Chapter 5
My fingers grip the strands of my hair for the tenth time this morning, my eyes burning from looking at the numbers my company has produced over the past year. I’ve been in my role officially for a few days, and in a brief summary, it’s been shit. The remaining employees who made it through the cuts had avoided me like the plague, even when I tried taking the “personable” route as my dad suggested. I think that made it worse because now nobody talks to me.
I could’ve fired everybody and started with a clean slate, hired people that gave a big enough fuck to do their jobs and shared the same goals as me, which is bringing more money in than what we’re currently sitting with, and that was it. I don’t give a fuck how people do their jobs, as long as they get done, but it pisses me off that I’m viewed as the bad guy for doing something that needs to be done. I don’t expect my employees to understand that, but a little mercy would be nice.
I groan audibly as somebody raps at my door. Looking up, my sister stands in the doorway with an amused smile painted across her lips, her sandy blonde hair free-flowing over her shoulders.
“How’s the first few days, Boss?”
I sigh irritability, leaning back in my chair to cross an ankle over my knee. “Like shit.”
She chuckles and steps inside, quietly closing the door behind her before making her way to the chair on the opposite side of my desk.
Brooklyn is our company’s lawyer and my younger sister. Unfortunately for the both of us, she’s also my built-in best friend, which means she deals with my shit more than my actual friends. She, like myself, graduated from Harvard and decided to work for our dad right after college. Although it wasn’t my initial plan, it’s always been hers.
“Dad mentioned the transition might be rough,” she says, pushing her hair behind her shoulders and crossing one leg over the other. Her hands are placed neatly on her lap, her back straight, and chin held high as she watches me intently. Always poised and ready for action. That’s what makes her a good lawyer—she misses absolutely nothing. She originally went to Harvard for Criminal Law, but after getting sexually assaulted walking home from a bar with some of her friends a year ago, she changed specializations in school and hasn’t looked back.
As often as she promises she’s fine, I still worry about her. I was the first person she called the night it happened, and I’ve never driven so fast to get to her. I was the one who sat outside of her hospital room during the rape-kit examination. I was holding her hand when she told our parents the next day, all of us trying to hold it together for her. I almost moved back home then, but took a brief leave of absence from my job and slept on her apartment couch, often barging into her room during the middle of the night when her screams woke me up. I can’t count the number of times I sat at the edge of her bed while she worked herself through her own panic attacks because she couldn’t stand to be touched by anybody. She’s doing better now, but her scars will be lifelong.
“I’m sure he did,” I surmise, flicking my gaze over the mountains of paperwork I printed out this morning. Most of our documentation is electronically filed, but I’ve always been a visual learner, even during college. It’s easier to write down my thoughts and make notes when I can directly look at something.
I’ve spent my morning so far trying to collect data and understand our company’s finances and where they’re going—where they’ve been going. “I didn’t realize things were this bad, Brooke.”
She shrugs noncommittally as if she’s known about this situation longer than she’s let on. Brooklyn—Brooke—and I have always been close. It helps that she’s only two years younger than me because we can relate more to one another, but on top of that, our parents wanted us to be close. We spent all of our free time together growing up: traveling with our parents, going out on the weekends, sneaking out when we were old enough, and covering for the other when needed. I wouldn’t change anything about our dynamic, and am fortunate to have the relationship with her that I do. She helped pick up the pieces when my life was turned upside down earlier this year, and had it not been for her, I don’t know where I’d be.
“I’ve tried talking to Dad about it for years, Tan,” she replies, swiping a piece of lint from her black dress pants before lifting her gaze to mine. “You know how he is. Why change something that isn’t broken?”
“But it is broken,” I argue, although she was only repeating the saying our dad ingrained in our heads. Like I said, he’s a great boss in the sense that he cares about his employees, but when it comes to any of the back-end work…he sucks. “I don’t know how the company hasn’t gone bankrupt yet.”
She raises her eyebrow, tilting her head curiously. “Do you think it’s going to?”
I shrug, uncrossing my leg to lean forward, resting my elbows against the desk. Glancing over the spreadsheet with projected sales for the year pulled up on my computer, I shrug.
“I don’t know yet.”
She purses her lips, pensive in thought.
She knows as much as I do that the biggest way we’ll be able to bring partners back is by advertising ourselves, connecting with other firms, and trying to rebuild relationships. The pandemic screwed us over because people didn’t need our services—opting for online services rather than in-person. It was a smart business strategy to be in, but one that hurt brick-and-mortars like ours. We’d need to start driving our sales through our online source, and as of yesterday, I fired half of our marketing team.
