To mind their own business.
“Um, I don’t know, Mom.” I set my plate down and start rubbing my temples to avoid the headache I know will come once we hang up.
“Well, Amalia, you aren’t making things any easier for us. Your father and I have worked very hard to keep our family name in good standing.”
I grit my teeth. Usually, there is more small talk before she dives right in. Maybe she is on a tight schedule.
“What do you mean, Mom?” I ask.
She sighs like it’s theatre class. “Oh, you know. Working at that flower cart of yours does not do much for us. We already let you choose that silly major of yours, and nothing came of it, just like I said.”
“I… I don’t work at a flower cart, it’s a reputable business. And I was published in multiple research journals, things just take time in my field, and I—”
“Oh Amalia,” she cuts me off in my stuttering, and I choke on my words. “I really don’t have time. I just called to tell you about the regatta gala this weekend. Will you be coming?”
My mouth hangs slack as I still reel from the way she cut me off. I shouldn’t be surprised, in fact, I should be so used to it that I’m immune by now. But it’s my mom, and it will always hurt that I don’t live up to her arbitrary expectations or that she knows and cares nothing about me.
“I may not have time to go up there.” I sigh through my budding anger.
“Time? You have to come, everyone is expecting you. I have also arranged for you to meet with Mr. and Mrs. Baxter’s son, you remember him?”
I groan internally recalling the horrid Christmas holiday I went home and was practically paraded around to Chase Baxter. My mother still thinks this is the fifties or something, or maybe even before that. History wasn’t my best subject. But I am still expected to be refined in all subjects and know when to be quiet about certain ones.
“Yes, I remember. I don’t think I’ll be coming this year. You can tell all your friends I’m busy at… my flower cart.” I clench my jaw and the hand not holding the phone. Rubbing my temples isn’t working anymore, the headache is already here.
“Amalia, do not be crass. I only want to find you a respectable way of life. One day you’ll see that I have been right all along. For now, I have to go. This conversation has taken up so much of my day.” I feel her smile that sneering, icy-cold, exterior smile she has perfected. Her best one for when what she really wants to do is flip you off. “I will have to call you some other time. Hopefully, you have found your senses by then.”
“Okay. Bye, Mom,” I say, a curt tone masking my voice.
“Mmm hmm. Bye, bye, Amalia.”
When the line goes dead, my body nearly shakes from how angry and hurt I am. I toss my phone aside and wish it would just explode right with me. I hate how cold and distant she is, and I hate that I care. I know how much she hurts me, and yet I still pick up the phone and talk to her hoping the conversation will be better than the last. At this rate, it’s getting worse. I don’t know what I’ve done wrong to make her treat me this way.
It wasn’t always like this. I think things were last normal when I was in eighth grade. Maybe it all changed when I got older, but I can’t relate it to anything. I just feel like a pile of dirt she stepped over, but some lingered on her shoe, and she has been trying to shake me off all the way down the street of my life.
And so, my tears fall freely as I huddle up on the couch hugging myself in. It’s been bad enough being disappointed in myself after missing out on so many opportunities, feeling like I could have done more to find a good job in my field. Having my mom top off every insecurity of mine isn’t ideal, and it sucks. I am almost convinced no one has problems with their mother like I do. My dad really doesn’t understand. He adores both of us, so essentially, we can do no wrong.
My sobs end up racking for how unfair this all is. I’ve got no job prospects, according to my mother I need a boyfriend, and my roommate lives to avoid me.
The front door opens and shuts, and I sit up quickly, increasing the television volume to quell my lingering sobs. I don’t look as I hear Alec pass behind me to the kitchen. I focus on the episode of Friends and plan to wait it out until he hides in his room, and I can finish crying.
Instead, he comes around the side of the living room, and I see him in the corner of my eye. With dark slacks and a white button-up, his tie in its signature loose position, I lick my dry lips and turn my head softly to find him staring at me. It’s obvious I’ve been crying, so I can’t hide it from him. The intensity behind his eyes wouldn’t let me if I could.
