Still, he’s my dad, and I wouldn’t change a thing about him.
Finally, after what feels like hours, Tony calls.
“I’m sorry about all of this, Alana,” he mutters. “But we’ve solved the mystery. Mr. Winston sent someone to collect his dry cleaning earlier today,” he informs me, sounding pleased with himself. “I called him myself to confirm it.”
What? He already had someone pick it up? I punch the ground next to me, annoyed. I close my eyes and will myself to stay calm because it’s not just Chase I’m annoyed at. Tony called Chase after I specifically asked him not to?
“Fine,” I say, clenching my teeth. “Thanks for letting me know.”
I drag myself up from the ground and stalk back over to the café to order another coffee, tossing my empty cup in the trash along the way.
After battling even crazier traffic on the way back, I stumble into the office just before five, with what I’m sure is now a stone-cold coffee. I glance at the clock and curse under my breath. I’ve been gone for nearly two hours. My extreme absence hasn’t gone unnoticed with Jade. She stares at me and just shakes her head like there are no words suitable to describe how incompetent she thinks I am. My anger rises because this is not my fault. If he’d fucking told me I didn’t need to get his damn shirts, I could’ve walked the block down from the office to one of his other approved coffee providers. I’m going to fucking kill him.
Well, I would if I could work up the nerve to face him after what he heard me say this morning.
“Where are his shirts?” she hisses at me.
“He had someone else collect them this morning,” I reply defensively, gritting my teeth.
She, of all people, should have known that. It was probably her that went down to get them. She looks confused, but then just shakes her head and storms back over to her desk. It’s taking all my resolve not to follow her and tell her exactly what I think of her when her phone buzzes loudly on the desk. She snatches it up and lifts it to her ear, barking hello. She nods, scowling at me, and then carefully places the phone back on the receiver, before turning to me.
“Mr. Winston has requested that you bring him his coffee,” she says stiffly. “Even though he was expecting you back more than an hour ago, he would still like to see you.”
“Me?” I say, my mouth dropping open. I’m not sure I can face him right now without throwing his damn drink in his face. I’m still livid that he wasted half my day. “Why?”
“God, I don't know. What am I, his keeper?” Jade snaps.
“Well, yeah, I kind of thought you were,” I say sweetly.
She narrows her eyes at me and grits her teeth, looking like she’s seconds away from exploding. I know I’m baiting her, but at this point, I just don’t care anymore. This is by far the worst day I’ve ever had, and antagonizing Jade is just making it all a little bit brighter.
“Would you just take the damn coffee in so that we can all go home?” she huffs, throwing her arms up in annoyance.
Shaking my head, I storm out the door and across the hallway to Chase’s office. Five seconds ago, I was full of fire and ready to march in there and defend myself, but all that confidence has gone out the window, leaving me a quivering mess.
All I can think about is what happened this morning and what he must think of me. Get it over with. I take a deep breath and force myself into at least pretending I’m calm before I knock three times. My hands shake as I wait for him to answer.
“Are you going to stand out there all evening or come inside?" He eventually calls out to me. I wince as I catch the hint of irritation in his voice.
I turn the handle and take another deep breath as I push the door open and walk inside. I let go, jumping as the door closes with a loud bang. I’m clutching his coffee so tightly that I'm afraid I'm going to drop it, but somehow, I manage to hold my head up high.
“Your coffee,” I say, walking toward him.
I look him right in the eye, even though I feel like I'm about to trip over my heels at any moment. He glares at me, and I glare right back, hoping I look more collected than I really am because inside, I’m pretty sure I’m about to shit myself. I set the cup down on his desk and step back, placing my hands behind my back so he can’t see how tightly they’re clenched.
“No dry cleaning?” he asks, lifting his eyebrows.
I frown when I see the tiniest smirk on his lips. God, I want nothing more than to slap that smirk clean off those lips. He reaches for his coffee and examines it, then returns to staring at me.
“Thank you for the beverage," he adds, “I don’t recall requesting an iced coffee, but I guess it’s better than nothing, right?” He raises his eyebrows when I don’t answer.
“I guess,” I mutter, finding my voice.
“So,” he says, glancing at me again. “Is there a reason you’re not weighed down with my freshly pressed shirts?”
He takes the lid off the cup and frowns as he examines the contents. I stand there, my anger growing by the second. Seriously? What the hell does he think I've done? Tried to poison him?
“What, are you checking for those laxatives?” I snap, creasing my eyebrows. “And I’m not weighed down with your shirts because you already had someone else pick them up, remember?”
“Oh. Right,” he says, nodding slowly, a glint in his eye. “My mistake. I guess it slipped my mind. And as for whether I think you may have tampered with my drink?” He shrugs, his eyes gleaming. “After this morning, why would I trust you at all?” He holds the cup out to me. “Do me a favor? Take a sip.”
“Are you serious?" I ask him with a laugh. Then I frown because I’m not sure whether to take it from his hands or not. “You really believe that I might have drugged it?"
“No. I just get off on watching women drink my coffee," he retorts in a deadpan tone.
