No Coincidence

by Tiffany Patterson

  “You heard me. You need to be observed for a few more hours, including overnight, so it’s best you come back with us.”

  I shook my head adamantly. “That is not needed. Do not overreact to this, D. I’m fine. Yeah, my eye has seen better days, but in a day or so the swelling will have gone down and I’ll be back to my normal self.”

  “Yeah, in a day or so. And at that time, you can come back to your home. But for now, you need to be around family. We need to be close by to make sure you’re all right.”

  “D, I’m fine,” I reiterated again, tossing myself against the sofa and pouting. I truly didn’t have the energy to go up against Destiny and Tyler but I really didn’t want to leave my home. “How about this,” I proposed. “I’ll call you every hour on the hour so you know I’m fine? That way I can stay here and get some work done, and you two can go and tend to your day as you had planned.”

  I looked up at both Tyler and Destiny, hopeful.

  Destiny’s frown and Tyler’s look of displeasure spoke before their mouths moved.

  “Or, you could just stop being so damned stubborn and bring your ass over to our house like I just said.”

  My head fell to the back of the couch. “D, look, I’m fine. See?” I held my arms out wide and then touched the tip of my nose with each pointer finger one at a time, similar to that roadside test police use for suspected drunk drivers.

  “My full name is Resha Pilar McDonald. I live at 3340 Palmetto Drive, on the tenth floor, apartment letter C. My phone number is 512–”

  “Fine, and what’s the name of your favorite tailor?”

  “Mr. Kim, works right on the corner a few buildings down.”

  “And how long have you been going to him?”

  “For almost ten years. He’s how I found this great building before the condos were even on the market.” I smirked at my cousin cockily.

  “And when’s the last time you been to the gym?”

  “Ha! Trick question. I don’t go to the damn gym. Last time I went was in support of you a few months after you had the triplets. Damn near died in that damn Zumba class,” I scoffed, shaking my head.

  “Yeah, she’s her normal self, I suppose.”

  “Like I told you.”

  “Fine, we’ll just hire a nurse to come watch over you for the next twenty-four hours,” Tyler decided to add.

  “A nurse?” I shrieked, sitting up way too fast. Grimacing, I placed my hand to my head.

  “See,” Destiny yelped, moving to sit next to me, pressing her hand to mine. “You’re obviously feeling uncomfortable.”

  “It couldn’t possibly have anything to do with you two bullies standing over me, pressuring me to do as you say.”

  Destiny frowned. “We’re your family. And you’re coming home with us.”

  I sighed. “I know, D. I just don’t need the extra bruhaha made over nothing. I wanna forget last night ever happened.” A twitch in my chest told me I was lying because as soon as the words were free from my mouth an image of Connor staring back at me with his arms folded over his massive chest came to mind.

  No, I didn’t want to forget everything about the night before.

  The attack? Sure.

  Connor’s overbearing presence in my home and the way he cared for me from the moment he spotted me in that alley until he left my place a few hours earlier? Not so much.

  “Besides,” I continued, pushing thoughts of six-foot-six, blond, second generation Irishmen out of my mind, “you all have three kids. No offense, because I love my niece and nephews, but your house isn’t exactly, uh, quiet and conducive to someone potentially recovering from a brain injury.”

  Destiny turned to Tyler, and they exchanged a glance between them, as if considering my point of view.

  Tyler was the first to speak. “You’re right. The triplets are anything but quiet. So, then it’s settled …”

  I sighed, but my relief was too soon.

  “I’ll call the private nursing company my family uses. They’ll send someone over within the hour and we’ll sit with you until she arrives.”

  Destiny nodded, agreeing as if I didn’t need a say in who was to be coming and going in my own home.

  And like I said, I was starting to feel too tired to actually argue with either one of them. If allowing a nurse to come in and sit with me over the next twenty-four hours was what would get them off my back so be it.

