Aidan

 

 

“Mornin’, man!” Dean grins as I step out of the elevator onto the highest floor of Price Corp, the tops of other skyscrapers dancing below the windows, “Sorry I couldn’t make it to the wedding. I was so hungover.”

I just shrug, taking a long sip of the coffee I’d gotten in the lobby of the building.

“Did it go well?” The green eyed man steps closer, sending a cautious gaze up and down the empty hall, “Did it go… real well?” He wiggles his eyebrows provocatively as I groan.

“It went fine. Nothing too interesting happened.”

I wasn’t about to tell him that I ended up putting a wasted, distraught Mikayla into an Uber to get her back to her home safe. He’d never let me hear the end of it.

“Grant’s not in yet.” Dean sighs, bored by my insipid tales, sliding onto the edge of Poppy’s secretary desk in the main hall, though from my understanding she didn’t frequently spend much more time as the floor receptionist anymore. Behind us, Grant’s huge office rests silently on the other end of the corridor, our own offices lining the hall.

“He doesn’t seem like the type to be late, at least not with Reagan around.” I muse with a smirk, peering towards the closed glass door. Dean just shrugs, glad to be able to relax for the moment. The whole week since we’d started here, strict office manager Reagan had been barking orders like a drill sergeant. I was anxious to get back to work though, I needed something productive to do. All too soon for my southern friend, his peaceful moment ends as the elevator doors chime and slowly roll open. Dean leaps to his feet like a well trained soldier at attention.

“Good morning, sir…” Dean begins hastily as Grant steps out of the elevator, his blue eyes stormy with a rage that instantly silences both Dean and myself.

This was not going to be good.

“You two. My office.” The billionaire growls as Dean and I exchange a worried look and follow quickly after him. His feet stomp on the tile with a power that I worry will make the entire building shake. He was pissed about something, and that was putting it lightly.

Shit.

Did this have something to do with Mikayla? Or with Dean being drunk as all hell at the rehearsal dinner?

If we got booted from this company, I would be starting my own business way sooner than I planned. I’d barely gathered any investors yet.

“Shut the door.” Grant snaps despite the fact that the entire floor is empty except for us three.

Dean quickly obeys Grant’s angry commands, leaning against the smooth wood as though he were bracing himself for an explosion.

“Reagan and Eli are on their honeymoon and I can’t bother them with this, but we’ve got a huge, huge problem here, gentlemen.” Grant finally sinks down into his chair after practically pacing a worn track around his metal desk, his hands clasping in front of his face as he struggles to remain calm. I can see fury rising with the red tint over his neck.

“Problem?” I echo as Grant’s chin jerks up and his eyes narrow on my own in a way that makes my veins run cold with frost.

Without a single word, he flicks on his computer monitor, turning it towards me. At first I think the computer just hasn’t turned on yet, but then I see the faint outline of a crimson lock.

“…What is that?” Dean asks before I can, leaning forward to inspect the image. He jiggles the mouse, making dollar signs flash across the screen, “…the hell?”

Grant’s fingers curl, knuckles going white, “Ransomware. A virus. Someone’s hacked our systems. They’ve taken over everything. They’ve probably already wiped out clients’ information, our plans for expansion, and our financial system.”

Dean whistles and slowly sinks down into a chair across from our boss.

“What can we do?” I whisper, as Grant looks at me once again, his jaw clenching roughly, “Get to the bottom of who this bastard is before we lose everything. We’re going to lose a good amount of business over this bullshit. We’re going to have try and reclaim our position as a trusted business in the community-”

When the elevator chimes again, Grant cuts himself off and buries his face in his hands, inhaling deeply in a vain attempt at collecting himself.

“I assume no one else knows the extent of what’s happening?” I ask softly. The disheveled, worried look on the man’s face all but confirms that for me.

After a moment’s hesitation, Grant nods, then gazes between Dean and myself.

“No one but the three of us in this room. It’s going to stay that way until we make our public announcement that we localized the issue and dealt with it. Got it?”

Dean and I both nod as the door to Grant’s office suddenly bursts open with an impossibly sunny energy.

Poppy dances in, greeting us all with a cheery smile while Mikayla lingers behind her.

“Hey, guys.” Miki murmurs, offering a tiny wave to Dean but ignoring me completely. She’s probably humiliated about getting shitfaced at the wedding. Can’t blame her there.

“Morning, everyone! I brought Miki to get her out of the house so she’s going to be helping out today. This is Dean Scott and Aidan Cole from the rehearsal dinner. They’re brand new to the company.” Poppy beams, sliding a box of donuts on Grant’s desk as she kisses the top of his head.

He smiles at her though it doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

If I can see the falsity of his positive attitude, then definitely so can his wife. It’s only a matter of time before he has to burden his heavily pregnant bride with the possibility of losing everything that they have. If Price Corp goes under, then all of their stability is gone. Their home, their mass amounts of wealth, all of it. Grant’s reputation, and probably that of Dean and myself thanks to our executive positions, will be tarnished forever. 