“Fine,” I sigh.
If it will shut him up. I snatch the cup from his hands and gulp down half its contents. Smiling at him, I hand it back. He frowns when he sees most of his coffee is gone.
“Satisfied?" I ask sweetly.
“Almost," he murmurs. He motions to the chair on the other side of his desk. “Sit down," he commands. I do as I’m told, still cringing over earlier and not sure what he wants with me now, other than to embarrass me further.
“Are you happy working here, Alana?" he asks.
He shifts forward in his seat and runs his hand over the light stubble covering his jawline, which sends a shiver down my spine. What I wouldn’t give to be the one running my hand over that. God, I can feel my nipples hardening at the thought.
I stare at him, remembering he just asked me a question. His eyes are serious like he’s given this a lot of thought. I don’t care how unhappy I might seem, I never expected him to be the person who noticed. I hesitate, not sure whether to be honest with him about this or not.
What have I got to lose?
At this point, I'm probably a couple of sentences away from being fired anyway.
“I'm happy,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “I just wish you would give me more responsibility. All I seem to do is fetch your coffee and collect your dry cleaning—”
“You returned without my shirts and with a cold coffee,” he reminded me.
“Neither of which were my fault,” I say defensively. “You had someone else pick them up already. You sent me out chasing my tail around for no other reason than to amuse yourself.”
“Well, that’s not entirely true,” he murmurs, his lips creeping into a grin. “How else would I have gotten this delicious coffee?” I narrow my eyes at him, and his smirk widens. “Alana, have you read the job description for your role? If anything, letting you handle the responsibility of fetching my coffee is a step up.”
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” I say, not bothering to hide my annoyance any longer. I’m about five promotions overqualified for the role I’m in now, and he knows it. “Fire me, don’t fire me, I don’t care. But I’m not going
to sit here and let you walk all over me.”
“Okay, the dry cleaning was just an innocent mistake on my part,” he replies, folding his arms across his chest. “But how can I give you more responsibility when you’ve repeatedly shown me that you can't even get the simplest of tasks right?" he asks. He picks up his cup and drinks the rest of his coffee. “Like my coffee, for example.”
“Excluding today, one time in probably three or four hundred coffees, I’ve forgotten to get your goddamn sugar, and that's your reasoning behind not recognizing what I can do?” I practically shout. Tears sting my eyes, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry.
Breath, Alana. Don’t let him win this.
My fingers fidget in my lap as I try to control my tears. I do not want to lose my grip in front of him because it’s exactly what he wants. All I want to do is get out of there because this guy is a psychopath.
“Was there anything else you wanted me for?” I ask, my voice cold. “Because I have an appointment to get to.”
“An appointment?" he asks in his most patronizing tone. “Well, I wouldn't want to keep you from something so important," he murmurs.
I glower at him, wanting nothing more than to punch the sparkle out of his eyes.
“You're free to go, Alana, but I think we should schedule a performance review so we can discuss our issues in greater detail,” he says. He sits back in his chair and smirks at me. “Say, next week?"
I nod, trying not get flustered under his intense stare.
“Thank you,” I mutter, even though I still think he’s the one in the wrong.
I stand and walk over to the door, aware that his eyes are still on me. I shiver and walk out, refusing to look back. I only let myself relax once I’m safely back in my office and that door is shut. Thank god everyone else has already gone. I walk over to my cubical and slump into my chair, planting my head face down on the desk.
Holy shit, that was intense.
What a giant asshole. Adrenaline surges through my body, and all I want to do is scream. After that, I have a sudden newfound respect for Jade. I have no idea how she manages to put up with him day after day.
Hell, I struggled with the last five minutes.
Chapter Three
Chase
I watch her thoughtfully as she leaves my office, my eyes falling on her ass as she sashays across my floor. Does she know how sexy she looks in that skirt? Never mind the fact that it’s a modest length at almost to her knee, it’s so fucking tight that it just clings to her curves, making her ass look like it’s ready to burst out. Then there’s that creamy white shirt that’s just sheer enough to give me the slightest glimpse of her bra. I sit forward as she closes the door, trying to control my erection, but it’s no use.
I glance at my phone. It’s after five, so technically I’m done for the day, so I see no reason not to relieve a little tension. In my defense, I’m not in the habit of yanking it out at work and going to town on myself, but today has been a shit of a day. One I want to try and forget about any way I can.
“At least it’s nearly fucking over,” I mutter to myself.
Reaching down, I lower my zipper, sliding my fingers around my length and letting it bounce free. With a groan, I lean back in my chair and pump my fist along my shaft, imagining Alana on her knees in front of me, taking my length into her mouth. The whole time I was talking to her, all I could focus on was those pouty, red lips.
Alana. I shake my head and smile as my fingers work my dick. Until today, I thought her name was Melissa. In fact, I’m pretty sure I called her that a few times. Alana suits her so much better.
Hearing her say those things about me in her office, listening to her talk about my cock like that, made me hard as fuck. I’d gotten nothing done all day because all I could think about was her. And just now, the way she stood up to me? Major turn-on.
