Chapter 21
Brynne
“It was great to see you, Sherman,” I say to my old friend.
I thought this was just a friendly lunch date with an old high school friend, but five minutes in, I knew he wanted more. Even though he’s married. He claims to be going through a divorce but admits to still living at home with his wife and their four kids. No way. I don’t do married men. I don’t care if they are separated and living separately…and I definitely don't date married men who are shorter than me.
I try to walk fast, but he follows me into the building. “You look good, Brynneka,” he says, biting his bottom lip in what I think is supposed to be a sexy look, but he has spinach stuck in his teeth. I force a smile, which I'm sure looks more like a grimace. He opens his arms, and I lean in for a quick side hug, but he leans in for a kiss. I turn my face, and his lips end up on the side of my mouth. He also had French onion soup for lunch, and I can smell it.
I try to step away, but he tightens his arm around me. The automatic door opens, and I’m relieved until I see Colin Kincaid walk through looking like some superhero. His long gray coat is unbuttoned and floats behind him. I manage to pull away from Sherman. I expect Colin to walk into the elevator and ignore me like he did earlier, but to my surprise, he walks closer to us.
“Brynne,” he says with a nod. “I need to speak with you before our next meeting.”
“Oh, yes. Of course,” I say quickly. “Have a nice afternoon, Sherman.” I shove him away as I practically sprint to the elevator. I slip on something and fall backward, but strong arms grab my shoulders and stand me up.
Colin helps me inside the elevator before he lets me go. A secret part of me wishes he didn’t let go. That same secret part wants him to take me in his arms and kiss me until I go blind with lust. More than that, I want the kiss to transport us through time and space and deliver us back to the resort where everything was new, and the future was optimistic.
“Are you okay?” he asks. He’s not looking at me. He’s looking straight ahead, and I hate that. I love the way he looks at me. Maybe that’s in the past since I’ve made it clear I don’t want anything more to do with him. Maybe I’ve succeeded in turning him off for good.
“Yes, thank you, but that wasn’t necessary.” I clear my throat.
“Really? It wasn’t necessary when it looked like he wanted to shove his tongue down your throat, and it looked like the last thing you wanted. But sure. My help was unnecessary. Have a good afternoon, Ms. Barber.” The doors open, and he walks out without a backward glance or word.
“Brynne,” Ernestine sticks her head in my office, “we have a situation,” she whispers.
“You’re not fighting with the kid again, are you?” I ask.
“You think that little pencil neck is worth arguing with?” She sucks her teeth. “I have shoes older than his scrawny ass.” She inches closer and whispers, “Oliver is here. I put him in the small conference room since he insists on seeing you.”
“Today is the day from hell,” I whisper to myself. First, Sherman and Colin walking in on us at that awkward moment. I was waiting for him to tell me everything would be okay, but after he told me off, he didn’t say another word to me.
I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed.
Ernestine has worked for me for three years now. She’s crossed the line from employee to friend, so she’s privy to my issues with my former stepbrother.
“I’ll deal with him.” I pick up my phone and wave it at her. “I’ll text you if I need you to call security.”
“Well, he’s going to get a foot in his ass while we wait for security to get here.” She follows me out of the office. From the corner of my eye, I see Colin and Heath talking in the breakroom. Heath is showing him his ridiculous French press, and I roll my eyes. For an assistant he has just hired, they are friendly. If I still cared about this company, I’d look into that, but I don’t. They, along with Milton, can go straight to hell.
When I reach the small conference room, Oliver is sitting there looking less smug than in the past. He stands when he sees me, and he looks gaunt. He’s unshaven and in desperate need of a haircut. The coat he’s wearing belonged to his father and is starting to show its age. He smiles, but I don’t smile back. The fake smile disappears, and in its place is the Oliver I remember. The selfish guy who couldn’t bother to visit or care for his dying father. He’s the same guy who left me to deal with everything but then swooped in and claimed everything as his own as soon as his father passed away.
My own mother had passed a few years before. Then Isaiah, my stepfather, got sick and died within a few months. None of my other extended family live nearby; it was just me and Oliver. Or so I thought.
“What is it, Oliver?” I ask. I don’t bother pretending not to be annoyed, and I don’t sit so he doesn’t think I’m here for long.
“I called you a few times.”
“I know. I told you never to call me again, remember?”
“But I need your help, Brynnie,” he says, using the nickname my mom and stepdad used to call me. He’s never called me that. I was always Brynne to him, and once upon a time, when we had a good stepsibling relationship, that was okay.
“I can’t help you.”
“I know you’re the one who bought the house.”
I let out a chuckle. “Well, good on you for checking the public records. Remember that house belonged to my mother when you and your father moved in? It never should have gone to you. It was meant to stay in my family. It should have gone to me.”
I’m not sure why my mother did it, but she added Isaiah’s name to the house. It was paid for, but I know they took out a home equity loan for repairs when I was a teenager, and I wonder if that’s when she had him added. Then when my stepfather passed away, Oliver was his next of kin, and since he never adopted me, my stepbrother got the house that my mother owned. He promptly kicked me out and moved his girlfriend and her two children in. He did this after I had moved out of the dorm to care for his father because he wouldn’t. I had nowhere to go, and if not for Raven taking me in, I don’t know what I would have done.