  I kept quiet while Tyler and Destiny made the arrangements with whatever company they used for house calls. I was too busy plotting on exactly how I was going to get Connor back for going behind my back and ratting me out to my cousin.

  ****

  Connor

  Maybe I should’ve stayed with Resha. To make sure she was okay. I’d been having that same persistent thought all night and well into the next morning, as I prepared for a very important business meeting.

  Even after I’d called Tyler again and gotten reassurances from him that he and his wife had checked on her with their own eyes and that she was doing fine. He’d explained that Resha had refused to come home with them, so they’d opted to hire a private nurse to watch over her for the next day or so, in her home, just to double check that she was doing fine.

  Those assurances didn’t stop the persistent thought that it should’ve been me staying with her. A nurse was fine, sure, but I’d had experience with actually having a concussion. And Resha being as stubborn as she is, was less than likely to immediately speak up if she was feeling off or out of sorts. I reminded Tyler of that, and again, he’d assured me that Destiny knew her cousin well and would be keeping a diligent eye over her.

  “You ready for this?” Wilt, my attorney, questioned as I stepped off the elevator and into the hotel lobby.

  “I’m here, aren’t I?”

  He chuckled and shook his head, used to my attitude at these sorts of things. I hated business meetings, even lucrative ones. Hell, they all were lucrative, lest I wouldn’t be showing up to them, but I hated the hobnobbing that went along with it all.

  “You are definitely here. In your standard leather, jeans, and T-shirt.”

  “They can have me in my leather or not at all.”

  We passed through the glass doors of the hotel to be met by the chauffeur of our car.

  “Mr. O’Brien,” he greeted, holding the door open. He was the same driver we had the night before from the airport, which was how he immediately recognized me.

  “Thanks,” I grunted as he shut the door.

  “Did you have any last minute questions you wanted to go over before we step into this meeting?” Wilt inquired. It was something he always did when we were on our way to a business meeting.

  “You read the contract, right?”

  He nodded. “Read it over again last night in my room.”

  “And?”

  “I hold firm that it’s a solid contract. A few kinks to iron out, which I wrote out last night. But signing with Jersey’s will place TKO protein and supplements in thousands of stores across the country, ensuring exponential market growth.”

  “In other words, sign the damn contract.”

  Wilt chuckled. “Once all the details are taken care of. I would if I was you.”

  “And because you get ten percent for brokering the deal.”

  He adjusted his suit jacket. “Small price to pay.”

  I didn’t say anything because he was right. Wilt’s been my attorney since my early days as a fighter. Buddy had introduced me to him. They knew each other from their neighborhood coming up. Wilt was scrappy, like Buddy, but he wasn’t a fighter. Not in the ring, anyway. He was a damn pit bull of an attorney, however. After I retired from fighting, I kept him on my team for the various other businesses I had, and he’s long since proven his worth.

  Ten percent of this current deal would easily garner him a seven figure payout, but that still paled in comparison to what my company would earn in potential profits.

  “Then let's see what they have to say,�
�� I finally responded.

  We arrived to the headquarters of one of the nation’s largest retailers and were escorted up to the third floor by one of the men Wilt and I had been corresponding with over the past few months. Without even thinking about it, while on the elevator, I pulled out my phone to see if I had any missed calls.

  Nothing.

  Not from Joshua or Tyler. Not that I expected either one of them to keep me informed if something did go wrong with Resha.

  And that was when I also remembered that I hadn’t given her my number to call me if she needed. Not that I’d thought she use it but I mentally kicked myself for not at least getting her number. I was going to have to bite the bullet and either get it from Destiny or wait until I got back to Williamsport to get it my damn self.

  “Are you paying attention?” Wilt questioned, interrupting my thoughts.

  I peered down at him, pissed off because no I hadn’t been paying attention and he had the goddamn audacity to impede on my thoughts about a woman who was increasingly taking up more and more of my headspace.

  “What?”

