2. Lauren
2
Lauren
A terrible sensation dances in my stomach as Marcus walks away. From my seat, I stare at his broad back, gauging his anger by the long strides he’s taking to his car. I feel bad. I shouldn’t have brought that up, knowing what it still does to him even to this day. Marcus knows I meant nothing by it, though. I’ll give him a day for things to blow over.
Blowing a raspberry, I press the start button, but although the engine roars to life, I don’t drive off until Marcus pulls out of his spot. We turn in opposite directions, him driving further into Brooklyn, me heading toward the outskirts of Manhattan to my new apartment. It’s a twenty-minute drive filled with thoughts of my brother’s best friend.
Bursts of wistfulness go off inside me, spurned by a longing that surfaces whenever I think of him. Marcus will never know how much his lifestyle bothers me. He’ll never find out that my concern for him lies deeper than a worry for his well-being. There are some secrets that will be carried to the grave, and my crush is one of them. I can only admit to my shadow that I’ve had a thing for him since I was seventeen .
For nine years, I’ve wished that he would see me. Me, Lauren Cain, not the little girl with pigtails who used to annoy the heck out of him. Not the teenager whose dates he’d team up with Gabriel to intimidate so much that they’d take me home an hour earlier than expected. Not the young adult he’d helped out of more scrapes that I can count.
Me, Lauren, the woman. I wish he would notice me .
It will never happen, and I’ve made peace with that. Most times .
Most times, I’ve accepted that he’s my brother’s best friend, and Gabriel would kill Marcus if his eyes even lingered for too long. Gabriel has seen the women Marcus has ruined, and he wouldn’t want me to be one of them. I get that. I also understand that Marcus and I share different principles regarding our future. I want a husband and kids. He wants to whore his entire life away.
Even while knowing that, I’m still waiting for my heart to get the message. Marcus is not the one for me.
A sudden shrilling fills the car, startling me. The number on the dashboard screen makes me frown. Why is he calling me?
Breathing an exasperated sigh, I press the answer button. “Cain.”
A mocking chuckle fills the speakers. “Please don’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re not one of the boys, Lauren , so don’t even try.”
I bite my lip to hold back a sharp retort then take a quick breath and try again. “How many times must I remind you that I’m your boss now, Oliver? You don’t get to speak to me that way.”
Oliver White, my second-in-command, laughs outright. “How many times must I remind you that I’m your boss now, Oliver?” he mimics. “You’re not my boss. You’re a filler until Daddy Dearest comes to his senses. You’re going to mess up, and he’s going to see he made the wrong choice demoting me.”
This conversation feels like déjà vu. In fact, we’ve had several versions of this since I took over running the company six months ago. My father wanted to retire, and since Gabriel was already running his own company and our brother Daniel died eight years ago, I was the only sensible choice. At least, that’s what I thought. Oliver still hasn’t gotten over being pushed back to his original position to make room for me.
Already weary, I ask, “What do you want? It’s a Saturday and my day off. If this isn’t business related, please get off my phone.”
“What do I want?” He snorts. “Sweetheart, this is not about me. Didn’t security call you?”
“No…” My voice trails as I slow down at the stoplight, and I use the time to quickly check my call log. “I’m seeing no missed call from the office.”
“Well, they called me,” he brags.
I wait for him to explain, and when he says nothing, I ask as patiently as I can, “What’s going on, Oliver?”
“There was a security breach on the ground floor,” he finally replies. “Apparently, a man tried to smash the side door to get inside. Lucky for us, he wasn’t successful. Security restrained him until the cops got there.”
“Oh, thank God,” I breathe. I don’t need another reason for Dad to write me off. He already thinks I’m not cut-out to run this company, and I’ve been working my ass off to prove him wrong. Although, knowing him, he’s going to count this as a strike against me. To hell with it being out of my control. He wants to see me fail.
“Is there any property damage?” I ask Oliver. The doors are impact-resistant, but there are company cars parked on the compound.
“Why don’t you drive up to see for yourself, boss ?” Oliver replies, sounding snappy. “I’m not a fucking reporter. I don’t answer to you.”
He hangs up before I clarify that hell yes, he does answer to me. Like it or not, I’m the head of the company. Sure, he had aspirations when Dad put him in a charge for a year after his retirement, but Cain Industries is not his birthright. It’s mine. I might only have a few years’ work experience under my belt, but this job was made for me.
If only I could air my issues with Oliver to Dad, but it would only prove to him that I can’t handle the task. He’d be right. Getting a subordinate in line should be a walk in the park for someone who wants to lead a multi-million-dollar company. If I can’t get Oliver to submit, then I have no business being there.
The problem is, I don’t know where to start. Oliver White hates me.
Taking the right turn instead of the left, I head to downtown Manhattan to the company headquarters. There’s radio silence when I enter the compound, no sign of the commotion that happened earlier, and I’m grateful. With a smile, I enter the code that gives me access to the lobby area. At least my dad can’t blame me for any property damage—
Oh, God.
“Miss Cain, are you okay?” a concerned voice floats above me as I double over from the sudden sharp pain in my lower belly.
I shake my head, and the security guard takes my hand, leading me to a small couch by the glass windows. A loud gasp emerges from another round of pain. I grab the area, doubling over again.
“Can I get you some water, call your doctor maybe?”
“Just the water, please,” I groan. There’s no need to call a doctor. I already know what’s wrong with me.