Chapter 13
Brynne
Brynne, you stupid, fucking idiot. If I could go back in time, I’d smack myself in the pussy for letting this con artist get anywhere near me. Then, I’d go back a few more years and make a different career choice. I would have gone with the big corporate firm, not the smaller one, but I’ve had a great career here. Milton Kincaid took me under his wing. He mentored me and taught me everything I know, but he’s a snake, and I should have known better. I’ve been played before, but this one played me like a violin, and I just let him. When did I turn into a simpering teenager who falls for a man with washboard abs and a sexy smile?
He sits here in a designer suit when he pranced around shirtless, making questionable footwear choices, and I fell for it. I let him in my body. Not only that, but I also let him in my head. I allowed him to convince me that we would have some kind of future together when he’s been playing me the entire time. Now, he’s pretending he didn’t know who I was, as if the universe would be cruel enough for this to be a coincidence. No, this guy is maniacal.
I look down at the salary again. As much as I want and need this money, I’m not for sale.
“I can’t accept this.” I stand, ready to make my exit. There are plenty of other firms who would hire me. Milton doesn’t know this, but I always get calls from competitors.
They won’t pay this much, and when they learn Milton promoted his nephew instead of me, they might question my abilities. I eye Colin again, who also stands. Milton does the same and reaches for my hand. Like always, it’s warm. We’ve had a good relationship. From the moment I met Milton Kincaid, we’ve had a good rapport, but not after today. I pull my hand away, but he holds on to it.
“Please sit,” he says, gesturing at my empty chair with his free hand.
“I’m tendering my resignation effective immediately,” I say and try to pull my hand away. “I can’t—”
“I’m not trying to push you out, Brynne,” he says softly. “I don’t accept your resignation.”
He’ll have no choice once I return to my office and send an email to him and Human Resources. I’d rather walk out of here right now than face the other man in the room. The man, who just a few days ago, made me feel more alive than I have in years.
Fuck it. I won’t bother notifying HR. I’ll pack up my shit and leave. Fuck this place and fuck the entire Kincaid family.
“Talk to Paddy Cake,” he says.
“Can you not call me that at work, Uncle Milton?” Colin asks. I see a tinge of red on his cheeks.
That’s another thing. The short beard he had on vacation is gone. His face is clean-shaven. And I hate myself for still being attracted to him.
Milton’s phone rings, and he pulls it out of his pocket. “Excuse me. I have to take this.” He practically runs out of the conference room, and once he closes the door, I decide to look at Colin.
The instant I turn my head, our eyes lock. We’re like two magnets. I take a step back but don’t look away as I try and figure out how I could have gotten it all wrong. How could I have fallen for this man in such a short time? He takes a step closer, and I take one back, holding one hand up to signal for him to stop his approach. He doesn’t listen and keeps moving forward. I move back until I reach the wall of windows behind me.
“Stop,” I say. “Don’t touch me.” His steps falter, but he doesn’t look away. He seems shocked and hurt by my words. “Don’t you fucking come near me.”
“I didn’t know.” He points to the door. “I didn’t—”
“Bullshit. Please, don’t lie to me. You’ve done enough of that in the past two weeks.”
“What?” he asks. “I’ve never lied to you. I would never. This is—”
“This is what?” I ask when he stops mid-sentence. “This is you stealing my job, Colin Kincaid!” I feel the venom spouting out of me when I speak his name. Everyone knows the Kincaid family. They’re rich and run one of the biggest renewable energy companies in the world.
“I didn’t steal a damn thing,” he hisses, then he catches himself, lowers his voice and says, “He’s been begging me to work for him for years.”
“Then why didn’t you?” I ask. “Why now?”
“Because I’ve been living in California for over a decade, just like I told you when we met. I wanted to move back to the East Coast. He said I’d be running things and wanted a Kincaid in charge.”
“Oh? I’ve never even heard of you before today. He’s never mentioned an architect nephew, and here you are taking the one thing he had promised me .” I point to myself. “You don’t even need this job.” He has mentioned this Paddy before, but you’d think he would tell me he’s an architect, too; Milton never once brought it up. I’m sure that was intentional.
He takes a step back and runs a hand through his hair. It all makes sense now. Well, no, it doesn’t. It will never make sense, but I knew he was well off. I never thought he’d be connected to my job. And eventually, take it from me.
