Chapter 2
Sebastian
“Fifty more and then a cool-down run.” Brock sounds a little too smug as he says that, but at least he’s doing my workout with me. If he were just standing over me and barking out orders, it would fucking piss me off. But he doesn’t have a rock-solid trainer’s body from sitting on the sidelines. I pay him for a training session, but he uses it to get in his own workout as well. And if I want to have his physique, I’ll gladly do as many burpees as he does.
“Yeah.” I don’t like to chat when I’m working out. He knows that, so he doesn’t expect verbose answers. But Brock’s a talker and doesn’t ever leave much silence between us.
“Did I tell you I’m going to some fancy-ass party after the symphony tomorrow night?”
I snort at the idea of Brock, with his 250 pounds of solid muscle and shaved head that looks like it’s right out of boot camp, at a symphony. “No.”
“Yeah, can you believe it? One of my clients was freaking out about not having a date, so I offered to go with him.”
“Good man.”
He shrugs with a devilish grin. “Not really. I’m hoping he puts out at the end of the night.”
I just shake my head. What can I say to that?
“Thirty,” he huffs out between hops to the ground and back up. “Twenty more. Let’s do this.”
~**~
Brock’s idea of a cool-down is seven miles uphill on the treadmill. My legs feel like Jell-O by the time he calls it and lets me go for the day. I wanted to be back in the office by noon, but it’s already 12:15 when I finally head to the shower. Because I have a meeting at one, I quickly text my secretary and ask her to order lunch for me. I could pick it up on the way, but at this hour, the line will be a nightmare and just put me in a bad mood.
And it’s gonna be a long day.
I’ll be in back-to-back meetings and conference calls for the rest of the day and probably won’t get another chance to eat until seven or eight tonight. The walk back to my building doesn’t take long. The gym is just a few blocks away, so I never ride my bike to a session with Brock. It’s safer in the secure parking garage where I know no one will mess with it.
Yes, my attachment to my Ducati Desmosedici is a little unhealthy, but when I had to move back to Tennessee to help with my dad’s company after his accident, I didn’t bring much with me. Just my bike and a few changes of clothes. It was my way of convincing myself that the move was only temporary.
Of course, that’s a total lie. Even while Jocelyn explained to me that Mom and Dad were both killed in a helicopter accident, I knew I’d be home for good. I don’t want to be, but now that the two people who drove me away are gone, the small town of Murfreesboro, TN feels like home again.
Of course, being home without my parents around took a lot longer to get used to. I still cringe when I hear doors close too loudly or glass breaking, going back to the days when Mom would drink way too much and start throwing priceless heirlooms at Dad or the staff…or me, if I made the mistake of showing my face. I didn’t make that mistake often after having two baby teeth knocked out by a sterling silver candlestick.
Even though I spent many nights wishing they were dead, I never expected to lose them in such an extreme way. They weren’t exactly outdoor adventurers. In fact, they avoided the outdoors unless a pool or a golf course was involved. But despite hating to do anything out of their comfort zones, they were all about keeping up appearances. And while on vacation in Hawaii with some of their fake friends, they were invited to take a helicopter ride above a volcano.
Mom was afraid of heights, so I don’t know how she managed it, but it must’ve been hard for her to get on that chopper. Even though I hated them as people, they were still my parents and it sucks to imagine what their final moments must have been like. My only consolation is knowing they passed quickly. There were probably a few moments of fear, but they didn’t suffer long.
According to the official record, all five passengers died instantly upon impact.
That was eight months ago, and I’m still trying to wrap my mind around what I’m supposed to do at the company I never wanted to be a part of. My father started this company when he was fifteen and sold lightbulbs door to door. He came from humble beginnings, so I never understood how he could stray so far from his roots.
But he did.
And I never wanted to be like him.
When I refused to accept my place in the company and left the state instead, he should have written me off. I didn’t waste time swearing off everything to do with my family and the business. But Dad held out hope I’d come to my senses. He never took me out of his will, and he never removed my name from the board of directors. I don’t know why he kept me in such a prominent role when he had no idea whether he’d ever see me again after I left at nineteen.
But he must have had his reasons.