“What?” I finally say. My voice croaking, cracking before I can even finish. My eyes betray me, and they let more tears fall as I wipe them away with the sleeve of my sweater.
I huff and shake my head as Alec steps closer until he sits next to me on the edge of the green couch cushion.
“Are you okay?”
“What do you care?” I regret my words immediately and cross my arms around myself as if I can keep myself at bay.
“I don’t know, I just do. What happened?” His deep voice slices through me and removes my mother’s voice from ringing in my ears.
“My mom happened.” I bother the sleeve of my sweater to avoid his gaze. The fabric is just like me, stretching and stretching until it’s on the verge of breaking.
“Did she die?” He lowers his voice, and I almost smile.
“No. She isn’t dead, she’s just…” I turn to look at him, and he doesn’t waver from my gaze for once. Maybe he hit his head on the grid today and is finally acting normal. I don’t care what brought it on, I’m just glad I don’t have to be alone right now.
“My mom is one of those types. Can’t please her for anything.” I sniffle.
“I know what you mean.” Alec loosens his tie even more and leans onto the back of the couch.
“Are you just saying that?”
“No.” He scoots closer to me. As I sniffle, I inhale his scent, and it floods over me like a blanket—just wrapping me up, warming me up. It isn’t right, or even fair that it does. But here he is, the man who goes out of his way to avoid me, confusing me again and showing up like he cares about me.
“I mean it. I have the same relationship with my mom. What did she tell you?”
I almost want to scream as I remember. “That I’m wasting my time working at a flower cart. That I’m a disappointment. And to set me up with this stuffy, financial advisor. She hates me, and she makes it sound nice with her pretty pitched voice.” I stumble over my words and go back to trying to rub my headache away.
“I’m sorry, Mia.”
I almost smile at the name I’ve chosen for myself, and the way it sounds rolling off his tongue.
“Thanks.” I look at him crouched forward to look at me.
His eyes soften just a bit, and I see more behind them than I ever have before.
“Now my mom isn’t nearly as bad as yours, but she still has time.” His lips twitch with a smirk, and I curl my lips in as I try not to smile back. But I lose.
“My mom wasn’t always like this. I don’t know, maybe one day when I get the right job and find the right guy, she’ll leave me alone.” I roll my eyes, that’ll be the day.
“Maybe. But you can’t do things to please other people, you’ll grow sick of yourself.”
I nod once. “Is that what happened to you?” I don’t think before I speak, once again.
“You could say that, yeah.” His voice lowers.
Thinking neither of us realized how close we have shifted on the couch, I don’t move from my spot dangerously close to him. Where my knee almost brushes his, and his face is inches from mine, I feel more at peace than I have in months. It could be temporary, especially from Alec, so I savor it. I savor the heat of his body close to mine and the way his eyes hide all his secrets while they search for mine. I don’t want this feeling to go away, not even if he avoids me again, or if I try and avoid him because I don’t want
anything to complicate my life.
At least before, that’s what I thought. But if it’s Alec, complication might be okay.
7
Alec
I look into her eyes and realize it’s the first time I’ve looked into anyone’s eyes for so long. I forgot how it would feel. Her deep brown globes of chocolatey eyes remind me of how lonely I’ve been, and that I should be careful.
I didn’t plan on getting involved with anyone at all.
“I, uh, have some things to take care of.” I had to lean away before I end up just leaning closer to her. The sweetness of her scent swirled too close to me—a unique mix of vanilla and the aroma of flowers of some sort.
I watch her eyes flash with something, and her cheeks darken as she blinks the moment away. “Oh, okay,” she stutters, tugging the sleeves of her sweater as she shifts on the couch. “Thanks. For listening.” She smiles softly, and I return it before I stand.
