5. Byron
5
BYRON
M eg’s exit from the office was still fresh in my mind’s eye when Roman put me to task.
“So what do you say, we get you started on the mergers and acquisitions side today,” he said. “Now that Meg is here, she'll be able to brief you later this week on the basics of which contracts get transferred in each case and the reasoning behind it.”
I was tempted to ask him if it wasn't a bit reckless to place so much trust in Meg, a rookie lawyer, but I held back.
“Sure, I’m ready. Whatever you think is best.”
It was not my place to question the load of work he piled up for me on the 2TB flash drive, which was the size of a penny, if that.
I was going to be busy. Hopefully too busy to pay attention to the sultry rookie lawyer in question here.
And let me tell you, this exuberant feeling of being useful for once in my life was not to be underestimated. My value to the Belmont Trust lay solely in my hands, and it was all up to me to prove my worth.
The effect of my pain medication from earlier was petering out, now barely filing the edges of my pain. To ease my discomfort, I found refuge on the Chesterfield couch in Roman’s office.
If I thought Roman was going to be sympathetic and give me a break, it would’ve been a wasted thought.
M isery loved company was the general vibe floating around today.
Sitting behind his desk, Roman continued to explain my new role in the trust. I couldn’t help but admire his tenacity. For how many years had he managed the trust as CEO, doing all this work while I was out partying and being a gigantic prick.
What intensified this guilt trip I’d bought a first-class ticket to, was watching a wounded Roman try to navigate his new reality.
Isabel's disappearance had left him a wreck of a man, and the only way he could cope was by rebuilding that armor he’d always used to shield himself from the world before meeting her.
“For all you know, she’ll come back…and everything will be fine,” I said carefully in a botched effort to comfort him.
My comment was met with a grim smile. “She won’t. You don’t know Isabel,” was all he said.
I had no place to reminisce about true love, so it was lost on me how this kind of devastation felt because of a bond you had with someone else. To have your heart torn into pieces because of one person who had become your world.
That kind of emotional turmoil had to pack a punch.
Except for suffering a couple of infatuations that dwindled as soon as they came to be, I had never had the faintest sliver of the kind of all-consuming love Roman and Isabel shared.
And I had to say, looking at him now, it seemed a bullet I should be happy to dodge.
“If ever you need a shoulder, I’m right here,” I added for good measure.
But all it did was escalate Roman’s bleak mood. “I’m fine,” he said, and with that, my attempt at commiserating with Roman flatlined.
It was somewhat maddening that he chose to shut down instead of dealing with his internal suffering. I ascribed it to our unconventional childhood in which he got the worst end of the whole deal.
While I had Emily to mother me growing up, Roman was away at the Swiss school with no one to coach him that it was okay to surrender to your feelings now and again.
As a result, he had become detached and isolated, not to mention difficult to deal with. His reputation as the inflexible and uncompromising CEO of the Belmont Trust preceded him far and wide.
But then, Isabel had breezed into his life, changing all that, and my brother had totally surrendered to his softer side. Only then to screw up royally, causing her to flee, to who knew where.
Without Isabel, Roman seemed lost, and I felt helpless watching him turn into the Old Roman again, all steely and grim, protecting himself from the reality called life.
This feeling of inadequacy to give my brother some comfort gutted me. I was desperate to be there for him like he’d been there for me.
Roman cleared his throat, plucking me from my moment of musing.
“Next week, I’ll schedule a meeting with you and Meg once she’s settled in,” he said, his voice curt. “There’s a property at Castle Rock I’m developing, and I want you both on board. You can deal with the investors, and Meg will handle the real estate contracts.”
I’ll say this for Roman, he wasn’t going to go easy on either me or Meg. But this time, I had to ask. “It sounds big, do you think she’s up for handling all that—”
“She’ll be fine,” Roman interrupted. “Don’t underestimate Meg’s abilities. It will be a mistake. I’m actually more worried about you pulling it off.”
Those were some fighting words, but I took into account that Roman was not in the best of moods. I had to choose my words carefully. “I’m more than happy to get on board. But I don’t know if you’ve noticed that Meg doesn’t exactly like me.”
He sighed. “Byron, this is a place of work, not a congeniality contest. Welcome to the real world.”
“I’m just saying she might be the one having issues being on the project with me.”
