Chapter 9 #3
The elevator doors close on Richard’s red face, and the office falls into tense silence. Iris stands there for a moment, clearly mortified by what just happened. “I need... I need some air,” she says quietly, heading toward the stairwell that leads to the roof.
Eve starts to follow her, but Jake raises a hand, his expression now serious, his brow furrowed with concern. “Let me handle this,” he says quietly.
“She’s my boss,” Eve protests. “I should—”
“I need to talk to her about pursuing this through HR,” Jake says, his tone professional. “This kind of workplace harassment needs to be documented properly. I’ll make sure she’s okay.” I watch my brother’s face, seeing how easily he shifts from charming and dangerous to focused lawyer.
He’s right. If this is an ongoing situation, it could become a legal nightmare for the company.
“How bad do you think things are at home?” I ask Eve quietly as Jake heads toward the stairwell.
Eve’s face is troubled as she sinks back into her chair. “I didn’t think it was that bad,” she admits. “I mean, I knew they argued sometimes, but this...” She runs a hand through her hair. “I’m worried about her now.”
The realization sits heavy in my stomach. “Shit.”
“Yeah.” Eve’s expression is grim. “Shit.”
* * *
By six-thirty, the office has mostly cleared out. I finish up the last of my notes on the Serastra campaign and pack up my things, but I can’t shake the image of Iris’s face from this afternoon. The embarrassment, the way she flinched when Richard said they lived together.
I find myself standing outside her office door, my hand raised to knock. What am I even going to say? We barely know each other beyond work. But the image of Richard grabbing her wrist won’t leave my head.
Finally, I knock softly. “Iris? You okay?”
“Come in,” she calls, her voice tired. She’s still at her desk, staring at her computer screen, but I can tell she’s not really seeing it. There’s a weariness to her that wasn’t there this morning. “I’m fine, Caleb. Thank you for asking.”
I hesitate in the doorway. “Listen, I know we don’t know each other that well, but if you need a place to crash tonight...” I trail off, feeling awkward. “I mean, if you don’t want to go home or whatever.”
Her eyes warm, and for the first time today, she gives me a genuine smile. “That’s a sweet offer, but I got a hotel room for tonight. I just need some space to think.”
Relief floods through me. At least she’s not going home to deal with more of Richard’s bullshit. “Good. That’s good.”
I’m about to leave when I spot Jake lounging against my desk like he owns the place, scrolling through his phone with casual interest.
“Why are you lurking by my desk?” I ask as I approach him, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “What is this sudden obsession with me?”
He looks up with that lazy grin of his. “Can’t a brother check in on his favorite sibling?”
“I’m not your favorite sibling, and you usually stick to your own floor. What do you want?”
“To talk.” He straightens. “Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.”
“Must be serious for you to be buying me food.” I raise my eyebrows. “You wouldn’t get me a bottle of water if my life depended on it.”
Jake strolls towards the elevator. “Now you’re just being dramatic. I’d get you water if you were dying. Maybe a cheap bottle, but I’d get it for you.”
I roll my eyes. “Gee, thanks.”
I press the button for the garage and ask, “So, is Iris pursuing the harassment complaint?”
Jake’s amusement fades, his expression darkening. “She said she needs time to think about it. Claims Richard’s not usually like this. Though since he was drinking during office hours, HR’s going to deal with that separately. Company policy and all.”
The elevator doors close, and Jake leans against the wall, studying me. “Speaking of family drama, when’s the last time you talked to Megan?”
“Sunday. Why?”
“She mention her boyfriend lately?”
I think about my last conversation with our baby sister. “She mentioned some issues with him. Why?”
Jake’s expression grows serious. “Because I saw him with another woman yesterday. They looked pretty cozy at that coffee shop on Fifth.”
“She already knows,” I say grimly. “Has for a while apparently. She’s just... handling it her own way.”
“What do you mean ‘her own way’?” Jake’s voice sharpens with concern. “And if you knew, why didn’t you tell me?”
I remember Megan’s terrifying smile when she talked about breaking Tom’s spirit. “Megan doesn’t want us interfering.”
“And you’re just going to let her do what she wants when this bastard is running around the city, cheating on her?”
My lips curve as we exit into the underground parking garage. “Now, is that something I would do?”
Jake rocks on his heels, watching me. “What’re you planning?”
I open the driver’s side door and slip in, looking up at him. “Thought I’d have a chat with him. You want to tag along?”
Jake’s eyebrows rise with interest, and a slow smile forms on his lips. “Sounds fun.”
I gesture with my head towards the passenger seat, adrenaline already starting to pump through my veins. “There’s this dive bar on the Lower East Side where he goes every Thursday night with his little garage band. Plays terrible music and apparently picks up women while Megan thinks he’s at home.”
“And you were planning to do what, exactly?” Jake asks as he settles into the passenger seat, but there’s approval in his voice. “Aside from your chat?”