“I’ve always been Milton’s nephew, and you admitted not too long ago that he has talked about me. Look, I don’t want to take your job. That’s not my intention. He dropped this bomb on me this morning, and I figured out who you were five seconds before you walked in.” He takes a deep breath and moves closer, but I shake my head at him.
“Lies,” I whisper-shout. “You reverse catfished me.”
“I did what ?” He doesn’t bother to whisper. He practically shouts the question. “What the hell is a reverse catfish?”
“Were they all paid actors?” I finally leave the wall of windows so I can point in his face. “Your so-called friends. I bet there was no wedding. Did you have someone Photoshop those pictures you sent me? Were they AI? And you made the black guy the angry one.” I shake my head sadly at him. “Typical.”
“Every picture I sent you was real, as was every video,” he says. “You think I planned this? I discovered who you were? Followed you on vacation? And what? Did the Jedi mind trick on you to get you into bed?”
I look around the office before I say, “Don’t you ever mention that again. That’s the biggest mistake of my life.” I run a hand down my pants to wipe my sweaty palms. The one time I let loose and go against my true nature, this happens. I fall for a liar and a con artist.
“Mistake?” he asks, as if that word hurts him. “You think what happened between us was a mistake?”
“I told you never to mention that again,” I hiss.
“Or what?” he challenges.
Milton strolls back in as if he didn’t just detonate a bomb. He’s looking down at his phone but doesn’t smile. He seems tense, and I doubt whatever that phone call was about has anything to do with what’s happening in this room. Then he looks up and must sense the tension because he clears his throat.
“Brynne, I want you to know how valued you are here,” he says. He’s said that to me before, and each time, I believed him, but not today. Today, I feel gutted and discarded. Today, I feel like an outsider looking in, and even though Colin Kincaid is the new person, I feel like a guest.
Milton gestures to my chair, and I sit without uttering a single word. They would be wasted here. What I need to do is figure out my next move. The salary is more than I expected with the promotion, and I wonder if Milton offered it to me, knowing it would be impossible for another company to match it or even come close.
Of course, he knew that. That old man might be nice, but he’s shrewd. He’s always one step ahead of everyone, and I feel like I got played. Like I was the backup plan until his number-one pick finally agreed to come home.
“I want you to continue with us,” he says. His voice is back to the tone of my mentor.
“But the thing is, Milton, I don’t feel valued here,” is all I say. And since my name is not Kincaid, I’ve reached as far as I’m going to go in this company. I want to say that as I ball up his offer and throw it in his face, but I bite my tongue. I need that money. I’ve run down my savings to practically nothing, and I need to start saving again. There’s also this non-compete clause I’d have to abide by for a year. Unless I get fired; then the non-compete clause doesn’t apply. I negotiated that myself when I started, but again, I need the salary. Quitting now is not the smartest move I can make.
If I stay two more years, I can afford to quit and not work for a year. Maybe I can do what I’ve always wanted and start my own freelance company, and I’ll never have to worry about an old man taking something away from me again. The icing on the cake will be telling Milton and his nephew to kiss my black behind on my way out the door.
“As you can see, the offer is more than generous.” I don’t respond because it is, and he knows that I know that. We both know what the market pays to architects. We’ve talked about it many times. “And I need you to help Colin.”
“Of course.” I side-eye Colin, who is now looking at me with his eyes narrowed. I don’t think he buys my docility. Good. He shouldn’t.
“I’m going to have Ernestine order lunch for the entire office. We’ll announce Colin's the new boss, and we’ll introduce him to the office.”
“ We ?” I ask. Who the fuck is we? That’s what I want to ask, but I can’t, so I swallow those words.
“Other than me, you’re the most senior person here.” I’m not. There are architects older than me, but I know what he means. They’re not interested in moving up. They’re content doing their job and going home. “Nothing will change. Ernestine will also be assisting Colin.”
“But she’s my personal assistant,” I remind him. I hired her, and she works for me. If he tells me she’s going to report to Colin now, I’ll walk.
“Yes, but she can help him too.”
“I can bring in my own assistant,” Colin says, and his arrogant and entitled attitude makes my nostrils flare. “But I can use Brynne’s help.”
My eyes lock with him again. I clench my jaw. It will be a very cold day in hell before I’ll help him. I wouldn’t help him cross the street, never mind navigate the office politics.
I stand abruptly and say, “I just remembered I have a conference call with a client in ten minutes that I must prepare for. Excuse me.” I walk out without another word.