Not if I can help it.

“Alright, you two. You have your assignments.” Grant finally says with a clear of his throat and another strained smile at Poppy, “That’ll be all.”

As we nod and collect our files to leave, Grant leans forward one final time to press his large palms on the surface of his desk.

“Aidan.” He says simply, a small smile curving his concerned lips, “I may not know you well yet, and Eli isn’t here to solve this for me, but I am positive that his little brother is more than up to the task.”

“I am.” I reply simply, meeting Miki’s eyes as I leave the room. Within seconds she’s chasing after me, curiosity brimming on her face.

“Wait!” She gasps, “You’re Eli’s brother? Eli Nelson? Reagan’s husband, Eli?”

“Half-brother.” I correct shortly, hair on the back of my neck prickling. This wasn’t a conversation I enjoyed having. Technically I was related to Eli by blood, but to him I was even less than a half-brother. I wasn’t anything at all. He’d made that clear enough. If I hadn’t graduated top of my class, and had my mother not begged him, Eli never would have allowed me to take a position at the company he worked for.

“But… but you don’t have the accent or the last name. How long did you live in Australia for?”

“Eli’s father cheated on Eli’s mother while he was in the states for business. Then there was me.”

Her footsteps falter behind me as she goes still, no longer chasing me down.

I pause, glancing back at her, swallowing the thick lump in my throat.

“I’m going to show that man…” I say quietly, “I’m going to show him that I don’t need him to be successful. I don’t need his money to make something of myself. Grant has a problem and I’m going to fix it, I’m going to prove to him and myself that I deserve to be here. That I deserve success.”

Miki nods seriously, her arms hanging limp at her side, “I believe you. I want to help.”

 

~~

 

“Where are we going again?” Miki asks as we slide into my jet black Tesla, perching comfortably atop the leather seat as she clips the seatbelt in place. It was lucky that the weather was supposed to be inclement this afternoon, or I would have ridden my motorcycle into work. I couldn’t imagine Mikayla on one of those.

“My house. I’ve got some files and research there that could help with Grant’s problem.”

“What kind of problem is it?” She asks curiously, leaning her forehead against the cool glass of the window and watching the company parking lot dissolve away as we drive.

I shrug nonchalantly, sliding sunglasses over my nose so that she can’t see my lying eyes, “Just some trouble with the client database. Shouldn’t be too difficult to fix.”

She nods, thankfully uninterested in technical jargon.

I can’t help but to keep one eye on her as we drive. The faint scent of sweet body spray lingers in the air, soft locks of her hair blown from her face by the AC. I’m magnetized towards her, like she’s a foreign film that I can’t stop watching - I don’t understand a second of her but I can’t look away.

She’s so damn beautiful, and I can barely keep my wits about me with her so close.

We don’t speak much though she hums along with the radio, her legs curled under her on the seat.

As we pull off the highway onto a small exit road, the silence has become heavy and uncomfortable over our heads despite the softly playing music on a radio station that Miki has chosen. While I’ve never had a problem speaking in front of a wide array of people or approaching someone, I can’t seem to find anything to talk to this girl about.

“Do you remember anything from the wedding?” I finally ask, sparing her a single glance before returning my eyes firmly to the road.

She nods, her hands folded primly in her lap as she stares out the window.

“Everything.” She says simply.

“What are you going to do?”

The seat squeaks under her as she shifts slightly, turning to face me. The sun dapples her face, highlighting cinnamon freckles that I’d never noticed before.

“Graduate.”

Apparently she was only speaking in single words today. Or maybe she just really didn’t want to be here with me.

I couldn’t figure her out. One second she was warm, the next she was ice cold.

What was going on in that pretty head of hers? Why couldn’t I read her at all?

“And after that?”

She shrugs, her eyes squinting against the rays of sunlight that steak through the car as we roll quickly through along the quiet, tree lined road towards my home.

“So do you live alone?” She asks, finally speaking in whole sentences.

“Not quite.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She laughs, a beautiful sound, and I can’t help but to turn and grin at her. When I do, the giggle fades from her lips and she twists back forward once again.

“I live with my mom.”

“Cute.”

I don’t look at her but I can hear the smirk in her tone. Fingers drumming on the steering wheel to the slow beat of the song playing, Miki changes the station, just to spite me I think.

“She’s sick.” I finally add, glancing towards her, “Tumor. Inoperable.”

I couldn’t even tell myself why I’d suddenly said that aloud. I hadn’t told anyone about her illness. Not even Dean, who’d been with me when I got the call a few weeks ago. When he asked why I’d suddenly gone pale, I told him I wasn’t feeling well and spent an hour sitting on the edge of his bathtub, my face in my hands.

Miki goes suddenly stiff then whirls to face me with a quickness that almost makes me swerve off the road. Her fingers brush my elbow softly and it sends electric sparks skittering across my flesh.

“I am so sorry.” She murmurs sincerely, “That’s awful.”

