Hard Rules

Once I’m on the highway, with my phone attached via Bluetooth, I dial Seth. “The woman’s name is Ashley Johnson,” he informs me. “She’s twenty-four—”

“And a med student,” I supply.

“Yes. How did you know that?”

“My mother hired her to keep an eye on my father.”

He whistles. “Every time I think your family can’t get more fucked up, they prove me wrong.”

“That’s what I told my mother, who assures me my father has blackmail material on every member of the board. She’s working on getting it for us but I’m not counting on her.”

“Like I said, I have dirt on everyone to push them out, should you so choose, with the exception of Mike. I’ll have those files to you today.”

“The security feed?”

“A few concerns I’m not ready to voice yet. I’ll have answers this afternoon.”

We’re about to hang up when my mother’s remodeling job comes to mind, followed by my own words yesterday. Blood divides as easily as it unites, especially when money and power are involved. “My mother’s cozying up to the mayor,” I say. “I need to know if he’s got any connections to Brandon Enterprises other than her, especially my brother.”

With the realization that my briefcase is at my apartment, I decide that the plan is to hole up there with my files I still haven’t finished reviewing and a pot of coffee. In other words, far away from the family drama distracting me from my focus on building BP profits by way of creating the strongest team of experts in the industry. Only that drama feels front and center as I arrive at the Four Seasons, hand off my car to be parked, and enter the hotel, my encounter with my father ever present in my mind. As is him being here to fuck a woman my mother hired to sleep with him. The many ways that is insanity can’t be counted, but of major concern is a woman who will sell herself for money, having intimate knowledge of our family, which she can then sell as well.

By the time I step off the elevator on my floor, I’ve vowed to shove all of this aside for a few hours of work, except my phone rings. It’s Jessica. My said “family drama” proves it will hunt me down with a damn hammer in its hand.

“Your father is in a mood,” she announces. “I mean the man is terrorizing the entire building. Not just our staff. He went off on Karen at the coffee bar for getting his order wrong. He is such an ass.”

If this were anyone else, I’d suggest it were cancer- or medication-related, but this isn’t my father’s first attack on everyone around him. Not by a long shot. “What do you need from me?” I ask, suspecting my father’s wrath has turned in my direction, most likely to punish me for this morning, when he’s the one who instigated it.

“He’s having a conniption over a deal memo he wants reviewed,” she says.

“Tell him to e-mail it to me,” I say, entering my apartment and shutting the door.

“He doesn’t have it on e-mail. He says he needs to know if he’s being bent over before he’s screwed, not after.”

“He said that to you?” I ask and quickly add, pressing fingers to the bridge of my nose. “Never mind. Of course he did.” I unbutton my jacket and settle my hands on my hips. “If I go there, it’s not going to end well. Bring it here.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” she says, ending the call before I can change my mind, clearly just wanting out of that office for a while.

Sighing, I walk to the coatrack, shrug out of my jacket and hang it next to the one that smells sweet like Emily, who’s still lingering in the back of my mind. A welcome distraction from my father’s bullshit or the complications that could arise from my brother handing an FDA inspector a bribe. I walk across the living room and stand at the window, watching rain splatter the glass, frowning at something I spy on the patio. Opening the door, I glance out in the storm and start laughing. Emily’s bra is hanging on one of the dangling lights. I laugh harder. Even when that woman isn’t here, she manages to break through the crap around me.

An impossible smile lingering on my lips, I leave the bra, shutting the door, and walking into the kitchen, I take a barstool with me, and set my briefcase down on the island. Next I get that pot of coffee started and power up my MacBook with my files ready to view beside it. Once I have my cup of coffee, I sit down and take a sip, the strong bite of cinnamon in my favorite blend exploding in my taste buds, and I wonder if Emily would once again grimace. I set the cup down and reach for my files, organizing my four top candidates for the pharmaceutical division. Two executives and two of the top scientists in the pharmaceutical industry—I’ve spoken to one of each. Recruiting them won’t be an issue, but in light of the FDA bribe, I have to think about human corruptibility and them becoming my brother’s targets. Building BP to win over the board is no longer the plan. They won’t be around to impress if the plan I hatched yesterday morning works.

I’ve just finished cup number one when the doorbell rings. I’m about to stand when the door opens and I hear Jessica call out, “I let myself in. I hope you’re decent.” She doesn’t wait to find out, because of course she knows I am. She rounds the corner in a one-piece black suit dress runsn her fingers through her spiky blond hair and stops on the other side of the island.

“The deal memo,” she says, setting an envelope down. “He wants you to call him within the hour.” She snorts. “Like bossing you around ever works. I really love that about you by the way.” She eyes the coffeepot. “Why yes, boss, I would like a cup of coffee.”