Fourteen #2
Asher’s eyes lock with mine. “You’re a deep, dark well I’ll never fully be able to read, brother, but I know you in the ways that matter. I get why you did what you did. And, while I don’t agree with your methods, I understand. I’ve always trusted you with Isla.”
My heart squeezes, a lump forming in my throat. I don’t know how to handle the gravity of his words, so I stay quiet, letting their weight settle in my chest.
“Sure, you may have gone the MBA route, but you’ve always been an artist at heart. You also know how to shut up and listen when it counts. I was certain your soul would resonate with Isla’s in a way that not even Mom’s could. I knew, without a doubt, you’d be who she needed back then. ”
“And… now ?” The question slips out before I can figure out what the hell I’m even asking. I don’t need Asher’s approval—or his permission. But, when it comes to Isla, his opinion carries more power than I’d like to admit.
“Always!” he shouts, his voice loud enough to send a pair of crows squawking up into the winter-gray sky, their wings slicing through the air like black arrows.
He watches them fly away before forging on. “That’s why I never understood your anger with me when I talked her into applying to AdCraft after she graduated. I thought being at the same company would be—”
“A mistake,” I cut him off. “That entire firm is a mistake.”
A big promotion had planted me halfway across the world for most of Isla’s college years, leaving me out of touch, out of reach. When I found out Asher had pushed her into a Junior Designer position at AdCraft, I’d lost it.
“The place is a corporate septic tank. Always will be. Nepotism, exploitation, harassment…” I wince. “I had no idea she’d accepted the job offer until it was too late to convince her to go elsewhere.”
Not that she’d have listened. When I did try to get her to quit, she took it as me doubting her talent. She thought I didn’t believe in her skills.
“Is that why you left Tokyo?” Asher frowns. “How is this the first time we’re discussing such an important piece of history?”
I shrug, unsure how to respond. The whole talk-about-feelings thing isn’t our M.O.—though not for Asher’s lack of trying.
“You said you wanted to be closer to family.” He gestures in the direction of our parents’ house. “To Jovie. ”
“That was true. I wanted to be there for all of you.” At that point, Isla was family, too. She just didn’t know it. And, frankly, I did a shit job of showing it.
He rubs his forehead. “After my selfish stint with Continental Chronicle s, it struck me as wild that you’d take a pay cut and trade the coveted role of Director of International Marketing for a lower position back at headquarters.
I should’ve known it was because of her.
But you were on the outs, barely talking, so it wasn’t obvious. ”
“Yeah, well…” I also tried to convince myself the move had nothing to do with Isla.
“What had you so worried?” he asks, frowning.
“The founder’s grandsons are talentless parasites who turned abusing three-letter titles into a full-time sport.
” I grind my teeth so hard I’m surprised my jaw doesn’t crack.
“While I was there, they made a game of breaking in new recruits, betting on who could corrupt them in the most twisted ways. Drugs. Parties. Fake mentorships that fast-tracked to sexual harassment. Nothing was off-limits. Their last name made them untouchable. And the constant churn of entry-level hires helped to cover their tracks.”
Asher’s grimace deepens, and I see the wheels turning in his head. “AdCraft is a global firm. Don’t they have a Human Resources department to protect its employees?”
I scoff. “HR folds the second bloodlines get involved—especially when that blood flows straight back to the man with majority control. A pig who thinks board meetings are beneath him and policies are optional guidelines for peasants.”
My brother’s eyes widen. He slides a hand over his cheek, exhaling like he’s just been slapped. “Is that why you’ve been begging me to convince Isla to give your firm a chance?”
“I want her out of there, Ash. ”
“Well, she’s actually—” He stops, abruptly changing direction. “Never mind. You need to talk to her. Really talk to her.”
He scans our surroundings, zoning in on the direction of Isla and Willow’s faint chatter.
“It’s time, Theo. There are too many things left unsaid.
If you wait any longer, someone else will come along and say them for you.
And, next time, it won’t be fake. It’ll be real.
Permanent.” Stepping into my line of sight, he grips my arm, tugging at it. “What the hell is stopping you?”
The truth claws its way out in one exhaled word. “Fear.”
Fear that six years of distance has made me too late. Fear of finally getting what I want and not knowing what to do with it. Fear of losing her— again .
Asher slaps a hand on my back. “Since when has that bastard ever had a shot against you?”
As he strides away, the forest falls into an eerie silence. And that’s when Isla’s laugh breaks through, its sweet melody carried on the wind.
I clench my fists. Enough. I’ve waited long enough.
Fuck fear.