Roman continued, exasperation tinging his tone. “If you don’t think you can work with Meg, I’ll find someone else. But you need to tell me that now.”
The idea of working on a big project with Meg marinated in my mind for a split second.
She hated me, and I, well, let’s just say, was reluctantly entranced by her.
Neither of those conditions allowed for smooth sailing in a working environment, let alone coming up with a Herculean presentation, which would probably mean working together for long hours into the night.
All things considered, it was probably not the brightest idea.
“Oh, you mean you’ll find another contract lawyer to work on it?” I asked, relief rippling through me.
Roman shot me a glare, a sudden sharpness in his eyes. “No, Byron, I’ll find someone else to work with the investors. Meg stays on the project, one way or the other.”
Something like a warning sliced the air. There was no arguing with Roman. I still had a lot of work to do before earning his trust. And the last thing I wanted to do was mess all this up before I even started.
If I had to endure toiling for long hours with Meg Belfiore in close range, I’d put on my big boy pants and handle it like a good man.
“It’s fine, I’ll make it work,” I said.
“Good,” was all Roman said, and dragged a tired hand over his face. It struck me then that I had been home for two days, and during that time, he’d never left his office to go upstairs to his apartment.
“Roman, why don’t you leave some of the more urgent business for me to deal with today? I’ll handle it. You need food, and you need to rest.”
“You’re not exactly in tip-top shape yourself,” he replied. “I don’t see overworking yourself so suddenly helping with getting better.”
“Hey, you’ve handled this shit for years. The least I can do is be there for you now.”
He pushed the flash drive toward the front of his desk and held my gaze. Contemplating my offer, the first hint of warmth flashed behind his fatigue. “That sounds so brotherly. I missed that. It’s good to have you back.”
Before I could offer Roman a chummy reply, Nelson, the British house manager, strutted in looking far from friendly. In fact, if fuck you had a face, he was its poster boy.
I heard through the grapevine that he was blaming Roman for Isabel’s sudden departure, and rightly so.
“Gentlemen,” he greeted us, and if that one word wasn’t filled chockablock with derision and contempt.
“Hey Nelson, my man!” I said pleasantly, figuring I had some groveling to do for all the bratty behavior he had tolerated from me over the years.
Nelson acknowledged me with a poker-faced nod.
“Roman, you sent for me,” Nelson said, unpleasantly.
Roman wavered, and if my eyes weren’t deceiving me, it appeared as if he was cringing a smidgen under Nelson’s granite watch.
“Yes, I did,” Roman said. “Can you please make sure that Meg has everything she needs? It being her first day, let’s make sure she is as comfortable as possible.”
“Of course, that goes without saying,” Nelson said. “But perhaps next time, texting me the information will save me from coming all the way up here?”
There was a second where I thought Roman might lose it, but he thought better of it. “Fine, next time I will text you instead,” he said, like total despair had hijacked what little fight he still had left.
“Will there be anything else?” Nelson asked.
“No, that will be all,” Roman said quietly. “Thank you.”
“Good then,” Nelson said and marched off with a little huff. If it wasn’t for Roman looking so melancholic, I might have laughed.
“I’ll make a note never to get on Nelson’s bad side,” I said in jest, but it got lost in the fragile mood.
Roman emitted a distressed sigh and stood up. “Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer and go upstairs. My assistant Andy will fill you in on the rest.” He pushed a second flash drive (this one red) next to the first. “If you can give this to Meg, I’d appreciate it. It should keep her busy for a while.”
With some difficulty and a groan, I lifted my injured self from the couch, tempted to pull my brother into a reassuring hug. But a lifetime of the Belmont indifference instilled into our psyche prevented me from doing just that.
I palmed the two flash drives from his desk. The black one mine, the red one Meg’s.
“Don’t worry about a thing, you can count on me,” I replied and watched him climb the spiral staircase to his apartment. “And listen, I mean it, if you need to talk about anything--“
But all I got was the door upstairs to his apartment closing with a resounding thud.
It was time to get to work. I decided against taking anything for the pain. The last thing I needed was to get too relaxed. Pain would keep me present and alert. And hopefully less inclined to be enchanted by the woman I was about to work closely with.
At least she hated me with a burning passion, so I had that to buffer any additional admiration I might develop for her.