  “Martin Chapman, the head of new operations for the retailer, will be joining this meeting. I’ve been trying to get him to make it in to meet us for weeks.”

  “Get off his cock, Wilt. He’s just another man,” I gritted through my teeth as we entered a huge conference room on the fifteenth floor of the building. There were at least five other men there, all in dark business suits with professional smiles on their faces as we entered. Like I said, I couldn’t stand these types of meetings. I much preferred having these things over conference calls, or hell, even via email. That way I could be at home or in my office, lounging in sweatpants while talking shop with these types, instead of in a stuffy ass office.

  “Just let me do most of the talking,” was the final thing Wilt whispered under his breath to me as we were greeted by the first of the group.

  I shrugged and gave no response because that was my typical response whenever Wilt made that comment, which was often.

  “Mr. O’Brien, what a pleasure it is to meet you in person,” a grinning jackal with over gelled dark hair greeted. “I’m Connor Walsh. We have the same first name. Irish blood.” He chuckled as if he expected me to join in on the not-so-funny joke.

  I gave him a deadpan expression and he quickly sobered up. “Call me Connor,” I stated. I really hated formalities.

  Wilt and I were introduced to the rest of the team and shown our seats round the conference table.

  “I’ll sit here,” I said after being shown to the seats where my back would be facing the door.

  “Mr. O’Brien doesn’t like having his back to the door. Once a fighter always a fighter,” Wilt explained, causing the men to chuckle and give me knowing nods.

  I gave them a cool look because I wasn’t about to explain myself to anyone. But Wilt and I had been working together for so long, he knew my style well enough that he could smooth out any feathers I happened to ruffle.

  “And here comes Martin,” the man we’d met in the lobby announced, peering back into the room. The rest of the men in the room immediately tensed up and straightened their suit jackets, putting on their business expressions.

  “Mr. Chapman,” the man greeted.

  In walked a tall, lanky figure, about the same age as Wilt. He had an air of superiority but I didn’t find it off-putting as I did with most others. Unlike the underlings in the room, this guy looked me straight in the eye.

  “Gentlemen, sorry I’m late. An early morning meeting ran behind. Let’s not take up anymore time, shall we? You must be Connor O’Brien,” he stated, extending his hand for me to shake.

  “I must be.” I shook his hand and then turned to Wilt. “This is my lawyer, Wilt Mendoza,” I introduced.

  “The name is certainly familiar. Nice to finally meet in person as opposed to the many emails we’ve exchanged.”

  “Pleasure.” Wilt nodded while shaking his hand.

  “Okay, let’s jump right into it. Mr. O’Brien, our store, Jersey’s, has extended the offer of exclusively offering your product on our shelves. As you know this is an extremely lucrative deal for any small business owner such as yourself.”

  “I’m well aware, but there are some questions we need to clear up before moving forward.” I tilted my head toward Wilt, signaling that it was his turn to bring up our concerns with the contract.

  Wilt adeptly went over the problems with the contract, the parts where we thought Jersey’s would be getting too high of a percentage of the profits, issues with the chain of command, and whatnot. Once all those areas had been adequately addressed, I gave Wilt a look informing him that I was okay to sign. His eyes narrowed in the way they do when he’s silently telling me that he agreed with my decision.

  “There’s just one thing we need to discuss, Mr. O’Brien.” That statement was made by a guy who sat directly across the table from me. He’d been mainly silent up until this point.

  “And you are?” I questioned, lifting an eyebrow.

  His eyes seemed to widen at my tone. “Larry … Larry Bivens from the marketing department.”

  I stared at him, waiting for him to continue.

  “Well, the deal looks great, and certainly, Jersey Retailers believes in your product, lest this offer wouldn’t be on the table. The only problem is your marketing.”

  “My what?”

  “M-More specifically your social media marketing presence, or rather, lack thereof.”

  “Lack? I’ve got all the requisite social media pages.” My voice had deepened with annoyance. I was ready to get the hell out of this meeting. Most of the hard negotiating was over and now this douche was holding me up over some goddamn social media issues.

