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James
Water dripped down my nose as I bowed my head in silence. The chilly spring air combined with the rain only made this day more brutal than necessary. I stared at the casket in front of me and wished my brother were standing beside me instead of laying in a wooden box. It wasn’t right for a multitude of reasons. Not just because his life was cut short, but because that now left me in his shoes—taking over the family business.
Even standing in my expensive suit and stiff, wool coat, I felt caged in. I never liked getting dressed up. Getting fitted by a tailor and flashing a daring smile for all the public to see was all my brother. I preferred a quiet life, working with my hands and getting dirty. And now the suffocating stench of wealth was seeping into my pores, making me want to run from what I was about to face. There was no escaping it, though; only in death, as my brother proved.
My mother stood beside me, dressed in black with a veil pulled down over her face. Her white handkerchief was pressed to her nose as she tried to compose herself. But even the great Rebecca Langston wasn’t immune to emotion when it involved the death of her eldest son. My father stood stoically beside her, holding an umbrella over both of them. He didn’t dare show a hint of sadness. He was ruthless as ever, his only concern being his public appearance. And he never showed weakness.
The priest did his thing, talking about God and spreading dirt over the grave. I really wasn’t paying attention, nor was I Catholic, but this was more about appearance than showing respect for my brother. The cemetery was filled with Dad’s business associates and the few friends Michael called his own. But as I glanced over at them, noticing how they checked their watches, I wondered if anyone was really friends with Michael, or if they were just interested in his connections.
The service ended and I walked back with my parents to the limousine that sat idling for us. God forbid a vehicle ever be cold when we got inside. I slid in after my parents, staring out the window as we pulled away from the solemn place. I ran my hand over my face, dreading the rest of the day. There would be a reception back at my parents’ house that would no doubt be filled with all the fake people who would give their condolences, but approach my father in his study with some business proposition.
As the first son, my brother was set to take over for my father in our family business. Horace Langston wanted one of his sons ready to take the reins if needed. My brother was all ready to step into that role. He was born for it. He had the charisma, intelligence, and steadfast business sense to take our company to new heights. I was the spare son, and I was perfectly fine with that. I never wanted the company. I never craved the spotlight or the respect that came with the position of CEO. Now, I would never escape it. I knew it was coming. My father had planned it out before the ink dried on my brother’s death certificate.
We pulled into the driveway just as the rain stopped. The chauffeur came around and opened the door for us, my mother stepping out first with all the dignity of the first lady. My father was next, taking her arm as he led her to the house. I followed dutifully, but stopped at the large picture of my brother sitting on an easel in the extremely elegant foyer. The light from the chandelier twinkled over his photo, making him appear almost regal. My mother had chosen well, depicting him as this handsome playboy wearing a cream sweater as his hair flopped slightly over his forehead. I liked to think of him as John Kennedy Jr.—very good looking, but doomed to live a short life.
As I stood there staring at him, I couldn’t help but remember a time when we were much younger and we behaved as brothers should. But the years warped our relationship, tearing us apart until we were practically strangers. While he had the drive to succeed in my father’s business, I only wished to live a quiet life, far from the responsibilities my father bestowed on us. And it was nearly in my grasp until a few days ago.
“James,” my father barked, causing me to grit my teeth. I never once knew him to speak to me in a kind voice. Everything about him was abrasive and set me on edge.
Knowing I had to acknowledge him at some point, I turned and took off my wool coat, handing it to my father’s butler, Thomas. Composing myself, I followed the sound of his voice to his study where he already had a cigar lit as he looked through some documents.
“Yes?”
“John Wallace will be here soon. I need you to look after him for me.”
I gritted my teeth, knowing what was coming. “Sure.”
His eyes met mine in a hostile way that would have scared any board member, but I was used to him. “Notsure. Before Michael’s death, Wallace and I were on the verge of merging our companies. We would be the largest corporation on the east coast!” he said, slapping his hand down on his desk.
“You can still have that.”
“You know the stipulations of merging our companies.”
I did, and my brother had readily agreed. It was a gentleman’s game, one in which the merging of companies was sealed with a marriage. It didn’t make sense. Those old fashioned values, the days where a handshake was as good as your word were long over. Any deal could be made now under the right conditions without having to sacrifice your happiness.
“I’m not marrying his daughter.”
“Kimberley is a very nice woman.”
I rolled my eyes at his description. The last time I had seen her, she was meek and boring. Not to mention, her looks left a lot to be desired. Her dirty blonde hair was always a frizzy mess, and the freckles sprinkled over her nose made me think of Orphan Annie. I wasn’t the type of man to judge a woman solely on looks, but I did think there had to be an element of attraction. But above all that, I wanted to like being in the company of my wife. An arranged marriage wasn’t at all a guarantee of happiness.
“She may be nice, but I will not be forced into marriage. I’m not Michael.”
He scoffed at that, his disappointment in me obvious. “I’m well aware that you are not your brother. You prove it to me every day you defy me.”
“And you thought the day of his funeral was the perfect time to bring this up? You can’t even let us mourn him before you shove me off on his fiancé?”
“Business never sleeps. If we don’t move on this now, he’ll make a deal with the Connelly Group. That family is ruthless. If he makes a deal with them, we’ll never expand the way we need to. Is that what you want, for our company to limp along?”
I found it funny that he thought the Connellys were ruthless, when he was planning my marriage on the day of my brother’s funeral. My father was one of the most hated businessmen in the city. People despised working with him because of how unforgiving he could be in a business deal. For that reason alone, I wanted nothing to do with the company.
“I will not marry her,” I said forcefully, my fists clenching hard as I stared him down.
He stood from his desk, buttoning his suit jacket as he walked around to confront me. “It’s a requirement for you to take your place as CEO.”
I huffed out a laugh at that. “We both know I won’t be CEO. You will run the company until you’re dead.”
“But the board needs a fresh face, which is why I was voted out in place of your brother. But make no mistake, the company is run by me.”
