Come three thirty, I’m in the conference room on the opposite side of our offices, preparing for the meeting that seems to still be happening. The food, a selection of cookies and pastries, has been delivered and is displayed at the end of the long glossy table, large enough for twelve, and I’ve set up the information packets at seven different locations. Everything is ready to go, and I’m about to head to the lobby to check on our guests when Brandon Senior appears in the doorway. I’m struck immediately by how his custom black suit, once exquisitely tailored, hangs on his thinning body, while his yellow tie appears rather enormous.
“There’s been a change of plans, Ms. Stevens. One of the key players can’t come here. I’m meeting him and the others at an off-site location.”
I almost laugh at the insanity of this moment. The master player isn’t such a master if Shane can predict his actions this closely.
“Understood,” I say. “Do you need the handouts?”
“I do,” he says, “and I need you to walk with me to the car. I have a document I’d like you to give Shane that I forgot to bring up this morning. I assume you’ll be seeing him?”
I’m reminded that our living circumstances haven’t been disclosed, but more so, I am aware that he is digging into how close I am to Shane. “I can have Jessica ensure he gets it.”
His lips quirk ever so slightly. “Of course. Jessica.”
“Let me grab your materials,” I say, hurrying to the table and quickly gathering up the bound documents and placing them inside the canvas bag the copy center had used to deliver them. “I’m ready.”
He gives me a nod and we head to the elevator, where I’m nervous about the conversation we might have once inside. Fortunately for me, several staff members join us, and I am saved from whatever he’s intended to chat with me about. Not that “chat” is a word I typically use in conjunction with my boss. Another bit of luck, and it doesn’t take long before we’re on the executive floor of the parking garage and he’s popped the trunk of a shiny black Rolls-Royce.
“Beautiful car,” I comment, placing the bag inside, discreetly aware that Shane’s Bentley is missing.
“I’ve had it parked in my garage for a while,” he says, opening the back door and then shutting it, returning with an envelope in his hand. “But you only live once, I hear.”
The joke amuses him, stirring a chuckle that turns into a cough he can’t seem to beat, one or two hacks turning into an eruption. “Door,” he says, pointing, and I open the driver’s side for him, allowing him to sit, while he begins to cough up blood, which he blots with tissues he grabs from his pocket.
I kneel beside him, spying glimpses of Shane in him even now, and it hurts my heart. He’s a part of Shane, a deep part of his soul, no matter how dark that stain might be. “Mr. Brandon. What can I do?”
“Stop looking at me like I’m helpless,” he snaps, scowling at me as he straightens and seems to gain more control. “See that Shane gets that document,” he says, handing me the folder, before he rotates to sit fully behind the wheel of the car and I have to scramble to get up before he slams the door shut.
The engine hums to life, and I back up, watching as he drives away. Brandon Senior is not even close to a nice person, but he’s Shane’s father, and it will hurt when he loses him. You won’t have to tolerate it for long. I’ll be dead soon, he’d said last night. I believe him. I wonder if Shane has really, truly prepared himself for this, and my gut says no. He has not. Deciding I need to talk to him about it tonight, I head for the elevator. I’m almost to the doors when they open, and to my dismay, Derek steps out.
“Well, well,” he says, closing the small space between us. “Don’t I have exceptional timing today. Always running into you at just the right moment.”
He’s mocking my pizza incident but I don’t give him the satisfaction of noticing, and I have bigger things on my mind, as should he. “I walked your father down. He was bad, Derek. He was coughing up blood and he just … he wasn’t good.”
Derek’s chest expands on a breath he holds for several beats and then lets out. “I guess we know why he’s set the board meeting then.”
“Right,” I say, intentional condemnation in my voice. “The board meeting. Unbelievable. That’s what matters when your father is dying.” It’s not even a question.
His lips quirk. “Righteous like my brother. No wonder he’s fucking you.”
“Apparently being an asshole runs in your family,” I say, trying to step around him, but he grabs my arm, his grip a little too tight, his touch uncomfortable in about a million ways. But I don’t pull away. I don’t give him that satisfaction of rattling me.
“Are you referring to my brother or my father?”
“Both,” I say, because it’s part of me playing the used and abused lover. “You know. You and Shane are brothers. I don’t understand the hate between you. Siblings have a bond that is supposed to last a lifetime.”
“I wasn’t aware you had a sibling to make that assessment.”
“I don’t,” I say, not missing a beat. “But I wish I did. I wish there would have been that kind of bond to fall back on when my parents died.”
“That’s right,” he says, and then proving he’s already been looking into my background, he adds, “They died in a plane crash, didn’t they?”
There is something about the narrowing of his eyes, the sharpness to his tone, that tells me he is suspicious of my story. Or maybe I’m paranoid, but then I have reason to be, but I don’t get time to find out.
“Let go of her,” I hear Shane say from just behind me.
There is a beat that turns into three and suddenly my arm is free. I whirl around to find Shane facing off with Derek. Neither man is looking at me. I am frozen.
Suddenly Shane is standing beside me. “Go upstairs, Emily.”
I inhale and force myself to calm down before I do exactly what I’m told. I walk when I want to run. Slow. Steady. I reach the elevator and I punch the button to call the car, thankful it opens immediately. From there I barely remember entering or exiting to the main elevators, but once I’m on the ride up, my heart is racing, my knees rubbery. I said nothing wrong, but I didn’t have to. Derek has been checking into me, but I tell myself that he still can’t know who I am. He still can’t trigger the Geminis’ attention because they aren’t looking for me. Unless my brother hasn’t told me something. I flash back once again to the night of my stepfather’s death and the moment my brother had said What the hell are you doing here? and for the first time I remember the look in his eyes. There was no fear or remorse for what he’d done. No regret. There was anger, at me.
SHANE
I stand toe-to-toe with my brother, and the fact that I haven’t shoved him against the wall like the last time we stood in almost this same spot is a testament to my willpower.
“Protecting your woman?” Derek asks.
“You’re just pissed I fucked her first, but then, I hear random fucks are off the table for you, since you’re basically engaged to Adrian Martina’s sister.”
“What can I say? She’s a good fuck.”
“You don’t just fuck the daughter of a kingpin, or the sister of the heir to their dynasty. Because when you stop, you end up dead.”
“Adrian Martina cares about money, not me fucking his sister.”
“Is that why he came to see me today? About money?”
“Because you’re standing between him and his money.”
“So you knew he was coming?”