“Sure thing.” I stare down at her and try to think of something appropriate to say, but nothing comes to mind. So, I awkwardly clear my throat, turn away, and look back at her once before I retreat to my room.
Once inside, I shut the door behind me leaning against it as I blow out a much-needed breath. I comb my fingers through my hair, scratching it out like I can remove the feelings taking over my body. I wondered what I was thinking, but I couldn’t resist getting close to her. Seeing her upset… the first thing I wanted to do was comfort her, and I haven’t comforted anyone in so long, if ever.
Mia is sweet and kind. She doesn’t need my complicated life messing her up. I only came here to start over. Alone. I need to remind myself of that.
I change into gym clothes with the intention to run and lift out my frustration. I tiptoe back down the stairs like some coward, avoiding Mia. Perhaps I am. I didn’t come here, to this small town, with the intention of meeting anyone. But at the point when I leave the gym, heading back to the condo, I realize I don’t know why the hell I came here.
When I take my phone off do not disturb since I put it there this morning, I see that my brothers have been reaching out, Holden especially. He was always the one to hold things together between the lot of us. Between Mother’s and Father’s Day, he’d always organized how we would make breakfast and arrange the gifts. He planned Dad’s funeral. My older brother, Jeffrey, is a doctor and was on call when Dad came to the hospital after having a heart attack. I was at the estate trashing his office and drinking his liquor because I was so angry.
I don’t think I’ve even mourned properly.
Looking into Mia’s eyes as she confided in me told me I was broken because I couldn’t even equate her problems to mine.
I beat my 6:30 a.m. alarm and start getting ready for work. I like going to the office early because I can avoid everyone and then leave early. Everything is routine—fight morning wood to piss, brush my teeth, shower, find ironed slacks and a neutral shirt to match a black tie. Today it’s a light blue shirt to match my somber mood. I’ve noticed in the past few weeks that Mia is never up this early. So, it’s just me in the kitchen when I mix my protein shake and leave.
The sun is already up, a morning glow behind it as it shines down on the dew that formed on my car overnight. I briefly consider getting a different car or simply not driving a rental at all. But I can’t shake the part of me that this place might be temporary. The only thing that makes me think otherwise is Mia, and that comes with more unknown than I think I can deal with right now.
Pulling into the empty parking lot, I give a heavy sigh before I get out and trek to the corner office. As usual, the place is empty—nothing but the hum of computers and beeping of all the tech machines. I understood machines better than I ever understood people. Growing up, I was a loner, kept to myself, and took stuff apart just to put it back together. I wonder why I can’t put myself back together since I’m so good at it.
I go through two team meetings and another with just the senior engineers and myself. We have a new contract for an overseas company needing communications and satellites designed and built. It was simple for me, but I just hated having to explain stuff to the sales representatives in a way they would understand. I power through, eat a power bowl for lunch at my desk, and start ticking away at the designs. The weird layout of it reminds me of Mia—the plot lines, different colored wires tangled up like vines. It’s how our porch looks… our? That’s the first time I’ve thought that.
The sentiment is ruined by my cell ringing with a tone I programmed to warn me of my brother. Holden.
“What? I’m at work.”
“How cute, little Alec is working. Unless you’re running a company, I doubt you’re as busy as I am.”
“Is that why you’ve called? To remind me you run the family business now.” I frown. Leaning back in my chair, I swivel around as I comb through my hair in frustration. I wish phone calls with my brother didn’t make me want to pull my hair out now, but they do.
“No. I just got off the phone with Troy.”
I cringe. Troy is the family estate lawyer, and the one who handles all our assets, including Dad’s will. It gives me chills knowing that this secret has torn me from my dad, even in the afterlife, and my mom who always seemed like she could never do any wrong. Not like this.
“Yeah. And?” I catch the deeper tone of my voice in my throat.
“We have about thirty days left before the will becomes unresolved, making everything go into estate collections.”
I feel him frowning, the gears churning in his head. I could always read Holden, always know what he’s thinking.
