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"Stepping stone to my larger plan? Yes," I say dryly.
"Hmm." He grabs the bottle from me, drains in.
"The fuck does that mean?"
"Nothing. Why should it mean something?"
I frown. "No, of course not, but if you have something to say—"
He caps the bottle, then wipes his hand over his face. When he lowers his arm, his eyes gleam. "It would be lost on you. Ergo, you need to learn your lessons yourself."
"Thanks. And to think, I’m the one who gave the sermons."
"You know what they say? Even a doctor needs another when he’s unwell."
I lower my eyebrows. "Are you saying—"
"Nothing. You do you, Ed. Find your way. I have every confidence that you will."
I snort. "What-fucking-ever."
He laughs. "The classic rejoinder of a man who’s at a loss for words. Also,"—he nods toward the clock on the wall—"you need to rush if you don't want to be late."
* * *
Iamlate but not for the meeting with her. I left instructions with my HR director to get her settled in. I'm on my way to a much more important meeting. When I walk into the conference room adjoining my new office, the five men in the room turn to glare at me. Once again, I'm the outsider, but I prefer it this way. They're brothers. Some of their blood runs through me, but I’ve never met them before today.
"Knox." I jerk my chin toward the man standing in the far corner. The sunlight streaming in casts his face in shadows. The other four are at strategic positions around the conference room. None of them are seated. And I’m sure their locations weren’t chosen by chance. These five are united in a way that tells me I am the opposition. The enemy. The one who came in from the cold to take over their business. The one chosen by their grandfather to take over as the CEO of their company.
"Edward,"—Knox tips up his chin—"or should I call you Priest?"
There’s a challenge in his tone—one I don’t rise to. I’ve come across enough men who’ve decided it’s best to go on the offensive when they’re backed into a corner, as my half-brothers, no doubt, are at this moment.
"Priest, I prefer Priest."
"Yet, you left the church?" This from Ryot who’s standing closest to me.
"Funny how you only value something when you don’t have it anymore," I murmur.
"Like your girl who’s not your girl anymore?" Tyler, the brother standing on the other side of the table, drawls.
Anger squeezes my guts. My pulse begins to race. "Better than not knowing if your child is your own or not." The moment the words are out of my mouth, I regret it. I raise my hands. "Sorry, that was a low blow."
Tyler’s jaw tics. A nerve pops at his temple. He folds his fingers into fists and takes a few steps forward, as if he’s about to jump over the table and hit me.
But the brother standing near him—Connor—moves forward and touches his shoulder. Tyler seems about to shake it off, but the other man says, "Don’t. William won’t be happy if you fuck up this meeting."
William.So they do refer to our grandfather by his first name? He's the chairperson of the company, so it stands to reason it’s easier for all concerned to call him any other name at work, and he’d asked me to do so the one and only time we’d met. But I’d have thought when they were among family they’d refer to him as Grandpa? Or Grandad? Not that he looks like either of those.
Tyler lowers his arms to his sides but continues to glower at me.
The fifth man who, so far, stands in one corner of the room reading, looks around, then snaps his book shut and walks over to the table. From my research, I know that Brody is the quietest of the five, and the one I know the least about. He keeps to himself and does not participate in the day-to-day running of the company. The only reason he’s here is because William asked him to come.
Brody pulls out a chair, turns it around and straddles it. The rest of the brothers look at him, their expressions ranging from anger to frustration. All of their gazes are tinged with stubbornness. Do I really want to take over the company and deal with their egos, not to mention, the roadblocks they’ll put up to block any plan I want to execute?
If it's challenge I'm looking for, being the GM of the London Ice Kings provides me plenty—or rather, did provide me plenty—right until the time they won the League, and on their first attempt. I played a role by helping to put the team together, but the glory belongs to the players. And they won the championship.
I have the option to continue as GM, but I'm ready to hand that off. I paved the way for someone else to take over and build on the foundation I set up. That's me. I prefer to do the hard work, the dirty work, the work that requires the most obstacles to be overcome. And once that's done, I moved on.
