BRYCE

All day, I’ve been slammed with the acquisition, but it’s probably a good thing because, otherwise, I’d be thinking about Tessa. I need to slow down, not be so desperate with her, especially now that I know why she was blowing me off.

Most men would run from a single mom; the baggage would be too much. Hell, if she were any other woman, I’d probably find it a great excuse to run away, too.

Not with Tessa. When I met her, I was intrigued. As I got to know her more, I became captivated. Now that I’ve spent time with her and Charlie, I feel … different.

I always envisioned myself with kids, but as the years went by and my life veered further and further away from finding a woman to grow old with, I started to silently give up the thoughts.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

I don’t have time for this shit.

When I got home last night, I pored over editorials, contracts, marketing campaign finalizations, and most importantly, the Seattle Gazette purchase. I passed out while reading a debrief on a lawsuit that’s pending, as we’re being sued for running a story in Chicago that wasn’t properly sourced. I woke at four a.m. and finished, so I could talk with our legal team this morning.

I love my job. I bitch about it, but I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t actually love this fucking company. At four a.m., that love is hard to find. Ten years ago, I would have woken up that early only to hike up a mountain to get a shot of the city at sunrise.

“Just the man I was looking for,” Missy says as she slithers into the conference room where I’m sitting, never having left from the last meeting.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just having a good day, is all.”

I look up at her with an evil glare. “Does this mean you’ll stop being such a malicious—” I stop myself from using the word I really want to use.

I gather my papers and stand. She walks up and lays a hand on my arm. I turn to her with a scowl.

Her fingers splay along my bicep as her lips part. “I could help you with all that pent-up anger. When’s the last time you were with a woman, Bryce?”

I clench my jaw. “That’s none of your business.”

“Your new assistant is nice, but I don’t get the impression you’re the Sexton she likes.” Missy’s tone is taunting. Her finger runs up and down my arm as she gets closer. “I, on the other hand, have always found you to be the sexiest Sexton.”

“Not a compliment.” I pull away from her and walk around the table.

The woman slept with my brother when they were teenagers and is married to my father, and now, she’s got her eye on me. I’m not foolish enough not to know that Missy Sexton uses her body to get what she wants.

“I also find you to be the most stubborn,” she grunts. “You know, you really are a fool, Bryce. You have no idea how close I am to getting what I want.”

My feet halt at the door. I slowly turn around. “Is that a threat?”

“If Austin keeps drag racing and you keep fucking your assistants, you’ll practically be handing the company over to me and your father.”

Her threat speaks volumes.

“What do you have up your sleeve, Missy?”

She loosens her grip. She runs a finger up my arm to my shoulder and skims the line of my jaw. Her breasts, which are pouring out of the V-neck of her dress, are pushed up against my side.

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” she whispers into my ear.

I raise my chin up and away from her. “Who have you gotten to?”

She laughs. “No one. Why? Is there someone who is willing to come forward to take down the almighty Bryce Sexton?”

I step away from her. “There’s no one.”

She raises a brow as she leans on the conference table with her hands on the mahogany, her chest heaving forward. “You don’t look so confident.”

Her blonde hair and pale skin make her look soft on the outside. Inside, she’s a coldhearted bitch.

“What do you want?” I step away from her. My voice is vicious yet controlled. “What will it take for you and Father to walk away? How much money do you need?”

“I want it all!” she shouts. She pushes off the table and stalks toward me. “I’m selling this fucking company whether you like it or not. I’m warning you for the last time, Bryce. Either you’re on board or I’m taking you down.”

There’s a manic expression in her eyes. For as composed as she might appear, her eyes give away more than what she’s saying. She’s punishing me. Punishing my family. Punishing someone. For what, I’m not sure.

“My father doesn’t really care about selling, does he? It’s all you.”

“Your father does what I tell him.”

Her words ring in my ears. She’s the master puppeteer, and he’s her marionette.

“What do you have on him?” I ask cautiously.

“That reminds me. I need you and your brother to join us for dinner this week. We haven’t had a good photo op in a while, and I need everyone to be seen as the happy little family. It’s good for business.”

Without another word, she lets out a huff and spins on her stilettos. I watch as she stalks out of the conference room and gently closes the door behind her.

My money is on the fact that everything she’s saying is a bluff, but I’m wise enough to keep her at arm’s length.

Could Missy really have something on my father? If so, why the hell would he have married her? And why do I have to waste another day pretending to be a family when all we’ve become are strictly business partners?

I shake my head. I’m losing my fucking mind. What I should be worried about is my job. Missy can try all she wants, but I’ve never done anything illegal. I could never be convicted of a crime, no matter how hard she tries.

Jalynn is not at her desk when I get there, so I walk into my office, slam the door, and look out the window. There’s the perfect view of Alcatraz. It’s fitting. A prison from my prison.

I fucking hate when I think like that. This place shouldn’t feel like a prison, yet the cuffs Missy and my father have around my fucking ankles make me feel like I can’t leave.

No sooner am I running my hands through my hair does Austin open my door and saunter in. He’s looking back toward the door, his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his face.

