Jia
I pull in a deep breath and will myself to move.
I can do this.
It will be fine.
All I have to do this time is try harder than last time to forget the past.
That’s all.
I just have to do that thing professionals tell you in therapy to replace one
image in your mind with something else. A happy thought, better memories. A hope or a wish. Anything.
I came to work today prepped to think of my vacation plans for Italy in a few
months. That was the plan. I even kept up the image as I walked into the building.
Then it started to dwindle when I got to my father’s office and the thought of what awaited me inside hit me hard.
I should say who…
My problem is a who, and today, it’s not Dad.
It’s Paul… my ex-stepbrother, who’s a literal thorn in my damn side, and heart.
Fucking bastard. I can’t believe I still allow him to affect me.
Today will be a different kind of pain, though, if my suspicions are right. Last night, Dad told me he wanted to see the both of us because he’d come to a decision on Montrose Place, the building I’ve wanted for so long.
I must look like I’m crazy, standing outside his door, paralyzed in thought as I contemplate how this will play out.
I think Dad’s going to give the building to Paul.
I overheard him saying so several months ago to his accountant, and I’ve been on edge ever since, waiting for the confirmation of shit. He knows how badly I want that building, but I think, despite all that I’ve told him, he’d prefer for Paul to have it.
I couldn’t have been more shocked when I found out Paul was after the building too. I never knew there would be any question about who should get it.
Last week, when Dad and I argued, he was adamant that he wanted to do things his way. As usual. So, his way will decide the next step for my future.
I glance at the clock hanging on the wall by the reception desk.
I’m officially late by two minutes. I have to go in now.
I push the door open and assume professional mode. In my little black business dress, I look the part. Now, I just have to act like it.
Dad looks at me instantly, giving me that look of disapproval because I’m late. He hates lateness of any kind even if it’s a minute or two.
I’m not focusing on him though. I’m looking at Paul as he turns to face me.
As soon as our eyes lock, all thoughts of my vacation fade from my mind.
The last time we saw each other was two years ago, at the most awkward Christmas meetup ever.
He was twenty-nine then, and when I saw him, I cursed myself for thinking how hot he was.
Now, he’s thirty-one and looks exactly the way you’d imagine an ex-marine lieutenant would look. Gorgeous, with a masterpiece body that’s powerfully built and lined with muscles.