Chapter 5
Ian
I stared at the black phone on the top of my desk. I couldn't tell if I was dreading the call because I didn't want to meet with the Murphy’s after the meeting I’d already had with lawyers earlier that morning, or if I was dreading the call because of Kate…because of what I was pretty damn sure of already.
I forced myself to pick up the phone. I had to do my job, and right now my job was to call Ben Murphy back and handle the company’s business.
“Hello?” the woman's voice sounded on the other end of the phone. It was a higher-pitched voice. Very sweet in tone.
“Yes, Marcy?” I asked, even though I knew it was her. I could recognize her voice anywhere. She was a perfectly plump older woman with a mousy voice that matched her face. Her lips were always turned up in a smile, and she wore glasses down at the bottom of her nose.
“Yes?” she said, bringing me back to the moment.
I sighed. I knew I had to say something now. There was no turning back.
“This is Mr. Cross of MTS and I’m returning a phone call made by Benjamin Murphy. I’m assuming it's in regards to a late-evening meeting which was scheduled earlier today.”
“Yes, Mr. Cross!” the woman squeaked. “Mr. Murphy said you might call back. I was instructed to tell you that due to a family emergency, the Murphy’s had to cancel the meeting.”
“I see,” I said, my breath catching in my throat. Maybe it was true. Maybe Kate really was related to them. “Well, please let him know I called, and that I hope all is well.”
I was proud of myself for my manners when I felt like I had none.
“I’ll tell him you wish his sister a speedy recovery!” she said brightly, and then it all came together — without a shadow of doubt.
Michael was Kate and Claire’s father. Ben was their brother.
I was stunned, although I wasn’t sure why. I’d felt uneasy about it all afternoon. I’d even suspected as much as soon as I’d heard Kate’s last name, having just seen Michael Murphy pounding his girth through the hospital hallways.
But surprise was the only word to explain what I felt. I couldn't believe what was happening. My heart raced and my head pounded. My palms were sweating.
There were over eight million people in New York. I had to find one of Michael Murphy's spawn and develop feelings for her.
My dad had always hated the Murphy’s. I’d inherited that hatred, especially once I gained control of the company.
Ben was tolerable, but that was about all I could say in his defense. I always suspected that he was trying to play me, that like his father, there was something sneaky and slimy underneath his sleeve and he was trying to deceive me in the name of business.
When we hung up the phone, my gut felt heavy with dread and even more unease than before.
“Dammit,” I cursed under my breath. I didn’t know what to do.
On one hand, I was glad I didn’t have to sit through another meeting, but on the other, the confirmation of Kate being a Murphy made me wish for a meeting. I sighed and rested my head in my palm, moving my gaze to look out the window at the dreary day.
Could I possibly date Kate now that I knew she was Murphy’s daughter? Just the thought of the name Murphy, the fact that it was right there on the tip of my tongue, left a terrible, soured taste in my mouth.
I was torn. I really did like her. There was something about her that made me feel like me again, like there was an Ian Cross – the man, rather than just Ian Cross – CEO and son of the late-great-pain-in-the-ass, John Cross.
But would I ever be able to just be Ian, the man? Would I ever be able to get past the feud between our families? And what about Ben and Michael? Even if I could somehow bury that hatchet, would her brother or her dad be able to do the same?
Could everyone be fine with it, fine with us? Or was our business rivalry too much to overcome?
I sighed, closed my laptop, and pushed myself away from my desk, letting the wheels on the bottom of the chair do all the work for me. I rubbed my eyes, which felt heavy all of a sudden.
When I stood up, my legs felt wobbly, and I wondered how I could feel so physically drained. I’d barely worked today. I wasn’t sure what prompted the action, or what had come over me, but I suddenly found my body moving out of my office and toward Jerome’s.
I figured I’d throw him a bone. Hell, I’d just wanted to jerk his chain a little bit in the first place. I had every intention signing the papers he needed me to sign. He’d done well as far as the job aspect went. Besides, I figured I needed one last task before I could finally take my ass home and dissolve myself in a nice stiff drink.
I knocked on his open door, and stared in.
“What do you need?” he asked warily as he looked up from his computer screen. I almost laughed. Sometimes it seemed like everyone treated me like some sort of goddamned phantom in the night. Like it just had to be bad news if I was around.
It was dark in his office, with the large wall-to-wall blinds completely closed. All that lit the room was the single light from his computer screen. It danced over his face in a way that made him look almost demonic.
“I didn’t get a chance to sign those.” I gestured to the papers with a sly grin, barely even able to see the files at all. It was probably the only grin that I could have possibly mustered in that moment, and it was because I was being a dick to Jerome.
His brows contorted, and I couldn’t help but notice how disheveled he looked. His tie was undone, not just loosened; his hair — drenched in pomade and grease — was a complete mess. I figured it was likely from combing his hands through it too many times, as he tended to do when he was on edge.
“You could have just asked for a digital version instead of sending Janice with an empty signature slot,” he said, visibly frustrated.
“I could have, but I didn’t.” I was still bitter about a lot when it came to Jerome, and I knew the same applied to him. “Go ahead and send them back and I’ll be sure to look over them.” I turned to leave, but thought I’d do one last kindness. “By the way,” I said, cocking my head over my shoulder, “the Murphy’s cancelled the meeting for later, so there’s no point in staying late.”
With that, I left.
It was time to have a damn drink and get to bed.