That was nine years ago, and in that time, Oliver managed to lose the house. Well, I bought it, and it was a complete disaster. It’s a three-family home. We lived on the first floor and rented the other two units. I don’t think he had any tenants, probably because the other two apartments were in disrepair.
“You can let me live in one of the apartments.” I shake my head at his audacity. That’s the same suggestion I made to him. In fact, I offered to move to the half-finished basement, but he said he was going to make a playroom for his girlfriend’s kids and that he was going to rent the other two. Now, here he is, asking for the same thing he could not bother to give me.
Actually, he’s asking for more. I asked for a half-finished basement in a house my mother owned. He’s demanding an apartment, and I guarantee he’s not offering to pay rent.
“Sure. When the repairs are done, you can fill out an application. If you have the correct credit score and enough income, there won’t be any problems.” I know he won’t qualify. I don’t know what his work situation is, but he is here mid-day on a Monday dressed in gray sweatpants that have seen better days. None of that suggests someone who is gainfully employed.
“You know I have a tax lien on my record. I’m not getting approved.”
“Well, I don’t know what to tell you.” I open the conference room door and gesture for him to leave.
“You can’t be that petty,” he says, “or that vengeful.”
“I’m neither of those things, Oliver. I didn’t buy the house you lost to get back at you. I bought it back because it should have been mine all along, and now it is, but let me ask you this. If someone else had bought the house, would you have tracked them down and demanded an apartment? Would you be so entitled, or is it because it’s me?”
“We’re family,” he says, and I let out a genuine laugh.
“We’re not anymore. You were my stepbrother. Both our parents are dead. Nothing else ties us, and I bought the house because it belongs to my family. Even though it was paid for when you got it,” I toss out. I look at him up and down and shake my head in disgust.
“So, you’re just going to—”
“I’m not going to do anything. I’ve already done it.”
Just as I open the door so Oliver can leave, Colin and Heath walk by, both holding a mug and laughing like they’re best friends.
Colin stops when he looks into the room. He eyes Oliver, hands his mug to Heath, and tells him to wait in his office. He enters the room.
“ Goodbye , Oliver,” I snap.
“I’ll go, but we still need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. Get out.”
“She said out,” Colin says. “Now, before I call security.” Oliver raises both hands and slithers out of the conference room. We stand by the door until he leaves the office. Once he’s gone, Colin turns to me. “Who the hell was that, and why did I have to save you twice today from the shady men in your life?”
“You didn’t save me from a thing.” I try to walk past him, but he closes the door and leans against it.
“Are you okay?” he asks, taking me off balance. He lowers his voice, and he puts a hand on my cheek. The touch is so sudden and so unexpected that I don’t move. I look into his blue eyes, and I remember everything. Every kiss. Every touch. Everything. And at this moment, I know if he takes me in his arms, I will not push him away. I would embrace it.
“I’m fine,” I say after clearing my throat. “He’s my former stepbrother.”
“Former?”
“Well, his dad is dead, and so is my mom. So, yes, former.” He strokes my cheek, and I still don’t pull away.
“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “What about your biological dad?”
“He’s alive. He lives in Seattle, so I don’t see him much.” I haven’t seen him since my mother’s funeral. He flew in for two days, and as soon as she was buried, he took an afternoon flight back home.
“And what the hell did that guy want?” he asks. I finally remember where I am and who I’m with and step away. He drops his hand, and I miss his touch.
“Don’t worry about it. He’s not gonna get it. If you will excuse me, Mr. Kincaid. I have a teleconference with a client.” I try to walk past him, but he won’t move.
“Right. The apartment complex. I’ll be on that call.”
“You will not,” I insist. “Milton never micromanaged me, and he assured me that nothing would change, and in the past, I’ve been able to choose who I want to work with. I told you in the restaurant that—"
Girl, why do you still trust that old man? He screwed you over. He kept you in his back pocket and tossed you aside like you were yesterday’s news when his nephew decided he wanted the job.
“He said he wanted you to continue working here, but he said I get to run the office my way, and for now, I’m in all the meetings. I’ll also need to see the plans before the meeting.” He looks at his watch. “And for the record, Brynne, you don’t tell me anything. Got it?”
“It’s not my place to tell you anything, but it’s your place to tell me what to do?” I challenge.
He stares at me while I wait for his response. “It’s my job to run this business,” he says softly. “I’m not a dictator. I want us to work together. That’s all.”
I open my mouth to tell him off and to tell him it will be a cold day in hell before I do anything he says, but I shut it. I need something from him, and being combative won’t get me what I want. I’m only going to ask because it’s for Ernestine, not me. Hopefully, she’ll also tone down the attitude until we get this approved. As of now, he’s the only one who can approve it.
“Of course,” I say as calmly as possible. I don’t think he trusts me because his eyes narrow.
“You better not try any sneaky shit,” he warns.
“That’s your territory,” I whisper.
“Excuse me? What did you say?” he asks.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask him what the hell he’s going to do about it if I do try some sneaky shit, but I swallow those words. “Meet me in the large conference room in an hour, and I’ll gladly show you what I’ve done. Then we can have the meeting.”