.
“Look, P, you know I got your back. I just think maybe it’s time you try to move on. Maybe go to Montana and figure that shit out between you and Grey. You’re unhappy. Maybe this is your chance to change things.” The server brings over our food, and he happily digs in. I mull over what he said, rolling a cherry tomato with my fork in the dressing.
“I’m not unhappy. Money isn’t a concern. I can have any woman I want in my bed and not have to worry about signing up for anything permanent. Best of all worlds.” Stabbing my salad with my fork, I grimace. It doesn’t taste as good as it looks.
“Yeah, yeah we all know about your extracurriculars, dude.” Nico rubs an eyebrow and pushes his glasses back up his narrow nose. “The point is, you’re lonely and maybe you need to just suck it up and resolve things with your brother. It’s time. But, hey, it’s your life, you do what you want. Just think about it.”
Lunch concludes with mostly small talk about basketball, stock markets—more my style—and making plans for the fourth of July if I could even leave the damn state once I’ve stepped foot in it.
The meeting with the attorneys turned out to be fruitless. My father was right. He thought of everything. I have no viable choice. One of them claps me on the shoulder on the way out in sympathy. I don’t want pity. I want to continue living like I always have. Everyday people walk the streets below me, oblivious to anyone else. I’d trade lives with one of them in a heartbeat.
Alone in the conference room, my gaze lands on a Lee Corp coffee mug that was left empty on the table behind me. My action impulsive, I hurl it into the wall, the ceramic shattering into tiny pieces, mirroring my chaotic state of mind.
Staring at the mess I made with my hands behind my head, a thought washes over me. I can go to Montana and handle it like I always do, like a professional. I’m the one with the number sense, not Greyson. A year? That’s nothing in the business world. I got this. One year and I’m gone; back here and back to my life. My heart’s beating fast—I have a plan and for the first time since they dropped the bomb … I have a purpose.
Animated, I rush from the room, only slightly aware I left a mess for the custodian, and fire up my laptop. Getting comfortable in my chair, I make a list. The first thing to do is to send out an email to the employees at SoS, letting them know of my arrival and my expectations, along with a staff meeting. I’ll keep it brief and impersonal. Piece of cake.
2
SAVANNAH
Ouch.
The burn from my sip of coffee lights my tongue on fire. Fanning my mouth, I open the fridge and balance my phone in the crook of my neck, grabbing the milk to cool my brew down. I’m running late and don’t have time to savor my drink like I do most mornings.
“Lynn, no, I’m not yanking your chain, the Preston Lee is coming to Montana to work with Grey.”
Lynn questions the use of my eyes and I reply, “Um, yes, I’m aware he looks like Adonis. I work with his brother, the rugged version of a god.”
She swoons over my news, and I chuckle. She’s right. Even though I viewed him at a distance during the funeral, Preston resembles a Greek statue with a jawline that could cut glass, a roman straight nose, dreamy eyes, and wavy dark hair that honestly screams high-end haircare. Don’t get me started on those lips.
For being identical, I never had
that knee-jerk reaction to Grey. He’s certainly beautiful himself, but Preston’s piercing gaze at the funeral sizzled right through me like my dad’s bacon on a griddle. He had this stern, broody vibe that drew me in. I’d be more than curious if it wasn’t for the fact he looked ready to rearrange Grey’s head on a pike. Remind me not to get in the middle of those two.
“Savy, are you still there?”
Switching the phone to my other shoulder, I grab a few snacks for my break later. “Sorry, I was lost in thought. The elusive Mr. Lee will arrive tomorrow. According to Greyson, he plans to be here for about a year. He didn’t give me any more details than that. Guess, their dad wanted them to work together. They aren’t very close from what I’ve picked up on in conversations with Grey, so this should be interesting.”
“Hm, well I’m a little jealous of you getting to work with two gorgeous guys when I’m all by my lonesome with Ben and Jerry for company and the Bachelorette re-runs.” She sighs and rustling noises invade my ears.
“You can always come to visit me and take archery lessons.” I know she hates the sport. Even though we grew up together, she’d rather be cooking than playing with a bow and arrow.
“I may have to make an exception for my best friend … show those bad boys what this redhead can do with a weapon. I would totally look like Merida from that Disney movie, wouldn’t I? The one where she turns her mom into a bear? Hah, I can see it now, I’d make a complete fool out of myself. How about I just leave the archery up to you and carry your quiver or whatever the fuck that thing is. Like a caddy in golf,” she cackles.
“Yes, a quiver. You’d be a badass archer, don’t sell yourself short. Listen, I gotta go. I have a client in ten. Please, please come out sometime, you’ll love it, I promise!”
