by M Dauphin
“You feeling better?” He asks from his spot on the couch, not making a move to grant my request.
“Yea. Thanks.” I nod, tucking my hair behind my ear. “So uh… if you have some shorts and a t- shirt... I can get them back to you. Or mail them. Or something.” Why am I being so awkward right now?
“Absolutely. On one condition, however,” he says, standing and walking over to me. He stops just short of running into me, his body so close I can smell his cologne, and wonder when he had time to smell so delicious this morning.
Or maybe that’s his normal smell?
“And what’s that?” I ask, way too breathily for my liking. He smirks and his hand comes to my cheek, cupping it, and looking straight into my eyes.
“Have dinner with me tonight to return them. Let me buy you food as a token of my apology for ruining that dress.”
I grin and bite my lip, averting my eyes to the dress on the floor next to us. Looking back at him, the lust swirling in his eyes right now is enough to make me want to drop the cloth and go at it again… but I really need a shower. And my own toothbrush.
“I’m busy tonight,” I lie.
“Then tomorrow. I’m free.” He shrugs. “Or you can go home in the sheet. Your call.”
He backs away from me and watches me, his face stern and hands shoved in his pocket. I let out a laugh and cock my head at him. When he doesn’t move to get me clothes, I nod.
“Alright. Tomorrow night, then. Now can I please have some clothes?”
I make it home just a little past eleven thanks to the cab driver that took a wrong turn and landed us in a traffic jam miles long. Trying to sneak into my brother’s condo is futile at this time of the day. Typically he’s at work by now but it’s the weekend and he’s definitely home and in the middle of a workout when I waltz through the back door, directly next to his in-home gym. I cringe to myself when the door slams and I hear the swift hits to the bag pause.
“Lo?” he calls out, and I roll my eyes, huffing as I walk to the gym door.
“Hey,” I manage softly, feeling like a child that blew way out of her curfew.
“Glad to see you’re okay,” he huffs, taking a long drink of water.
“Yea, sorry. My phone died. I’m alive!” I smile and raise my eyebrows at him. “I’m gonna hop in the shower and grab some food.” And get away from your judgy mc-judgerson eyes. I spin to leave but he stops me before I make it down the hall.
“Whose clothes are those, Lo?” Chris sounds so confused and I groan, turning back around quickly.
“A friends,” I say sweetly, smiling as I spin and speed walk to my room.
This suit does nothing for me. Or my body heat. Fuck this fucking thing’s hot! Who decides ‘hey this is what I want to have to wear to work every day?’ Who in their right fucking mind wakes up and thinks this is a great fucking way to spend their life?
Fuck!
“Hey man, he’s ready for you,” Carmen, the front desk male secretary that seriously needs to find a new profession, says to me from his seat. I nod curtly and walk back, back to the office my brother and I built from the ground up. The big glass doors, frosted for privacy, open and lead me into a new environment. It’s sterile in here. There are a few cubicle workers but everything else is separate offices. It smells way too clean and cold. Very cold. How is it that he works with something so crude and dirty as oil, but the office for this place looks like it’s never been touched?
And why is it too cold back here?
I was just fucking burning up, and now I’m cold. I think I’m losing my goddamned mind.
“Hey, Jett!” Stanley, one of my brother’s partners, announces from his office in the very back of the building. He stands from his desk and meets me at his door. “So good to see you, Jett. It’s… hell it’s been a week hasn’t it?”
“You could say that, yea. Why’re you working on a Saturday?”
“We’ve been swamped lately… since the incident. Trying to catch up on all the pots your brother had boiling before he die -” he pauses and looks at me with that look in his eyes then changes the subject. “Have a seat. Tell me all about the shop, how’s things going?”
I nod and look around, not one fucking picture of my brother on his corkboard. Not one thing in this office reminds me of my brother. Why does that make me so angry?
