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Her determination is evident, however, the scale and complexity of Project SoHo is unlike anything we’ve tackled. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, and I’ve thought a lot about what we talked about. SoHo is a massive undertaking. It’s not only about managing the project, it’s about navigating the political landscape, public opinion, international standards—”
“I know what it entails, Peter.” She cuts me off, her tone firm. “I’ve been with this company for years. I’ve managed complex projects. I deserve this chance.”
I narrow my eyes. Her approach surprises me, there must be something going on. “I’ll make the decision at the appropriate time. As I was saying before you cut me off, there are a lot of factors at play. My plan is for you to have a leadership role, but it depends on what the committee says.”
“Peter…I didn’t mean…” Rose looks crushed.
It’s time for me to cut her off. “Look. I’m not questioning your capabilities or your dedication. I’m saying SoHo could be a ten-year commitment. It’s not purely about technical skills; it’s about long-term vision, adaptability to an international stage. As you’re aware, this is something I’ll likely personally oversee.”
Her expression tightens. “ The thing is, I met someone. I want to relocate to be with him.”
“Ah.” I realize the reason for her unusual behavior. “Duly noted. Let's wait until we hear back. I promise you’ll be at the top of the list for a prime role.”
Rose puffs out a breath. “I hope so. I’ve given a lot to this firm. I’ve earned this opportunity.”
With nothing more to say, she leaves my office. Mentoring staff is tough. I often find myself torn. On the one hand, I want to support and uplift my team. On the other, it’s my responsibility to make the right call for my business.
As the minutes pass, her visit weighs heavily on me. I’d hate to lose Rose, she’s been my rock throughout this process. As between her and the rest of my team, she’s definitely the person I’d trust the most to lead this project if it wasn’t me. Something about her approach rubbed me the wrong way.
Which sucks. No matter what the outcome, my decisions will leave a bitter taste for someone.
Ah, the perils of being a boss.
My thoughts are interrupted by the ping of my phone. I’m almost afraid to look, but I do.
Holy shit. It’s my brother Lance. It’s been years since he and I spoke directly. Fear stabs at my heart. Has something happened to one of my parents? Fuck. With a sense of foreboding, I dial his number. The call connects, and I brace myself for what’s to come.
“Lance, what’s going on?” I strive to keep my voice even.
His voice slithers through the phone, the same old mash-up of greed and malice I remember. “Petey! Good to hear your voice.”
“Is Mom okay? Dad?” I pinch the bridge of my nose at his disrespect of using a nickname I hate. Ten seconds in and I’m aware of what a bad fucking idea it is to talk to him.
Lance sucks in a drag on his cigarette. Or joint. Or vape. Who knows. “Yeah, yeah.” He blows out loudly. “Bro, I hear you’re with Ms. big titty hot-as-fuck tattoo chick, Jordan Deveraux. Amiright?”
“How the fuck do you know Jordan?” My blood turns to ice at his insulting reference to the woman I love. This is my worst fucking nightmare. “And, who says we’re together?”
His sinister laugh makes me sick. “Ah, brother. You’re so fucking predictable. Defending a juicy piece of ass. Don’t you know by now I know every fucking thing about your life? Just like I know with Jason Deveraux backing you, it’s time you shared the wealth. Your debt to the family doesn't end, and you know why.”
Jesus. My brother—a man who lives with his aging parents with no job and no legitimate prospects—has watched too many mob movies. However, the implication of this call hits me like a tsunami. Is he seriously threatening to use my past against me with Jordan and her family?
“I’ve made it clear to Mom, there’s no more money. That’s not up for discussion.” I’m so mad my hands shake.
Lance’s voice grows cold and emotionless. “Oh, Petey. Petey. Petey. You stupid little fuck. Always playing the righteous card. Let’s not forget, you haven’t always been Mr. Perfect. Remember your little felony scam back in college? How do you think sexy Jordan Deveraux would feel if she knew? Not to mention her rich daddy. You know what? I should report it. You're no better than any of us. Maybe a stint in jail will knock you off your high horse.”
And just like that, my instincts are confirmed.
“You wouldn’t dare.” A cold chill runs down my spine. He wouldn't dare expose me, would he? “There’s no way you’d risk your gravy train drying up.”
Lance is completely unbothered. “Seems to me, you’ve sealed your own fate. You may think you’re so powerful hiding behind your stupid company and all the publicity you get for being such a woke fucking pussy man. Don’t forget, you’re living in a glass house, brother. It won’t take much to shatter it. A nudge in the right direction, and your perfect little world comes crashing down.”
“How the fuck did you get this way.” I clench the phone tighter, anger and disbelief coursing through me. “Do you have a decent fucking bone in your body?”
“Business is business,” he replies coldly. “All you are to me is a good opportunity. One I intend to capitalize on.”
I hang up on him, disgusted. Ever since I gave my mother the 250K, her attempts to contact me have been persistent, but I’ve held firm to my boundaries.
This is different. Lance is likely coming after me, the woman I love, and her family.