She clicks the station back to the one playing the song I’d liked, but it’s just ended. Another takes its place, some cowboy singing a sweet song about fireside cooked beans. It takes me a whole thirty seconds to realize it’s a commercial and not a real, emotional ballad.

“It’s been rough.” I shrug, as though I wouldn’t do anything I possibly could to change the fate of my mother.

“I lost my parents so I know how it feels. I really am sorry. I know it’s no consolation, but at least you have time to say goodbye.”

I nod quietly, not pressing her on the issue of her own parents. I’d heard stories here and there through the office grapevine.

“Does your dad know?” She asks softly.

“He’s not in the picture.”

I barely considered that man to be a father. He was nothing to me, he was less than that. He was a cold, calculating man who couldn’t care less about my mom.

 “Damn.” She exhales, her fingers still on my elbow with no seeming intent to move them. Her lips press together, eyes going dark, and I can all but see the wheels churning in her head as she seeks those perfect words to say, the ones that will make all this better. She knows just as well as I do that those don’t exist. There is nothing, not even hope, that is a quick fix to grief.

In the end, she settles for the gentle touch on my arm, and that’s more than enough.

The song on the radio ends and Miki glances at me again. I can tell she wants to talk about it more, but her eyes are heavy with uncertainty. She doesn’t want to push the conversation too far.

“How is she holding up with all this?” The girl finally inquires as gently as possible.

“She’s miserable. But not because of the illness. Because she wants me to get married.” I laugh, startling myself with the voracity of the laughter that wells up in my chest. The chuckling waves are so strong it almost makes my eyes tear. I wasn’t sure how to explain the swing in my emotion. Maybe it was just the relief of finally talking about it out loud.

Miki gives a tiny laugh in response, her fingers sliding away from my elbow to brush her bangs off her forehead.

“She thinks I work too hard. Every time I come home now all I hear is ‘who’s going to take care of you when I’m gone? Can’t you bring home a nice girl for me to meet’?” I imitate the high pitch of my mother’s voice, Miki giggling and shaking her head.

“She sounds like a sweet woman.”

“She is. She worries too much.”

“Is there a reason you don’t date?”

“I don’t have time.” I sigh, “I’ve got too many plans to get sidetracked. I’m just trying to learn as much as I can from Price Corp so I can start my own business. A relationship, love, it would all just be a distraction from what I’m trying to achieve.”

“You remind me of my best friend. She’s starting a business too.” Miki beams, “Love is overrated, anyways, if it even exists.” She adds with a doubtful laugh.

Her hair whips around her face, her hand extending out the window to feel the warm breeze surging past.

“I guess we have that belief in common.” I muse.

When I look at Miki again, that soft smile is back on her lips and this time, she doesn’t look away.

 

~~

 

“It’s beautiful.” Miki breathes as we park in the driveway of my home, though I know Grant’s house is at least double the size of mine.

I’d built my mother this home with money that I made all on my own working up various chains of lucrative businesses through my college days. My father hadn’t offered a single cent and I liked to keep it that way.

That was why I need to make my own business, my own mark on the world.

Her hands in her jeans’ pockets Miki drifts up and down the cement, eyes sweeping over the huge green lawn and the orchards surrounding it. She finally walks over to a nearby pond surrounded by azaleas and marigolds and kneels down to softly sniff the fragrance. In the warm glow of afternoon, her brown hair is streaked soft gold.

“You can pick some if you want.” I offer, but she just shakes her head and returns back to where I lean against the outside of my black Tesla.

Still standing on the freshly repaved drive, she observes the house with thoughtful eyes. Her gaze sweeps over the white columns lining the long patio and the tall windows, propped half open as the shades inside billow in the breeze.

I gesture to the door, pushing myself up off the side of the car. Instinctively, my fingers brush along the small of her back as I guide her forward. Under my touch, I feel the faintest shiver travel up the length her spine though her face could be set in stone. She was definitely the poker face type. Not a shred of emotion passed through her eyes.

Before we can approach the entryway, the door swings open on its own accord, a round woman with candy apple red cheeks practically vibrating with glee before us.

 “Aidan!” She calls, bouncing forward across the drive on bare feet that quickly turned black from the pavement. She wraps an arm around me as I smile grimly at the pretty brunette standing startled at my side.

“Who has my darling boy brought home to me?” She gushes, one hand on her cheek as she gazes at Miki, “Oh my, you’re gorgeous!”

“Mikayla, this is my mother, Ruth Cole.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Cole.” Miki beams, whole face lighting up with a smile that I’m not sure is real. She sticks out her hand, shaking with the woman though my mother pulls her into a huge hug.

“Please!” My mother giggles, “Call me Ruth. So how do you and my son know one another?”

Miki doesn’t even look at me, that same smile on her face growing wider as an unexpected blush rises on her cheeks.

 “Oh, he didn’t tell you!” She whispers with faux surprise, my heart instantly dropping like a lead weight to my feet.

…What was she plotting?

The pretty girl takes my mom’s hands in her own, giving them a gentle squeeze, “I’m his fiancée!”