“Uh… yea the shop’s been going great. We contracted a few new bikes for a seller in Mexico a couple months ago on top of the currently running contract we have with the local PD department for upkeep so things are staying pretty busy, I guess.”
“Good. That’s good, I’m happy for you. It’s like you’re finally doing something you enjoy.” He smiles at me, a completely fake smile, and I narrow my eyes at him.
“So what’d you need from me, Stan? I thought I was clear this isn’t my thing?”
I was… I very vividly remember telling them all off when they tried roping me into being stuck in this business. Sure, I have the chemistry degree from Harvard, but that means jack shit to me. It wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life… I was simply doing what I thought they wanted me to do. Being the older brother and being told growing up I had to set a good example for Brandon, that’s just what I did. I realized shortly after starting this place up with him that it wasn’t what I wanted. He took half of my inheritance from my grandparents to help start this company. I worked my ass off for months until one day I realized this isn’t what I wanted to do with my life. I don’t want to climb a corporate ladder of greed and money. When I turned 28, I took my trust fund and set up the bike shop. It took me a few years of struggling but now I’m doing pretty well on my own, all things considered.
“Listen, I know you said you wanted out of all of this. Hell, you made your point loud and clear.”
“Right,” I nod, still in the dark about today’s meeting.
“Your name’s still on the documents as the legal owner of this company, Jett,” he huffs, sliding the papers over to me. My stomach drops and I pull the papers up to read over them. One after the other, each one listing my name, right next to my brother’s, where it shouldn’t be.
“I signed off on it being removed,” I all but growl. “I fucking signed the deal for the buyout… I’ve been getting the payments, Stan!”
“It was never finalized.” If the man could roll his eyes any harder they’d be out of his head by now. “This business… the business lifestyle? He always thought it was in your blood, Jett. He always wanted you back. Your fallout when this happened? It ruined him.”
“It’s in my… fuck! It’s in my fucking blood? Is dying too early in my blood too, Stan? Fuck!” I stand and start to pace. Un-fucking-believable.
“Your brother made it clear in his final will that you’d take over the company.” He clears his throat and slides the will across the desk. I storm over and pick up the piece of paper, my eyes darting to my brother’s not so manly scribe on the bottom. A growl builds inside me as I read the plan my brother has laid out in case his early demise would happen, listing me as the full beneficiary to the business.
“What about Paisley and the girls?” I whisper, sitting in the seat and taking it all in. This is too fucking much. This place will ruin me!
“They will still get his cut of the paychecks until the girls turn eighteen.” He leans back in his chair and clasps his hands in front of him. “So what’s going through your mind?”
“That my brother was a fucking idiot,” I grumble, setting the papers on the desk and wiping my hands down my face.
“Are you going to honor his wishes?”
I look at him and let out a strangled chuckle.
“Do I have a choice?”
“I mean we can always buy your portion out from under you, then remove your name from the company all together.” He shrugs and takes a drink of his coffee.
“And Paisley and the girls are still set? No matter my decision in the matter?”
“Unfortunately not. That’s the one
clause your brother was adamant to put in. You keep the company afloat and the girls get their money. You leave? They lose out.”
“What?” My fist slams to the desk, surprising Stan, and I stand. “That’s fucking blackmail! You can’t write blackmail into a will!”
“It’s his wishes, Jett. Are you going to go through with them or not?”
I narrow my eyes at this man, and though he’s the bearer of bad news I feel like this entire thing is his fault.
“I have no fucking choice, Stan.”
“Good,” he nods. “If you could sign right here.” He points to the bottom line on the papers in front of me but I can’t. The lines all blur together, I only got a chance to read about a paragraph of these. I can’t do this right now.
“Fuck no.” I blurt. “I have a shop to get in order, a manager to bring in and train, and apparently I need to freshen up on whatever the fuck it is that I’ll be doing here. That shit can wait,” I wave towards the office, grab the papers and storm out of the office, stupidly pissed.