Brooke reads my thoughts and narrows her eyes. “You didn’t fire all of the marketing department, did you?”
I divert my gaze and bite my bottom lip, eyebrows scrunched together. “Not all of them—“
“Tanner,” she drops her head and sighs audibly before pressing her palms into her eyes. “I told you, we needed at least a few of them—“
“They weren’t doing their jobs, Brooke,” I reply, leaning back in my chair and outstretching my arms in front of me. “What was I supposed to do?”
“Not fire them,” she deadpans. “How many did you keep?”
I hesitate. “Ten.”
Green eyes bulge as she whips her head in surprise, lunging her body forward. “You fired everybody but ten people?! TANNER!”
Dread pricks at my spine, but I wave her concerns away. The intention wasn’t to go so termination crazy, but after Dad said his final goodbyes and I had a better chance to look at revenue and well…everything, I may have jumped the gun. “I’ll hire more people. It’s fine.”
“No, Tan,” she shakes her head. “It’s not fine. We still need people to work here, and hiring more people means running the risk of having to overpay when we can barely afford to pay the employees we have now. What the hell, dude?”
I bite back my smirk. I’m not disregarding the severity of the situation, but watching Brooke lose some of her perfectly crafted composure is amusing. She’s always been the more put-together one; always cool, calm, and collected even in situations that may not warrant it. It’s what makes her a great lawyer, but it’s her biggest downfall in her personal life. She’s missed out on opportunities because of her rigidness, and as much as I give her shit for it from time to time, I hope she finds a way not to take the little things so seriously.
Excluding me terminating almost an entire department. That is a much bigger, different problem.
“It’ll be fine,” I reassure, folding my arms over my chest and looking out at the Boston skyline. My office has a clear view of the entire city and while I normally wouldn’t mind not having the biggest office, the luxury of it is nice.
“You act like you haven’t run a business before,” she says, mimicking folding her arms over her chest, irritation hinting in her tone. “You’re better than that, Tan.”
I frown, diverting my focus. Admitting I’m wrong isn’t a big deal—I’m a human entitled to making mistakes just like everybody else despite my career or the choices I make in my life, but seeing the impact it has on my sister makes me feel like shit. We were raised to take accountability and ownership for our actions, and somehow, knowing I’ve disappointed her doesn’t sit right with me. She’s right regardless, I’ve ran a business before, one that is still succeeding in Connecticut even after the pandemic, and if I can do that, I should be able to manage Moore Enterprises. I hope.
“I know,” I say, watching her intently. As much as I love getting grilled by my sister, I don’t want to sit in the heavy feelings that come with that, so I change the subject. “How’s Everett?”
Her back goes ramrod straight, and her eyes widen a fraction at the mention of her on-again, off-again boyfriend. I’m not the biggest fan of the guy because he constantly makes jabs at my sister, but she apparently loves him enough to continue the relationship, so most of the time, I stay quiet.
“I–I don’t know,” she stammers. “Fine, I think? Why would you ask?”
I shrug casually. “Just wondering.”
Her hands grip the edges of her chair, and her bottom lip works its way into her mouth.
“He’s fine, I think,” she says softly this time, although her eyebrows scrunch together, and there’s a vacant look in her eyes. Brooke’s been seeing Everett for a few months again officially, but neither I nor our parents approve of him. He seems too ditzy for my sister and doesn’t have the best track record of showing up for her. The one time we did meet him, he was extremely passive and ignored Brooke most of the night, although it didn’t seem to bother her. I’m assuming, based on her lack of responses, she ended it. Again.
“Brooke,” I say softly, more gently than I’ve ever talked to her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She swallows thickly, and glances away for a beat before slipping on her cool mask, completely shutting me out. “As much as I love being reminded about my lack of love life and the assault that took everything away from me,” she drawls bitterly. “We should be focused on work.”
“I’d rather not,” I say, trying to mask my surprise at her candidness. She doesn’t usually mention her assault to any of us, which makes me wonder if she’s struggling again. “Not if you’re not doing well again, Brooke. You know you can talk to me if something’s going on, right?”
She rolls her eyes, visibly annoyed. “I’m serious, Tanner. We need to be talking about your…transition.”
My eyebrows raise, slightly unamused with her need to change the subject, but I drop it for now. “My transition? What’s wrong with it?”
She rubs her hands on her pants, lips thinning like she’s contemplating how to have the conversation. “Things were working when Dad was here, albeit rough, but we had a good thing going. You being here…it’s just…” she pauses, her eyes finding mine, slightly softening. “I know how you are. I know your heart and who you are outside of here. But during work, you’re…intimidating.”
