Chapter 3
THREE
GARRETT
This Christmas
Manhattan, New York
“Mr. West! Mr. West! How serious are the rumors about your company purchasing Netflix? Does this mean you’re selling your shares of YouTube?”
I ignore questions from the press as I walk out of the Empire State Building. I’ve just given them three hours of my time and allowed them to ask whatever questions they wanted, but of course, it’s never enough.
I make a beeline through their huddle and slip into my younger brother Seth’s town car.
The moment I shut the door, his driver speeds toward West Media headquarters.
“You know, this might be the first time that you looked like a CEO who gives a damn at a press conference.” Seth smiles. “I almost believed that you had a heart while you were up there. Good job.”
“Fuck you, Seth.”
He laughs and pulls a bright green box from his briefcase. “Here. Dad wanted me to give this to you.”
I grab it, placing it between us.
“You’re not going to open it?”
“Not without calling the bomb squad first.”
“He bought you a pen.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s an engraved pen that says, ‘I miss our old holidays & I’m sorry,’ in case you want to know. He also wrote you a short letter. I’m sure it’s a bit different from the one he gave to me, but …”
I tune out his voice and look out the window. Stop and go traffic is far more interesting than anything my father has to say after years of treating me like nothing.
A switch went off for him the moment he lost my mother, and he transformed into a coldhearted bastard who raised his children like soldiers instead of sons. As far as I was concerned, our relationship wasn’t worth the years of circuitry and labor it cost to fix.
He’s not sorry about anything. He needs money.
I let out a sigh and pull out my phone. I scroll down to Savannah’s name to send her a quick text.
Me: My father is attempting to play the sympathy card again. How much money did I send him last time? I forgot.
Her response is instant as always.
S. Grey (She’s Not Yours…): Fifty-thousand. I advised you to send seventy-five. Would you like me to send the remainder now? (How sure are you about the blue dress?)
Me: Yes. Thank you. (500%)
I tap my fingers against the screen, wanting to ask for a picture of her wearing this dress, but I know that’s crossing the line.
The two of us dance around each other every day—somehow never spinning into one another. The tension between us is palpable and ever-present, but we pretend like it doesn’t exist.
S. Grey (She’s Not Yours…): Not that I value your opinion, because I don’t, but since you’ve never seen it, do you think this will work for Joshua? [img.]
The image downloads and my cock instantly stiffens. The dress is an extremely low cut one that exposes the mounds of her C-cup breasts.The fabric clings to her curves in all the right places, cinching her right at the waist.
Right where I would start kissing her before going lower…
It takes everything in me not to text “Joshua doesn’t deserve you,” but I hold back.
Me: Dress is perfect. You can go back to work now. Your office isn’t designed for fashion shows, and I’m not paying you a multi-six-figure salary to help pick dresses.
S. Grey (She’s Not Yours…): *middle finger emoji*
“So, uh… I’m not coming to the party this year.” Seth’s words jerk me out of my thoughts.
“Excuse me?”
“I meant to tell you last night but I got busy with the Yardley proposal. Aren’t you going to ask me why I won’t be there?”
“Not at all.”
“Well, I’ll tell you anyway. I’m proposing to Amelie Foster—the woman I introduced you to a few months ago.” He looks as if he’s waiting for me to tell him that this is okay. That he’s somehow above the rules because he’s the C.F.O. and wants to run off for personal reasons.
I cross my arms and keep him waiting.
“She’s the love of my life.” He pulls a small velvet box from his pocket and opens it, showing me a massive diamond ring. “I know it’s fast, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and I hope she says yes.”
“Amelie Foster used to work in Accounting,” I say. “Did you start dating her before or after she quit?”
“What does that matter?” He scoffs. “She doesn’t work for you now, so hang up whatever fantasy you have of making your younger brother an example of your iron fist rule.”
“I’m just asking a question.”
“And I’m refusing to give you an answer.” He glares at me. “Would you prefer if I handled Amelie like you handle Savannah?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t play stupid.” He shrugs. “I should walk around in denial and focus on my job, right?”
“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about,” I say. “But I will make an example out of you, and if you don’t show up with everyone else, I’ll be hiring a new C.F.O. in January. You’re supposed to be my partner.”
“Your business partner. Not a psycho who lives, breathes, and eats work twenty-four hours a day.” He rolls his eyes. “I have a life, Garrett.”
“So do I.”
“Do you?” He looks me right in my eyes. “Because for the past decade and a half, the only things you’ve talked about are West Media and all the films and production studios you’re operating. Which is quite ironic, because I don’t think you’ve sat through a single movie in years.”
I try to refute that, but it’s true. The longest video I can remember watching is on YouTube.
“Exactly.” He opens his door as the driver parks in front of headquarters. “Get over yourself.”
I wait a few seconds before stepping out into the snow. Then I take my time walking inside so I won’t have to talk with Seth again until lunch.
I take the elevator up to my floor and see a delivery man looking around for the receptionist. He seems beyond lost and he’s holding flowers that look like they have one more day of life in them at best.
“What’s this for?” I ask.
“A delivery, sir.” He extends them to me. “They’re for a Savannah Grey.”
“They can’t be.” I’m certain they’re for someone else. “She’s allergic to lilies.”
“Well, you may want to take that up with the sender, sir.” He flips the tag over. “I’m not responsible for anything else past this point. Merry Christmas.”
I look down and read the note.
Happy Holidays, babe!
I know you hate the long-distance, but it’s only temporary.
Anyway, I thought of you today and wanted to send you something special before dinner.
These flowers may look slightly old, but it’s only because I traveled all across town to find the right ones.
I can’t wait to see you tonight.
Joshua
Note for the delivery driver:
Can you make sure the price tag is ripped off before you hand them to her? Thanks!
The driver hasn’t followed the directions, as I can still see the tag.
1-Week Old Flower(s) Special! 75% off $5.99!
Jesus Christ.