In stark contrast, Brett, his eldest brother, once distant and work absorbed, was as annoyingly persistent to have a relationship with him. I don’t have time to pander to his midlife crisis, either.
That sounded colder than Spencer meant for it to, even in his thoughts. It wasn’t Brett’s fault that their mother had cheated on, then left Dereck Westerly. Nor was it his fault that Spencer had spent most of his life wondering why their father had kept two of his sons with him, raised them in a life of luxury, while essentially ignoring the three children who’d been left with their mother.
Being disowned by their father had been confusing. Why didn’t he fight to keep us? Why did we have to work to support ourselves and our dreams while Brett and Eric were handed everything on a platinum platter?
At least I don’t have to wonder anymore.
Too much drama. Only work made sense, and Spencer was determined to make that part of his life a success.
“You really are in a bad mood. Run beach with summer crowd C.”
The table and chairs withdrew into the wall, and the two men were transported to a sandy beach where bikini-clad women were basking in the sun, wading in and out of the water, and playing volleyball. The simulation had started as a joke, but Jordan had obviously been working on it, as it was now impressively realistic. No wonder he’s falling behind. “What the fuck is this?”
Jordan grinned boyishly. “Heaven. That’s what I call it. Take a moment to soak it in.”
Spencer didn’t bother. “End program. Maintain connection.” The beach faded away, and the two men were standing in a neutral screen room. “We are not courting the porn industry. Focus, Jordan.”
Jordan shrugged. “What’s wrong with having a little fun? There was a time when you would have laughed. Okay, okay. I know how to cheer you up. I’ve been working on something that will blow your mind.” He waved a hand. “Run photo album two.” The room transformed again, and they were transported into a virtual representation of their old college campus. “Your mother kindly sent me your old flash drives full of photos and copies of her pictures. I used our basic facial recognition feature, added a dash of artificial intelligence, and voilà—a person literally can go home. Tell the program who you want to see and the backdrop you want them to appear in. It requires clients to upload their own location videos and photos, but if we pair this with devices to make it simple, we’ll dominate the entertainment industry as well as the business sector. The awesome part is you can opt to put yourself in or take yourself out. Numerous photos of the same person allow the computer to generate a 3-D representation. Movies allow them to move through the space. This is a game changer, Spence. What do you think?”
“End program. Maintain connection. No,” Spencer said decisively. There was nothing in the past he wanted to see.
“That’s it? No? I put months into this.”
“Exactly. You wasted months, which is why you need to get your ass in gear now and finish up the Chichén Itzá simulation. We need it perfected and out to our customers, along with upgrades.”
“I created the album simulation on my own time.”
Spencer threw his hands up in the air. “Do you want us to fail? Is that why you’re dicking around?”
“‘Dicking around’?” Jordan let out an audible breath. “What’s with you? Seriously.”
Running his hand through his hair, Spencer asked, “Me? Who just put us behind schedule while he tweaked his Girls Gone Wild simulation? Fine, I’m an asshole because I want to meet deadline and not muddy my brand.”
“Our brand. Don’t talk to me like I work for you.” With a sound of disgust, Jordan glared at Spencer. “I cut you slack because your brother is marrying your ex-fiancée and I know it’s bugging you, but you weren’t even into her. And honestly, she dodged a bullet because you’re a real dickhead lately.”
Spencer’s head snapped back beneath the criticism from someone who had been like a brother to him for over a decade. A better brother than his biological ones had ever been. “This is business, Jordan. You can’t do whatever you want.”
Jordan raised his hand and pointed at him, moving fast enough that his hand temporarily blurred, a fact that made the perfectionist in Spencer wince. “That’s what’s wrong with you. You used to enjoy this. We both used to. Now it’s all about the contracts and connections. I don’t want to sit around kissing the asses of big business. I want to create things I’m excited about. I want to want to be here. I need to want to be here.”
“You can create whatever you want after you finish this project.”
“It’s like talking to a wall. Whatever is fucking bothering you, it’s changing you. You like to say you don’t need anyone; well, you’re about to find out if that’s true. Finish Chichén Itzá on your own. I’m outta here. End connection.”
Fuck.
Jordan and Spencer had always been different, but that had been their strength. In high school, Spencer had balanced his passion for programming with sports. He’d ruled on the football field while Jordan fully embraced the geek lifestyle. They’d each brought something different to the table.
Of course I’ve changed; it’s called growing up. Spencer slammed his hand against the blank wall of the simulator, then threw open the door and strode out of it.
His secretary looked up with a smile that faded as she noticed his mood. “Your sister is on line one. I was just about to tell her you were busy. Would you like me to put her through to your office?”
“Do I look like I want to talk to anyone right now?” Spencer growled.
A red flush swept over his secretary’s face, and she blinked several times before saying, “I’ll tell her you’re in a meeting . . . again.”
Thank you. Do I have to think for everyone? “Lisa . . .”
“Yes, Mr. Westerly?”
“Go home early today.” He was done with her as well.
Tears sprung to her eyes. “Please don’t fire me. I just got a new apartment.”
God, I really am a dick. “You’re not fired. Just go.”
“It’s barely three o’clock.”
He gave her a look that must have expressed how he was feeling because she quickly told his sister that he was in a meeting, turned off her computer, grabbed her purse, and bolted for the door. Alone at last, he went into his office, closed the door, and sat down on the leather couch, burying his face in his hands. This should be the best year of his life, but in stark contrast to how well WorkChat was doing, his personal life was spinning out of control.