I start the engine, feeling that familiar rush of anticipation that comes before I do something I probably shouldn’t. “Have a conversation. The kind that involves making it very clear what happens to men who hurt our sister.”
Jake’s grin turns predatory. “Now that sounds like a plan I can get behind.”
The drive downtown is filled with a comfortable tension, the kind that comes when you’re about to do something that might land you in jail but feels absolutely necessary.
I’m drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, running through scenarios in my head.
Jake’s scrolling through his phone, probably researching whatever legal loopholes we might need if things go sideways.
“So what’s the plan?” Jake asks as we hit a red light. “Walk in and introduce ourselves as the concerned family?”
“Something like that.” My blood is singing with anticipation. “I figure we start polite, see if he’s reasonable. If not...” I shrug, letting the implication hang.
“You know, I’ve been waiting for an excuse to punch someone all week,” Jake muses. “Richard doesn’t count—too easy, and Iris was watching.”
I’m about to respond when I spot a familiar figure walking down the sidewalk. Tall, dark hair, wearing a dress shirt that’s seen better days. My youngest brother looks like he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Holy shit,” I mutter, pulling over to the curb and rolling down my window. “Nick!”
My brother looks up, startled. The exhaustion in his eyes lifts slightly as he recognizes us, and then his face breaks into the first genuine smile I’ve seen from him in months. But then again, I’ve not seen him since his son was born. He’s stopped coming to family dinners.
“What are you two idiots doing in this neighborhood?” he asks, jogging over to the car.
“We’re on our way to have a heart-to-heart with Megan’s cheating boyfriend,” Jake says through the open window, his voice casual like he’s discussing the weather. “Want in?”
Nick’s expression shifts, the smile fading into something darker. “He’s cheating on Megan?”
“Has been for weeks,” I confirm, watching my brother’s jaw tighten. “We’re heading to his usual hangout to explain why that’s not acceptable.”
For a moment, Nick just stands there, and I can practically see him weighing his options. He’s been dealing with his own relationship drama, drowning in the toxic mess that is his marriage to Elisha. But mention someone hurting our baby sister, and suddenly he’s focused.
He opens the backdoor and slides in. “I need to hit something that isn’t a wall in my apartment.”
“That’s the spirit,” Jake says cheerfully, settling back into his seat as I pull into traffic.
I catch Nick’s eyes in the rearview mirror. There’s something there—anger, yes, but also relief. Like he’s been waiting for an excuse to channel all his frustration into something productive.
“So,” I begin lightly, “how’s Elisha and the baby?”
His expression falters. “Fine.”
“Really?” I drawl. “And you were roaming out here at seven in the evening because…?”
“Did she kick you out again?” Jake asks. His voice is calm, but I hear the anger in it.
“Her mother did,” Nick admits after a while. “Elisha maxed out all the credit cards again. When I questioned her about it, her mother kicked me out.”
My hands tighten around the steering wheel. “Why was her mother there in the first place?”
“She’s moved in. Apparently Elisha doesn’t trust me not to have my family over to meet Damien when she’s out with her friends.”
“Nick.” Anger washes over me. “You know how fucked up that sounds, right?”
“I’m aware.” The bitterness in my younger brother’s voice has me wanting to swerve the car around and head to his apartment to have a few words with his wife.
Jake doesn’t say anything. When I look over, he’s gazing out the window, his reflection showing his thoughtful expression.
“Jake?”
Our older brother shrugs. “Don’t look at me. This is a decision Nick has to make. She’s isolating him, and he knows that. This is abusive behavior.”
Nick scowls. “I’m a man—”
“Men also get abused, Nick.” Jake’s voice is gentle but firm. “She may not be physically violent toward you, but if you were in her place and receiving the same treatment, you would call it abuse, wouldn’t you?”
Nick falls silent. “She’s just—”
“If I were you, I would start documenting everything. Because there are only two outcomes in this situation. You hand over all the property she wants, and your marriage survives, and she might allow you to see your family. Or you don’t give in, and you head towards divorce.
You’re young. You’ll find somebody else.
Someone who respects you and loves you. Someone who doesn’t stop you from meeting with your family and doesn’t kick you out of the house without your car keys and a coat. ”
Our brother stiffens. “I have a son, Jake. You expect me to leave Damien—”
“I’ll help you get full custody if she’s an unfit mother,” Jake cuts him off. “Or shared custody if she loves your son and truly looks after him. You have options, Nick. Don’t act like you don’t. The whole family is ready to stand behind you if you decide to leave. You know that.”
Nick is silent, and my heart sinks. He’s still not ready to give up on this marriage.
Stubborn bastard.
“Forget about me,” he finally says. “What’s the plan?”
Sighing, I take a turn at the intersection and focus on the road. “We’re going to have a civilized conversation. And if he’s not interested in being civilized...” I sneer at his reflection in the rearview mirror.
“Then we get creative,” Jake finishes with satisfaction.