Unmistakably Mine (West Coast Suits #1)

Chapter 1

Ryder

There is no returning from some mistakes I think as I stare at the phone in my hand. I’m sitting at my desk in the penthouse tower owned by my family’s real estate and restaurant franchise empire. My other thought is, How the hell do I fix this?

I blow out a breath, staring at the incriminating video on my phone.

My forehead is slick when I never sweat.

I’m the cool one of the Alexander brothers.

Ryder Alexander, also known as me, is the brother known for talking his way out of his ass while closing multi-million-dollar acquisitions.

I’m also the one least likely to be appointed CEO.

But was it my fault that my brother endured a massive tragedy and felt the need to live in the fucking bush?

Or that my dad was sick, leaving me to handle everything?

I pick up the phone about to call my brother, Miles. Then I hang up. My big brother can’t deal with this. And I can’t cope with him lecturing me when he should be in charge.

I stare at the moving image on the screen. Seeing my emotional outburst makes me cringe when my assistant walks in the door. I flip over my phone on the desk, adjust my lapel, and sit straighter.

“What on earth is wrong with you, boss?” Lee scowls, walking up to my desk. He squints at my phone.

“Why?”

He places a black coffee on my desk, and the bold scent hits me.

“You look like death. And that says a lot.” I guess it does because my employee always tells me how he wishes he had my cheekbones and my long eyelashes like I need to hear that, even if I’ll admit it’s flattering.

He’s clarified I’m not his type on many occasions. I’m too testosterone-heavy.

“I had a late night,” I say.

“Must have been some night.”

“Don’t look at me like that.” I reach for the mug and sniff it. “Is there bourbon in it?”

“That bad?”

“If I want to talk, I’ll let you know,” I grumble, sipping on my hot coffee and swiveling my leather chair to look at the view of the glass towers of downtown Vancouver below me and the Pacific Ocean in the distance.

“Text me if you need anything,” Lee says, walking to the door of my massive penthouse office. “It’s a slow day. No acquisitions, mergers, or lawsuits. Not one drop of decent gossip to be found. I could take your suits to the dry cleaners. Why are those—”

“Don’t!” I jerk, spilling coffee over my front. “Fuck.” I stand up, the scalding brown liquid dripping off me.

“Ryder? Is everything okay?”

“It will be as long as you don’t touch my stuff,” I say.

“Okay…” He looks at me funny. “Should I be concerned? You’re worrying me. You know that, right?”

“Because my priority as CEO of this billion-dollar empire is to make sure you don’t worry.” I shake the coffee off my hands. Brown stains spread down the front of my white shirt.

“Another bespoke suit down the drain.” Lee sighs. “Such a waste.”

“What did you say?” I grimace, the wet material sticking to my limbs.

“Nothing, I’ll get you a new one.”

“That’s more like it.”

Lee backs to the door, looking at me like I’ve lost it, which I have. He should have some respect. I suppose letting my last girlfriend do the hiring was a bad idea, even if she was a supermodel with very nice supermodel friends.

“Hey, Lee.”

“Yes, boss.” He turns around. “Remember when you told me you had a friend who worked in the PR business for movie stars and could bury anything?”

“Yes, why?” He gives me a suspicious look.

“I need you to get me a meeting with him.”

“You mean her?”

“He, she, I don’t care. Just do it.”

“Your wish is my command.” He shuts the door before it creeps back open, and he pops his head through it. “Thank you for making my day more interesting.”

“Get me another suit,” I growl out at the shutting door.

My heart is hammering, and my head is pounding. Honestly, I don’t know what the hell to do. It’s like no time goes by when Lee is back, waltzing through my door.

“Your lunch date is here,” he says.

Lunch date? I have to think for a minute. Oh crap, that. It’s Zachary, an admired colleague of my dad’s and an influential French business executive. He’s in from the South of France and walking my way with a big smile. My wet suit is turning cold and damp as I stand up.

“Ryder. Good to see you.” He holds out his hand, and I shake it firmly.

“Is everything okay?” he asks. I think about how terrible it would be if he knew what I did. He’d probably report to Dad that I screwed his company up when he was in the hospital.

“It’s all good, Zach.” I shake his hand firmly. “Just some spilled coffee. It’s been a while.”

“I thought I should give you some space. I’m sorry your father is under the weather. I’ve always looked up to him.”

“Thanks,” I say. Hearing his words only makes my gut twist harder. “It’s been a difficult time.”

“I can imagine,” he says when Lee walks in and hands me a fresh suit.

“I’ll just be a minute.” I excuse myself to change and join Zachary in the foyer.

We walk down a long hall, past the glass cubicles, and to the elevator. It’s a quiet ride where I stew over losing my cool last night, the pressure of the past few weeks getting to me. “The weather’s great,” Zachary says.

“It’s only July in Vancouver. The weather doesn’t get more perfect,” I say. We step out onto to the street, and sunshine blasts us. Commuters pace down the groomed sidewalks as cars speed by. It’s a few blocks to the seawall. We stroll downhill toward the water and past the high-end shops.

“We could have waited to meet if you’re not up for it,” he says, studying me.

“I’m fine. It’s all good.”

“Your brother… is he still living off-grid?”

“Uh…” I look up as we approach the waterfront restaurant.

The Coal Harbour Lotus Club is iconic, but it’s the land it sits on that looks so pretty in our real estate portfolio.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had lots of fun owning some of the best restaurants in Vancouver with my family.

Fun that could end if I don’t deal with the blackmail video on my phone. “Yes, Miles is still a recluse.”

Zachary nods, knowing about my brother Miles’ tragedy.

It bothered me that Miles had changed so much, but I understood.

Still, it would be nice if I could rely on him.

He would have held the ship together before the incident that tore him apart.

However, once he finds out about my slip, he may step in.

He and I had equal power, but Mother was the third vote in the Alexander portfolio of companies, and she would vote for him any day.

Anyway, it’s not like I don’t have experience running empires.

I only ran the acquisitions department of the multi-billion-dollar corporation, owning one-third of the shares.

Shiny yachts cruise out of the harbor as cyclists and joggers pass by.

Tourists sit around at coffee shops in designer clothes with luxury handbags.

We walk up to the waterfront restaurant, and I open a glass door, my stomach churning.

A host escorts us to one of the best water-view seats in the house.

We order drinks, prawn appetizers, and steaks with garlic-roasted potatoes.

Zachary slices into a prime rib. “Perhaps it’s not a time to talk business, but I have news. I’ve spoken to Bastien Couture about a massive joint venture, a substantial opportunity for the Alexander companies. You know, it was always your father’s dream to collaborate with the prestigious brand.”

“I do.” I scrub my chin, my thoughts reeling.

The coveted Couture brand was the best in the world, and the Lotus Club had been looking for the perfect opportunity to break into the European market for years.

This was significant. But the news couldn’t come at a worse time, considering my recent slip.

“Bastien is very traditional, and we’ll need to keep everything pristine. That shouldn’t be a problem. All the Alexander companies have an impeccable reputation,” Zachary says, eyeing me as though he knows I’m hiding something. I take a sip of a stiff martini with olives and ice cubes knocking.

“They do,” I swallow, the blackmail video on my phone stabbing my brain. Something needs to be done about it as soon as possible.