I point to myself, shocked. “I’m intimidating?”
“Yes,” she replies without hesitation. “Notice how nobody has talked to you yet? It wasn’t like that when Dad was here. He had the office door open at all times and approached his employees. He gave a shit about us, and you…well,” she wrings her hands together. “You’re cold.”
I blow out a breath, letting her words hit the mark. Disappointment curdles in my stomach knowing my own sister feels this way. I don’t care how my employees feel, but the woman in front of me does matter, and the last thing I’d ever want is for her to think she can’t talk to me about these things.
“Shit, Brooke,” I run a hand through my hair. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“It’s fine,” she waves me off. “It isn’t a big deal. It’ll take some time getting used to, is all.”
My face scrunches up, my lips twisting to the side. I don’t want my sister to feel uncomfortable around me while at work. There’s a level of professionalism we have to navigate, but I want her to feel like can come to me about these things instead of waiting for the moment to arise.
Her face softens further at whatever she reads on my face, her mouth popping open to say something when my eyes catch somebody talking to my receptionist outside the office. Curly brunette hair is in two buns on top of her head while the rest frizzes out to the length of her shoulders, the curls bouncing in various directions. She nods intently with my receptionist, Kinsley, who talks animatedly and waves her hands everywhere. Daisy turns to stare into the office, eyes widening when they meet mine before diverting her focus back to her conversation.
I take a moment to rack over her appearance today—army green dress pants filling out her ass perfectly and curving with wide hips, a plain gray fitted shirt accentuating her small waist. For a moment, I allow myself to wonder how smooth her skin would feel against mine—
“Give me a break,” my sister rolls her eyes after following my line of sight. “Don’t tell me you’re already pining over an employee. I thought you’d last at least six months.”
I snap my focus to her, unamused. “I’m not pining over anybody, nor am I going to date an employee, Brooke. I’m just…curious about her, is all.”
She snorts, shaking her head. “You keep telling yourself that. But remember, I know you. And you’ve been single for a while now.”
The smirk falls from my face at the reminder of my recent relationship status change. I’ve been single for a year now after being in a relationship for the last six. My ex and I were set to get married in the upcoming spring, but after realizing we weren’t compatible, I called everything off. A part of me will always love Yasmin, but we weren’t meant to be life partners.
“I have no intentions of dating an employee, or anybody for that matter,” I reply with an edge to my tone. “I don’t have time, and I’m not interested in failing again.”
She frowns. “You didn’t fail, Tanner. It didn’t work out.”
I shrug. My former relationship always leaves a bitter taste in my mouth—not because I still wanted to be with her, but because I was foolish and allowed myself to be taken advantage of. I was prepared to spend the rest of my life with Yasmin, and I was looking forward to being a husband and building a life with somebody I loved, but that was taken from me when she decided to cheat while I was at home taking care of my sister.
“Yeah, well,” I say gruffly. “It’s in the past now.”
Brooke nods but doesn’t say anything, slowly rising from her chair. She knows as much as my family how much I hate talking about my past relationship—or, any of my problems. Ruminating on the past feels like a waste of time because the world still moves no matter what people go through. There’s no point in hanging onto things that won’t matter in the grand scheme of things.
“It may be in the past,” she says as she walks to the door, “But you’ll find your person, eventually. I know you don’t want to talk about it anymore—“ She shakes her head as her hand finds the door handle. “-But I wanted to say that at least.”
I nod, letting her words linger. “I appreciate that. Don’t forget to bring your car to the shop this week.”
She sighs and drops her head back. “You sound like dad. I’ll do it when I have time.”
“Brooklyn,” I say sternly. “You need to get your oil changed this time. Your car is going to shit out one of these days, if it hasn’t already started causing you problems.”
She smirks, looking over her shoulder. “That’s why I blast the radio. Can’t hear if something’s wrong if I can’t hear anything at all.”
“Oh, my God,” I groan.
We exchange a few more words before she leaves my office to prepare for a meeting she has with a potential client, waving to my receptionist and Daisy before walking down the hall. If I’m honest with myself, Daisy piqued my interest. She was seemingly quiet and kept to herself, but when she was around people she liked, she was open to conversation. She may not have been as animated as the next, but she seemed invested in the person and what they had to say. It didn’t help that she was nice to look at, but I meant what I said to my sister. I have no intentions on dating anybody any time soon, and the last person I’d seek out would be an employee. It went against all my morals, plus it was against the company rules. No point in entertaining the thoughts, so instead of allowing my gaze to linger on her any longer, I busy myself in another day of sorting finances, trying to figure out if I could keep our company afloat.