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"No." I push against his hands but his grasp doesn't lessen at all. "You didn't do that to him. Tell me you didn't have your brother arrested."
"Technically I wasn't the one who made the call to the police," he points out. "My assistant did it."
"Don't do that." I stomp my foot against the concrete floor in exasperation. "Don't divert. Why would you do something like that? We're supposed to be helping him."
"I have gone out of my way to help him." His hand flexes as he grips the handrail. "I've done more for him than anyone else ever has."
The words bite through me. Caleb knows that I carry a burden of guilt with me. I wasn't there for Asher when he needed me in college. I'd turned my back on him at a time when he felt desperately alone. I've never forgiven myself for it.
"You had him arrested, Caleb." I push my finger into his hard chest. "How the hell is that helping him?"
"He was lashing out." He grabs my hand and holds it tightly in his. "I had to step in before he hurt himself or someone else."
"This is unbelievable." I feel my pulse race as I yank my hand free. "I can't believe you'd do this."
"Believe it." He turns towards the door of the stairwell. "He's in jail and this time he's going to have to figure it out on his own."
Chapter 2
"Does Gabriel know?" I follow Caleb's large frame back into his apartment. "Gabriel will know what to do."
"Gabriel is in Italy." His hands run over the lapels of his dark grey suit jacket as he turns to look at me. "He doesn't need to know about this. It's been handled. That’s final."
I lower myself into one of the chairs in Caleb's living room. The apartment he lives in is extravagant, yet tastefully decorated. Caleb flaunts his wealth. He's never been ashamed of the fact that his parents built a clothing empire from the ground up. They had handed the keys to their fashion kingdom to their three sons when they divorced. Gabriel, Caleb's older brother, had taken over much of the day-to-day duties. His head is always in the game, which explains why he's in Italy. Right now, it is fashion week in Milan and one of the designers they brought on board last year is making big waves.
Asher, Caleb's younger brother, couldn't shoulder the responsibility that came with being thrown into the position of Director of Sales before he even graduated from college. He was still reeling from his parents' divorce when he was forced to take on a corporate role he wasn't ready for. The luxuries and attention that came with the position were too much and he'd fallen into a life that was filled with reckless abandon. He was rarely lucid and would spend days locked in his apartment with women he'd pick up in clubs and the drugs they brought with them. Gabriel had been able
to convince Asher to check himself into a rehab facility nine months ago. He'd come back refreshed, strong and determined to make both of his parents proud. Although Caleb and he didn't always agree on business dealings, they both have the same focus, which is building and expanding the brand their parents began.
"We have to tell Gabriel," I point out as I begin to tap out a text message to Gabriel Foster on my smartphone. "He'd want to know. He's so close to Asher."
I don't look up as I feel him approach me. I know the words have to sting him. Caleb's sole focus for much of his adult life has been the business. He'd watched his twenty-three-year old brother come apart at the seams and the only thing he seemed concerned about at the time was keeping it all away from the sharp eye of the media and the judgmental glances of the public. Keeping the Foster brand untarnished had been his main goal and it had splintered his relationship with his family whether he wants to admit it or not.
"Don't text Gabriel." He gestures towards my phone. "I need him in Milan. If he comes back here, he'll fuck up everything."
I look up into his face. I want to tell him that he's the one who fucked up everything. Having Asher arrested crosses a line that Gabriel won't tolerate. I know that. I've been witness to the shifting dynamics between the three brothers for years. I went to college with Asher and even though he was a year behind me, we spent hours together talking about his family and the unique, and often, volatile connections they all had. It made me feel better about the relationship I share with my own brother, Miles. I thought we had issues when we missed one another's birthdays or failed to connect around the holidays, but being friends with the Fosters has shown me that I have nothing to complain about. I know without question, that Miles would never have me arrested.
"Have you told your parents?" It's a question that I already know the answer to. Caleb and Asher never see eye-to-eye anymore and until a few years ago their parents were the go-to referees. Once they started threatening that they'd hire people from outside the family to run the organization, the brothers hid their battles behind closed doors for the most part. Or they had, until today, when the police were called in.
He scratches his index finger behind his ear. "I'm not telling them. Asher won't either. He knows that his job is gone if they find out he's in trouble."
"What happened?" I rest my smartphone on my lap. "Tell me what happened."
He moves to the left before lowering himself onto the edge of the stainless steel coffee table. He's sitting directly in front of me now. His knees brushing against my calf as he fidgets in place. "He was off when he came into the office this morning. He was late. He's never late."
"How late?" I ask not because it matters in the slightest. It's just habit for me. My logical mind needs to have every piece of available information in front of me in order for me to absorb it.
"He's always in before me." He slides his suit jacket off before tossing it onto the table. "I got in at nine and he wasn't there."
After he completed his therapy, Asher had jumped into his position working alongside his brothers with a ferocity that shocked everyone, including Caleb. He worked late and on weekends to keep the sales force motivated. He didn't trust himself to travel to the boutiques that were located outside Manhattan. He hired regional managers for that. I was impressed with his dedication. I was amazed by his desire to overcome his past so he could prove to his family that he was worthy of the trust they had placed in his potential.
"Rowan." Caleb taps my knee. "Just before noon I could hear him berating one of his assistants. Everyone in the office could hear it."
Asher isn't an aggressive person. I've seen him disappointed and even despondent at times and instead of acting on that, he'll retreat into himself. I've never been witness to who he transforms into when he's using heroine. I've never wanted to see that. It would steal away my memories of the boy who would push me on the swings when we were children or the guy who set me up with his best friend in high school.
I know the dark parts of him creep to the surface when he's pumping himself full of drugs. If he was berating his assistant, he wasn't himself. Asher is kind and soft spoken. His soul is quiet and giving.
"You had him arrested because he was yelling at someone?" I push my back into the chair. "You should have sent him home to cool off."
