One More Time

My head hurt from drinking a wee bit too much the night before. Okay, a lot too much, but I hid it well. The bags under my eyes seemed to stand out more than normal. Those, I couldn't do much about, so I just had to roll with it. “Mr. Crane, you look rather sleepy this morning,” Alba, our faithful housekeeper, said with a knowing smile.

She handed me a cup of coffee without me even asking. She knew me too well.

“Thanks, Alba, but I've told you. Don't call me Mr. Crane,” I said with a smile. “That's my father's name.”

Alba had been with my family for at least as long as I've been alive. Probably longer than that. Her dark hair was more gray than brown these days, her smooth face showing subtle signs of age. She was at least the same age as my dad, if not a little older. Health-wise though, she seemed to be faring much better than the old man.

“You're going to be the head of the family before long,” she winked. “Better get used to being called Mr. Crane, CEO of Crane Enterprises.”

“Yeah, not exactly looking forward to that,” I said.

Alba might have been right though. Given my father's health, it might be the reason we were all gathered for a family meeting. Officially, it was my mom who called the meeting – though I knew she was acting on my father's instructions. She sat across from me, holding her head high and looked as dignified as ever as she sipped her tea. She'd never been one for coffee, never needed it. She'd always been full of life and zest; something that hadn't change all that much despite the fact that she was getting older herself.

Her hair was freshly colored and neatly piled on top of her head in a light blonde bun. Her mouth suddenly twisted into a frown and she stared past me. I didn't have to turn around to see the reason for her disdain – his voice could be heard all the way down the hallway.

“Good morning, Cranes,” Adam said as he sauntered into the parlor room.

He smirked at me as he passed me by. The woman on his arm didn't dare look at me, but her appearance hit me like a sledgehammer to the gut.

“Danielle?” I asked.

I stood, surprised and appalled to see my ex-girlfriend on Adam's arm. We'd split up not even twenty-four hours before and yet, there she was, slinking along with my brother like nothing happened.

She didn't make eye contact with me, her blue eyes wide as if she didn't understand how she got there. Adam leaned close and kissed her to taunt me. Danielle kissed him back – looking very enthusiastic. My blood boiled inside of me, but I knew I had to keep myself in check. This wasn't the time or place for it.

“Brother – or shall I say – half-brother, since that's clearly what I am to you,” he greeted me, stepping forward and letting go of Danielle's hand. “Surprised to see me?”

“Not at all,” I said.

I wasn't surprised to see him tu

rn up. I was surprised to see her, though. Even more surprised to see her with him. Danielle finally met my gaze and I felt that familiar shudder roll through me. She’d always had a profound effect on me.

She looked beautiful, as she always did. Her white-blonde hair sleek and straight, fell down and kissed just the tops of her shoulders. She was nearly six feet tall in her heels, and completely lean. Almost too thin, thanks to her blossoming career as a model. Personally, I liked her better when she had a few curves

“No? Then why do you look so shell-shocked?” Adam teased, patting me on the back.

His eyes move toward where I was staring – at Danielle. The smile on his face was predatory and malicious. He looked back at me and I could see the cold gleam in his eyes.

“Ah yeah, I guess I understand now,” he said. “But she said you two were over, so I assumed it was fine?”

“We are over,” I said, standing tall as I looked over at my ex. “She's all yours Adam. Enjoy yourself.”

He patted me on the back again, leaning into me. “Don't worry. You can have her back when I'm done with her. It's not love or anything like that. We're both just looking for a good time, nothing more.”

Adam was an asshole. He's been an asshole since the day he first came into this household. I understood why he was the way he was. I'd imagine being the family bastard would make anyone a little bitter and resentful. Never being considered “pure” or “real” in regard to the family would be enough to piss most people off. I got that. But, he seemed to take it to an extreme. Seemed to revel in it, in fact.

His mother wasn't my mother, even though we were only a year apart. He was a year younger than me. My father sent money to his mother for years, unbeknownst to us, which was why my mom still refused to accept him into the family. He was my father's dirty little secret and she continued to think of him as such.

It was not Adam's fault. He didn't ask to be born into such a screwed-up situation, so I'd always tried to be decent to him. But damn, he made it hard sometimes. He liked to poke me every chance he got. It was as if he was goading me, trying to make me go off on him. We've had our fights growing up, don't get me wrong. We weren't close by any means, and likely never would be. But, I’d always tried to remain civil toward him.

Alba happened to answer the door the day Adam had shown up on our porch, and I'll never forget when she stepped into the dining room, during dinner, and whispered something to my father. She looked distinctly uncomfortable, and we all knew something was up. Little did we know his bastard child was standing in our foyer, ready to disrupt our lives forever.

“She's all yours, Adam,” I said. “I don't want her back. Ever.”

I wanted to say something more biting, something that would cut her to the core. But, I didn't. I remained civil even though it was killing me to do so. My gaze never left Danielle though, who held her head high. She heard me, I made sure of it, but my words didn't seem to have any effect on her. Or, if they did, she was doing a masterful job of hiding it.

I left Adam alone with Danielle and joined my mother on the sofa. She was staring into the fire, sipping her tea, trying her best to pretend that Adam wasn't there. I understood her pain and disdain for my half-brother. I didn't necessarily agree with it, but I understood it. Adam was a constant reminder that her husband hadn't always been faithful to her. My mom's discomfort was completely justified when that reminder stood within ten feet of her.