The Intern: The Billionaire's Successor

“Since I met someone who would give up anything for their brother,” I answered. “Who would do anything for their brother. We deserve that, Kieran.”

“You don’t make it easy either,” he mentions.

“How so?”

“Dad would Sophie’s-Choice-me in a heartbeat if it meant saving you or benefitting you,” he answers flatly. “He’s made it abundantly clear that I have no place in the company—that I barely have a place at the dinner table. Hell, I’m not even good enough to give his damn birthday toasts.”

“And this is my fault?”

“Not entirely, but yes, to some extent.”

“Kieran, I’m your brother,” I finally say. “I’m not your enemy, I’m not your rival, and I’m not your father. All I’ve ever wanted was to be good to you and to keep you and Julia away from all of this bullshit that you both hate so much.”

“You think I hate this?” he snaps back, his face contorted into a dark expression. “When has anyone ever asked me if I wanted to be a part of this? What, just because you and Gray were born first means that you two magically get to inherit the company? What about me? What if I wanted to have a seat on the board one day?”

I blink slowly, trying to process his words. “Do you?”

He lifts both shoulders. “What do you think?”

“I assumed that this wasn’t what you wanted. You never said anything. You always shit on the company and mock me for working here. I figured…”

Kieran breathes out slowly. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to be your brother?” he questions. “I’m not like Peter, who doesn’t give a shit about Gray’s big, looming shadow. I have to live in yours all the time and it’s like it gets bigger every day. Davis is the smartest one, Davis is the nicest one, Davis has the instincts. You’re everything to this family. Back then, I could get away with convincing myself that I was better looking and had better social skills, but then you had to go and turn into Bruce Wayne, so now what the hell do I have?”

“What exactly do you want?” I counter. “A seat on the board? A job? Hell, go to business school. Ask dad for a job. Tell him what you want. It’s not that hard.”

“And then you don’t talk to me,” he goes on. “You never call me. Text me.”

“I was angry. But I’m not angry anymore.”

Kieran breathes out. “You’re not?”

“Nope,” I reply. “Look, this is a foreign concept to both of us, but apparently it’s pretty common for people to have shitty experiences in their life that make them more capable in the future.”

“No shit,” he deadpans, playing along.

“We’re going to move past this. You’re going to stay out of my love life for the rest of our time on this earth, and I’m going to figure out how to get you into dad’s good graces.”

“You’d do that? Because you’ve never…”

He trails off as I move forward and draw him into my arms, hugging him tightly—so tightly that he can’t even move his own arms. I’ve never hugged my brother like this, not in our adult lives, at least. There were times when he was a kid, when mom moved out and the tabloids posted pictures of her in Paris spending dad’s money. There were the times when Julia would verbally decimate him to tears. I hugged him then. Not again until now.

“I love you,” I tell him. “Nothing will ever change that.”

“I love you too,” he responds. “And I’m not the only one.”

I shrug my shoulders. “Dad loves a winner. It could have been any of us.”

“I’m not talking about dad,” he replies.

The implication is obvious; he’s talking about Olivia.

“She doesn’t—”

“She does,” Kieran insists. “You should have seen how much trouble I had convincing her to leave you. I was about to offer her half a million.”

I shake my head at that. “Too soon.”

“Yeah, I could hear it as I was saying it,” he admits grimly.

Sighing, I say, “Well, it’s finished. She’s going back to Philly and that’s that. I doubt I’ll ever see her again.”

Kieran releases this gentle scoff. “If only you had unlimited resources and some knowledge of how to get to the location where she’s headed. Gosh, that would be helpful.”

“She doesn’t want to see me.”

“Just like she didn’t want to have sex with you for free?” Kieran replies.

Smart ass.

“Tomorrow’s problem,” I decide before I pat him on the back. “Tonight, we have to sit through a seven-course dinner and I have to think of what I’m going to say when I get up to give dad’s toast and introduce you instead.”

Kieran hesitates with his hand on the doorknob. “You mean that? But won’t dad be angry?”

“Rule number ninety-nine in the Ridgeway Guide to Success: It’s easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. And even when it’s not, at least you’ve gotten your way.”

He chuckles. “I wish I had any idea what the hell you were talking about.”

“I have a gift for you,” I inform him. “A book dad gave to me fourteen years ago. It’s about time you inherited it.”