“And that includes this business. The board would have to vote on a new CEO and transfer ownership. You know they never liked me. The houses, money, everything will be gone if you don’t sign it.”
“I know all that, H. I just can’t…” I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to find the right words to say to him. “If I could tell you why I wasn’t signing it, you would understand. But until I know everything, I can’t put the family at risk by saying anything yet. There is a lot more to it than me just being stubborn.” I roll my eyes at myself.
If my decision were any easier, I know I wouldn’t be in this situation. The last thing I want to do is ignore my brothers. My mother. Because at the end of the day, we are all still family. And Dad is still gone, and I don’t think this is what he would have wanted to leave behind.
“I know you have your reasons. I just wish you trusted me enough to tell me.”
“I do. But the others are good at prying shit out of you. Especially Jeffrey and Carson.” If I had an outline for all my brothers and their attributes, it would take up an entire notebook. But with Jeffrey being the second oldest and a surgeon, he has his way about things with us. We all do.
I quickly realize I miss my brothers. Even when I was home and didn’t live at the estate, we still had family dinners and saw each other at least once a week. When we were all together, we felt it that Isaac was gone, and Grayson was deployed in the Air Force. There was a time when we were the seemingly perfect family that everyone envied, but the last few weeks taught me never to take things at face value anymore.
“I guess. This just doesn’t feel right. We never kept secrets.”
“I thought the same thing about Dad,” I speak too quickly.
“So, it has to do with Dad, then? He gave us all equal shares of his operating stock.”
I almost laugh. “It’s not about the money. But a little bit about Dad, yeah.” I sigh. “And Mom.”
He sighs, and I hear it echo, so I know he is in his office. Dad’s office. I haven’t even seen Holden since he assumed the position, and I wonder what he looks like in Dad’s old office. I’m missing a lot even though I’ve never missed anything. I wonder if I’m making the right choice closing myself off and trying to pursue this. My parents have always been good to me, always given me what I needed and more.
It shouldn’t matter, but it just does.
“Ok
ay then, Alec. Well, do you have a time frame? Maybe I can get Troy to find a loophole. He did it for Isaac.”
My brows come together in surprise. “Isaac was in the will?”
“Yeah. Yeah, he is.”
I don’t know why I expected him not to be. No one has seen or heard from him in ten years since he left the house when he was twenty, and I was only thirteen. But we never forgot about him, and I remember Dad always talking to a PI every month to see if they had found him. He went through twelve, and no one could.
“Well, I’m happy about that.”
“He didn’t even come to the funeral.” Holden softens his voice, and I feel his hurt from here.
“I don’t think he even knows. Unless he’s watching from a distance but still hiding,” I say.
“Maybe you’re right. So, are you at least going to come home for the holidays? Mom calls me every day asking about you. She doesn’t even ask about me. You were always her favorite,” he scoffs and laughs once.
I shake my head to myself thinking maybe I wasn’t her favorite. Maybe she was just keeping an eye on me because she had to.
“Yeah, right. And that’s two months away.”
“Still. I’m hoping you’ll be done moping by then. You’ve always been moody, but this is extreme. Where do you even live?”
“A small town. Quiet.” I think of Mia and moving in with her. I don’t know why I do, but she jumps into my mind. Maybe she just never really left.
“Well. It suits you. Do you at least have friends up there? You aren’t a nut case in your room pissing in bottles?”
I really laugh then. “No, I’m not. But I don’t have friends, no. Just my roommate.” It feels weird to refer to Mia that way, but that’s what she is.
“Who is he?”
I chortle. “Uh, it’s a she.”
Holden laughs. “What is this? Jersey Shore? Why are you living with a chick?”
I roll my eyes. “Because there were no other condos, and when I signed a lease for the condo, I didn’t know someone else was living there already.”
Wilde About Alec - The Brothers Wilde Series Book One Page 4