“Yes?” I don’t look up as I take my seat and tap on the keyboard to start up my computer.

Usually, I have to threaten him to come into my office. The fact that he’s here of his own accord means he wants something.

He’s still looking toward my door as he says, “I just emailed you the requests from Sergeant Miller on the print conditions of the interview.”

Austin secured an interview with a sergeant in the Marines that every media outlet in the country has been vying for. The man saved twelve men during a raid, only to have his entire body ravaged by a bomb. He’s missing a leg and an arm, and he has severe burns. No one has been able to get him in front of a camera … until now.

It’s the most impressive interview we’ve had in years. And it’s all because Austin has a personal connection from being in the Marines. A reminder to me of how he enrolled in the Marines right out of college instead of coming to work here.

Yes, I know the Marines are no fucking joke. I honor and value our servicemen and women. I just know my brother. He didn’t enroll for valor. He enrolled to run away from his responsibilities. And, when he almost died, trying to do so, I almost died myself from grief.

He has no idea how his actions impact me and this family. He doesn’t care about our feelings. He just does what he wants, not thinking about what could happen if things don’t work out.

I wouldn’t have a brother.

He survived an IED explosion, and now I fear I’ll lose him to a car crash.

Fuck, I’m losing my mind today.

“You came just to tell me that?” I ask, knowing he has an ulterior motive. I have a feeling it has to do with the girl who sits on the other side of the door. “Jalynn won’t be back for another hour. She’s scouting sources for a certain story on drag racing she’s working on,” I growl at him in frustration. It’s his fault she had to take on this side project.

“Why would I care where she is? She’s a pain in the ass, and she smells like peaches. It gives me a damn headache.”

I look up with a raised brow. He’s full of shit, and I don’t have time for it.

“I just had a heart-to-heart with Missy. You’re walking a thin line with her, as am I. The strategy is, play nice. I don’t care what you think of her or how angry you are with Dad; just don’t do anything to piss them off. Not until I have a handle on what they have on us.”

“On us?” he asks.

I adjust my tie as I twist in my seat and get back to work. I see the email he sent me and open it up. Austin runs the digital portion of the company and is going to produce a subsequent set of interviews that will only air on our website to draw web traffic. It’s a brilliant idea since the wave of information is now traveling on screens rather than paper.

Austin turns around to leave, and I find myself compelled to ask, “What would you do?”

He stops and turns back to me, unsure of the question I’m asking.

“If we stopped fighting Father and Missy for the company, what would you do with your life?”

I don’t know what I expect him to say. Maybe become a NASCAR driver or a movie investor, mainly action flicks. I could even see him saying he wanted to live in a cabin on top of a mountain and drink whiskey all day while listening to rock music.

“Nothing,” he says with a raised jaw. “There is absolutely nothing I’d rather do than work for the company our mother built.”

His answer is surprising.

“Do you like working here because you actually like what you do or because it was Mom’s?”

“Both.” He doesn’t skip a beat. “I work my ass off, getting the stories of good men and women told. Not the salacious propaganda we see every day. And I do whatever I can to stay away from publishing the gossip Missy shoves down my throat. I’m proud of my content, and I’m damn proud to be Marina Sexton’s son and prouder to pass on her legacy.”

His self-righteous attitude is off-putting. Yes, he’s doing a decent job and bringing integrity back to the digital division, but he acts like he’s doing the world a favor by being a siren for the news world.

“Eighteen months on the job, and you think you’re fucking Pulitzer,” I say.

“Fuck off,” Austin says and rightfully so.

“Maybe, if you were here right after graduation, Missy wouldn’t have been able to retain as much power as she has around here.”

“Don’t piss on me because you couldn’t control the reins without me here. How was I supposed to know they were going to pull this place apart while I was gone?”

“You would have if you hadn’t left.”

“I’m back now, so get over it.” His words are loud.

I’ve definitely pissed him off, and I feel like the biggest prick in the world for doing so. Sometimes, I even wonder where all my anger comes from and why I can’t control it.

I shake my head and then take a deep breath. “I’ll look over the documents you emailed and get back to you.”

There’s a quick shift in him. His jaw is clenched as he nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

He walks out of the room and closes the door behind him. I toss my glasses on the desk and pinch the bridge of my nose. I hate fighting with my brother. There’s just so much animosity between us that I have a difficult time separating the past from the present.

My phone vibrates on my desk. I put my glasses back on and lift it to see a text from Tessa. It’s a selfie. A picture of her in the T-shirt I gave her. I saw it in the window of a store on my way to a meeting yesterday. I had Brantley pull over, so I could get a better look and purchased it on the spot.

Tessa looks beautiful in the picture. Her long brown hair is down and over her shoulders, covering some of the words. Her eyes are looking straight into the camera.

All the anger and annoyance I was feeling moments ago lightens a little from just looking at her face. I don’t know if her wearing my shirt means she thinks of us as a couple, but I won’t push it. For now, I’m going to enjoy looking at my girl because I’m sure, in moments, it will all get blown to hell.

I mean, doesn’t everything?