I am so sick of women telling me what they think I want to hear and then just falling to their knees, ready to do whatever I ask of them. That had been Jade in a nutshell. Her second day here, her mouth was on the end of my cock, whether I wanted it or not. It was fine for a while, but I got bored like I always do. I needed a challenge. Something to distract me, someone, where there’s no risk of feelings developing, because inevitably, that’s what always ruins things for me. My requirements definitely were not something that any woman I associated with could satisfy. Hell, I wasn’t even sure Alana was up to the challenge, but at least she showed potential.
I block all thoughts of everything except Alana out of my head as my orgasm builds. I groan, stroking my cock, while my other hand wraps around the edge of the desk. I lever myself forward, my throat constricting as I come.
“Fuck,” I hiss. My fists tightens around my girth as I release, groaning as I come hard into my hand.
Breathing heavily, I clean myself up, thankful that Alana had the foresight to bring me extra napkins with my coffee. She must’ve known I’d be whacking off to her the moment she left me alone. Hell, if I thought I could get away with it, I’d have done it with her sitting right there.
Breathing hard, I tuck myself back in and buckle up my pants, just as someone pounds on my door. I jump up, thanking God they weren’t just a few minutes earlier, or that would’ve really ruined my day.
“Yes,” I growl.
The door swings open. I look up and double take when I see Josh walking toward me. Holy shit. I came so hard I’m seeing things. But no, he’s really there, smiling at me like we’re old friends. He sits down.
“Chase. How are you?”
He asks like it hasn’t been nearly two years since I last saw him. He almost has me fooled that he doesn’t care how I’m going to react, but the look in his eyes gives him up. He’s terrified. Just as he fucking should be. I sit back in my chair and frown at him, not saying a word.
“Josh,” I say, my tone stiffer than my dick had been only minutes before. “I can say with all honesty that you’re the last person I expected to walk into my office tonight.”
“Chase…” He sighs as I lift my eyebrows. He at least has the decency to look ashamed, though not keeping in contact is pretty low on the list of shit my brother has done to me. “I’ve been wanting to call you. I’ve just been so busy with work and stuff,” he mumbles.
“Stuff being my ex-wife?” I ask, an edge in my voice. “How is Casey, by the way?”
“She’s fine,” Josh replies. To his credit, he’s not letting me bait him into an argument. “You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” he asks, studying me.
“Should I be making this easy for you, Josh?” I ask, keeping my voice calm.
The funniest thing about all of this is that he’s oblivious to what today is. At least I hope he is because turning up in my office, on my wedding anniversary is a bit of a cunt move.
“Considering the circumstances, yes,” he replies, answering my question. He stands and wanders over to the window. “Playing the victim doesn’t suit you, Chase. You were just as much in the wrong as we were. Maybe even more so.” He frowns and turns to face me. “Anyway, I’m not here to dig up the past.”
“Really,” I say. I watch him suspiciously because I’m not sure I believe that. “So why are you here, then?”
He hesitates and then turns away again. I sigh, because all I want to do is shake answers out of him. Why can’t he just get it out? Say what he has to say and then fuck off?
“Hey, do you want to go out somewhere? Get a drink?” he suddenly asks. “They’re playing some live music down at The Jazz Bar. Maybe we could head there, for old times’ sake?”
A drink?
I swallow a laugh, and then shrug, pretending that him turning up after all this time hasn’t brought back a whole heap of painful memories. Things I thought I’d forgotten, or at least, moved on from. I want to kick him out, but on the other hand, I don’t want him to see how much his impromptu visit is getting to me. If a drink is all I need to do for him to leave me alone for
another two years, then I’ll take it.
“Sure,” I finally say. “Let’s go.”
Neither of us says much as he drives us over to the bar. I glance out the window of his Merc—ironically, the same one I caught him fucking my wife in—pretending I give a damn about whatever it is he has to say. But I do care, don’t I? I’m so conflicted, because as much as I hate what he did to me, he’s still my brother. And my only living family member.
“How’s work?” he asks, attempting small talk.
“Busy,” I murmur.
He takes the hint and stops trying to engage me in bullshit, pointless small talk. Both of us remain silent the rest of the drive until we pull into the parking lot behind the bar. We get out and walk inside. I’m impressed to see that not much has changed, and it’s still the quiet little place that I remember. It’s located on the far side of town, so not many people know about it. Especially since there’s been a big influx of trendy bars closer to the city. Little places like this had been overlooked, and although it sucked for them from a business sense, it suited me down to the ground. I hate crowds almost as much as I hate socializing.
We find ourselves a table. I order a scotch while Josh orders a beer. Catch-ups like this used to be a regular thing and something that I looked forward to, but they haven’t happened in a long time. We used to hit this very place nearly every weekend, but that was before life and work became more important than family. Before everything went to shit with Casey.
A break-up is messy enough, but when your brother falls in love with your wife, it jumps to a whole new level of complicated.
I Can Explain Page 2