“You have sixty days, Jett! Then it goes to court!” He yells after me as I storm away from him.
I head straight for my bike and rev the engine, pulling out into traffic faster than I should have but I need this release. This is what I need. Open road, open schedule, no firm daily plan or fucking suit wearing… all that shit isn’t for me. Now, though? Now I’ve gotten myself into something I don’t know if I can get out of. I mean, sure, I can take my name from it like I wanted so long ago, but can I do that to Paisley and the girls? No. Fuck to the no I can’t.
My phone rings, lighting up the visor in my helmet with Chris’s number, the one man I possibly could talk to about this shit, and I hit end, deciding to pay him a visit. I was never super close to him, but we didn’t get to talk yesterday and I know he and I both need it. Well… maybe I do more than him.
I make a U-Turn and head to the North of town, slowing as I pull into his parking garage.
Christopher Manners is the epitome of wealthy young adult that’s worked for his money. He’s powerful and intimidating, even if he’s almost five years younger than me.
“It’s Jett,” I say into the buzzer in the lobby of his condo. The doorman knows me, I used to fuck a chick on the seventh floor, so getting in was no problem. It’s getting up where I need help.
Ha! First time I’ve ever had that fucking problem.
“Come on up, man.” His voice rings loud and clear, unlocking the elevator and bringing me straight to the top.
This lifestyle of showing off your riches never was something I understood. We have money, sure, but I’ve always tried to live modestly. Who knows when something’s going to happen that makes you wish you didn’t have such an extravagant lifestyle. The shop could close any day and leave me with the measly few k a month from my brother’s company… then what?
The elevator doors open and I walk into the foyer of Chris’ condo right as he’s rounding the corner. Clean cut and clean shaven, the man even looks presentable on a Saturday when he’s lounging around the house. I’m over here dying in this suit and he’s in khakis and a white button down… his ‘relaxed’ look. Fuck man, my relaxed look is naked… how is it that I’m the older one between us?
Ha!
“Hey, Jett,” he says, bringing me in for one of those awkward as hell man hugs. I grunt, backing away as soon as I can and shove my hands in my pockets.
“I saw you called. I was out riding the area so I thought it’d be okay if I stopped by.”
“Of course. Come on, I’ll grab us a drink. You like scotch?”
“I do, but just water for me. Thanks.”
He walks into the kitchen and I make my way to the living room, taking a seat on the sofa. Holy hell this thing’s incredible.
“So I meant to stop and talk to you yesterday, but I really didn’t know what to say,” he says, walking in and setting my water on the coffee table.
“Thanks,” I mutter, picking it up just to have something to focus on.
“I’m sorry about your brother, Jett.” He finally says, breaking the silence.
“Yea, me too.” My eyes trained on the floor, I hear his shoes hit the hardwood as he walks over to the chair next to me and sits down.
“You holding up okay?”
“Perfect.”
“You know you can come to me if you ever need anything, right? I mean, we’re practically like brothers.”
I grit my teeth, jealousy of his closeness with my blood brother and claiming he’s a brother to me. I had one brother. He’s dead.
“Thanks, man.” I take a drink of water. “Hey listen… so Brandon’s company,” I say, fiddling with my water glass. “I need you to take a look at something and tell me if it makes any sense. Something seems sketchy to me.”
“Why’s that?” he growls.
“I guess since Brandon’s gone they finally have it all to themselves and they’re worried they won’t be able to keep it afloat on their own or something. That’s what it sounds like, at least. Either way, they told me my name’s still on the paperwork as part owner.” I look over at him and he nods. “You knew about this?”
“Yea. Brandon was adamant that you’d come back. He didn’t want to write you off.”
I bark out a harsh laugh and shake my head.
“Figures you’d know,” I grumble and he raises an eyebrow at me. “Well now they say if I don’t come back, Paisley and the girls lose their cut of the money they’re owed.”
“Excuse me?” Chris growls. “How is that legal? You’re not their legal guardian so your decisions shouldn’t affect them.”