  “Yes, you do, Mr. O’Brien. That’s how we initially came across your products. But to say there are some areas in which your social media presence could be, uh, heightened, would be an understatement.”

  First Mark now this guy who’s name I’d forgotten as soon as he spoke it. I turned Wilt and grunted.

  “Trust me, Mr. Bivens, I’ve been talking to Connor about increasing his social media marketing and influence. I think he understands the importance of improving his marketing and advertising on his pages.”

  I turned back to the guy. “You have anything in mind?”

  “Yes, our team came up with a few ideas on how to grow your online presence and still keep in line with your company’s mission. If we could—”

  “Great, email it to me,” I insisted, rising from my seat. I was done. We’d been in this meeting that was only supposed to be thirty to forty-five minutes or so, for over two hours. “I’ll read it over and get back to you. Anything else?” I questioned, looking around the table.

  Chapman, of course, was the first to speak up. “I think that’s all, Mr. O’Brien. We thank you for taking the time to come all the way out to the East Coast from Williamsport and we hope this is the beginning of a very long and advantageous union.”

  “That went very well,” Wilt said, sounding proud of himself as we pulled off in the same chauffeured vehicle that’d dropped us off. We weren’t done for the day by any means, needing to make some appearances later on at some promotional events at the local sports arena.

  I grunted in response to Wilt’s comment. “Hey, Wilt?” I spoke while scrolling through my phone, seeing I had a few text messages and emails to respond to.

  “Yeah?”

  “Don’t ever fucking talk about me like I’m not in the room again.” I rolled my eyes away from my phone screen and up to Wilt so he could see the look in my eyes.

  He nodded contritely. “Sorry, Connor. You know I get excited and ahead of myself from time to time.”

  “I do. Don’t let it happen again.” My gaze moved back to my phone.

  There was nothing left to be said. Wilt was a hell of a lawyer and someone I respected but he knew better than to try that condescending shit with me. I may’ve been on the verge of a lucr
ative deal, spearheaded in part by Wilt’s above-average negotiating skills, but I’d burn everything to the ground if he or anyone else thought they could talk over or condescend to me.

  Chapter Six

  Resha

  “Coming!” I yelled at the chiming computer as if it could hear me or acknowledge me in some way. I made it to my desk chair in a huff, slamming my body down against the seat and pressing the button to answer Shauna’s call.

  “Hey!” I blurted into the pop-up video screen of my smiling virtual assistant.

  “Hey, you out of breath?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, was in the living room. Got a late start to the morning and damn near forgot our call.”

  “No worries if you need to reschedule and take more time off.”

  I swallowed the sip of my vanilla bean latte that I’d just taken, shaking my head as I placed my mug on the marble coaster I kept desk to my desktop.

  “No, please. After four days off with nothing to do, that is the last thing I need.” I’d ended up taking a few extra days off after the attack last weekend. The nurse Tyler and Destiny hired ended up staying with me for a full forty-eight hours at their insistence. She’d noted that my blood pressure was a little high, and after noticing just how much swelling my face had done, she recommended taking time off. The tiredness and grogginess I continued to feel forced me to concede and do as she suggested.

  Thankfully, however, I was feeling better, the swelling had greatly improved and was barely noticeable, and the nurse was gone. I only needed to apply a somewhat thin layer of concealer to hide the bruising that was still evident on my face. I’d posted a picture on social media just that morning of my outfit of the day, and out of the hundreds of comments that post had gotten so far, not one person noticed anything abnormal about my face.

  “Let’s go over what’s in store for us this week.”

  “Glad you’re feeling better.”

  I smiled at the screen, feeling guilty for telling Shauna that I’d needed time off because I’d come down with the stomach flu.

  “Thanks.” I took another sip of my latte just to avoid her sympathetic look. “So, you were able to reschedule with that sustainable clothing brand for the photoshoot, right?”