So here I am, pretending like I know what the fuck I’m doing, and trying to be the face of a multimillion-dollar corporation. Fortunately, Dad had a lot of smart people in place, and they’ve all been helpful in getting me settled. I tried to pass on the responsibilities to some of the more experienced and much more interested vice presidents. But so far, they’ve refused to let me walk away.
Nobody expects me to really make decisions on behalf of the company, but they want me to stick around. Apparently, they see value in keeping the family name at the helm. Edward James built this company forty-five years ago, and even though I’m adding zero value at the moment, the PR team has been working around the clock to turn Sebastian James into the new spokesperson for James Lighting Company.
This isn’t exactly the head shop I envisioned owning when I was in high school or the tattoo shop I planned to buy after ditching out of college, but it keeps me busy. Living off my trust fund was fun for a while, but it got boring as hell real quick. All my friends had to work for a living, and the women who were available during the day were either bored housewives or sluts looking for a sugar daddy.
Again, fun at first, but not a sustainable way of life.
I invested in a few start-ups, but I wasn’t actively involved in any of them. And then there are the various underground establishments I own with friends and associates. Those are more interesting than the techy stuff, but I can’t get too close to them with the level of scrutiny I’m always under. The risks to me and the people I work with are just too great.
But I’ve been around the lighting business my whole life. And these people really are my family. Some of the secretaries were more of a mom and playmate to me than either of my parents ever were.
Most of the employees probably think of me as just a punk kid trying to fill daddy’s shoes, and maybe they aren’t too far off. But I’m not here by my choice. I’d rather be just about anywhere in the world than sitting in board meetings and meeting with media. But it’s the right thing to do for them, whether they realize it or not. Who knows, maybe I can add some kind of value to the successful-but-boring shit my dad had been selling since he was a kid.
A cute chick in yoga pants and a trucker’s hat is balancing a tray full of to-go coffee and a paper bag in her hands as we both approach the front door of my building. She glances at me gratefully when I hold the door open and usher her in.
“Thank you,” she mouths to me and then strides with purpose toward the elevators. I usually take the stairs, but I’m a sucker for a ponytail sticking out from the back of a hat, so I follow silently behind her. “It was the most humiliating moment of my life.”
I glance at her, surprised by her tone and the fact that she’s speaking to me at all. It takes me a moment to realize she’s speaking into her Bluetooth headset and not directly at me. I stand beside her as we wait for the elevator to arrive. When the doors open to an empty car, we both step inside.
“I had to leave all my groceries on the counter because my damn card was declined. I knew it was a mistake because I’d just deposited over $300, so I called the bank and they said it was a gym charge. Of course, that’s doesn’t make sense since I canceled my gym membership last week. So, I call the gym to find out why they charged me…and get this.” She adjusts the cup holder in her hand and shifts her weight so she’s leaning against the back of the car, probably trying to find some privacy in this cramped space. “The gym said they wouldn’t refund the $300 because that’s the fee for canceling my contract early. I had to cancel my membership because I can’t afford to fucking pay it every month, and yet they think I can afford a $300 cancellation fee. So now I’m working from morning till night just to buy some damn tampons, and I’m going to have a $200 late fee for my rent because that check will probably bounce today, and I won’t be able to pay it until next week.”
The door to my floor opens, and I step out, feeling sorry for the girl and her situation. I’m even more surprised when she steps out behind me.
“I’ve got a delivery to make. I’ll talk to you tonight.”
The girl is hot on my heels as I approach Rena’s desk for my messages. My assistant has been with the company since I was in high school and is one of the reasons I agreed to come back. I didn’t want her or any of the other people I care about to lose their jobs. When the woman from the elevator steps up behind me, I move out of the way and allow her to approach the desk first.
“Hello, I am with Meals2Me. I have a delivery for Rena Maxwell.”
Rena smiles widely in that motherly way I’ve come to love. “That’s me.” She reaches for the paper bag then proceeds to hand it over to me. “Here’s your lunch, Mr. James. I’ll let you know when your call is about to begin.”
“Thanks, Rena.” I turn to the delivery woman, immediately focusing on those cheeks that currently display her embarrassment. “And thank you.” I wink then head to my office, curious about her story and how she ended up in such a tight position.