“You’re the fucking lawyer, man! You tell me!”
“I’ll take a look at it.” He stands and walks down the hall, returning shortly with his laptop.
“So what’re you going to do in the mean time?” He never once looks up from his screen. If there’s one thing I know Chris is good at, it’s business and calling frauds out.
I don’t want my brother’s company, but I have a feeling whatever they pulled today isn’t the truth and it’s not legal. There’s no way my brother, knowing how I truly felt about working in that world, would have linked his daughters’ livelihood on mine. No fucking way.
“I mean I’m hoping you… we… can figure this out before I have to make a decision. I have sixty days.” Because the decision will be in favor of my beautiful nieces which in turn will destroy my happiness that I’ve worked so hard for.
“Absolutely.” He nods. “This all the paperwork they showed you today?” He holds up the pile of shit I handed him and I nod.
“I didn’t sign, Chris. I just… Fuck man. I don’t know what to do. Those girls are my world, I can’t do that to them. But I also have worked my ass off so I don’t have to be in that type of business anymore. That’s not me.”
He stops what he’s doing and looks over at me.
“Sometimes you have to do things for other people, Jett. That’s just how this world works.”
He says it with a sour tinge to his tone and I have no clue what he’s talking about. I always help people. Why do I feel so guilty for wanting to keep the happiness and lifestyle I’ve worked so hard for?
“Yea.” I stand, pulling my keys from my pocket. “I’m going to head out, thanks for listening to me whine, I’ll be in touch,” I say, heading for the elevator doors. His voice stops me before I can hit the button.
“Hey, about my sister,” he says from behind me. “Stay away from her.” I spin and everything from my childhood comes rushing back to me.
His sister.
Lo.
Well shit. I thought she seemed familiar last night, but the alcohol was fucking with my memory and honestly it’s been well over twelve years at least since I saw her last… and fuck if she doesn’t look a hell of a lot different now. .
I smile and chuckle.
“She’s a grown woman, Chris. You can’t control her.” I didn’t come here to get into a confrontation wit
h him… but I also plan on seeing his sister again. And again. And again. I won’t be deterred because he feels he needs to run her life.
He glares at me for a moment before clearing his throat and nodding.
“Right. That’s how it’s going to be?”
“Doesn’t have to be any way, Chris.” I shrug. “It is what it is.”
“Have a good day, Jett,” he grits out, body tense. I chuckle and spin, hitting the elevator button. When the doors open automatically I’m immediately grateful for not having to wait there, but it’s not until I’m out of Chris’s glare that I let a breath out.
Perfect, now I have him against me too.
Fuck! This week can blow itself.
As I hop onto my bike, a text from an unknown number comes through and I open it up and find myself grinning.
I stole your number while you weren’t looking earlier. Turns out I’m free tonight. I cleaned your clothes… when should I be prepared to return them? -Lo
I let out a small laugh to myself and hit reply.
I’ll meet you at six at the local market on 5th. Wear something comfortable. Bring something else. Who knows where the night will take us.
For some unknown reason I’m way too giddy for tonight. I shouldn’t be… but I can remember through the haze how much fun we had last night. This time I plan on not being plastered so I can remember even more of it. I know I told him I was busy tonight, but when I finally started feeling better this afternoon I realized I really… really… wanted to see him again. All it took was almost an entire day’s worth of sleeping.
I tuck his clothes into my large purse and turn off my computer. Heading out to the kitchen to grab a drink before leaving to meet him, I’m met with my brother in his best suit, sitting at the island staring at his phone.
“Where ya headed tonight, big bro?”
His eyes flick up to mine and he looks my outfit over. It’s warm outside… a tee and shorts are going to have to do.
“You feeling better?” He grunts, bringing his water glass to his lips.
“Yep,” I sigh. “It’s amazing what a shower and some sleep can do for ya. What’re you up to tonight?”
