My Best Friends Brother

Chapter 32

All the showers in the world wouldn’t make me feel clean again last night. I was in that water for hours, then again this morning, but it's made no difference. I just wish there was a reason, a legitimate reason, that I could take Liam from that cow. This is not what it means to be a brother, I’m supposed to protect him from shit like this.

His sobs are still echoing in my mind, I haven’t even been able to review my notes for this morning because my head won't stop fucking pounding with them. I know I need to get my self in the zone, this Hunter guy is no joke and he is trying to throw six months of mine and Charlie’s work straight out the fucking window. I can’t let that happen.

Placing on my favourite grey suit, I know I’ll need the confidence boost of it if I have any hope of settling this deal today. My hair still looks crap but I bet I still look better than Charlie when I get to the office considering he was still sending me drunk texts at three this morning. His coping mechanisms for stress mostly involve gin and tears.

The restaurant I picked is pretty quiet at this hour but I still booked the private room in case this guy decides he wants to go all alpha and get into a screaming match. He can go fuck himself if he thinks I’m going to let him wriggle out of this without a fight, we had a fucking deal and he signed a contract.

My hand grips my briefcase so tight as I walk into the room I could break the fucking handle. I half expect to see some old, grey haired, fat business guy in a poorly fitted suit and easily removable wedding ring that leaves his finger every time he sees a decent looking waitress.

Fuck was I wrong.

Charlie had warned me this guy had the face of an angel but the soul of a starving rattlesnake. All I know right now is he wasn’t lying about the face.

This guy couldn’t be further from what I was expecting and it’s kind of throwing me off.

It doesn’t matter Josh, he’s the enemy.

Quickly taking a deep breath, I thank the waitress who showed me in before walking over to the guy that definitely looks like he's ready to add my obituary to the list he’s reading from.

His strong cheekbones catch the rising sun so sharply, the reflecting light is blinding. Most business guys I meet are hard; hard faced, hard armoured, hard to crack. This guy looks mean but there’s an unusual softness there too. I can’t remember the last time I met a guy running a multi million dollar business that had his hair pass his damn shoulders. He’s fucking blonde to, he’s basically a Ken doll. How is this the same dude sending me abusive emails at five am?

Okay Josh, he’s got a pretty head but you need to put on your business one.

I walk towards the table, extending my hand like we’re at least going to pretend to be pleasant, but apparently this guy has other ideas. He doesn't even bother to stand up, keeping his coffee gripped in one hand and his newspaper in the other like I’m not even in the fucking room.

Okay so apparently we're playing who can be the biggest dick. No problem mate, I’ve been playing this game since I was thirteen. I’m a fucking expert.

“Joshua Jones, I’ll take a stab that you’re Xade Hunter?”

He doesn’t even look up, the prick just sits there sipping his coffee and staring endlessly at the paper before flicking casually to the financial pages.

If you were any good with them mate, we wouldn’t be sitting here so I could take your company apart and sell off the fucking pieces.

I take a seat in the chair opposite him, sliding my briefcase onto the table and ‘accidentally’ shoving his croissant to the edge. The tool finally looks up in time to catch it before it hits the floor, giving me a look that I know means he’s ready to blow. If the guy wants any hope of me not just dissolving his company into nothing but memories, he better start showing some fucking respect.

It’s not like I’m not used to this. Half of my business transactions mean sitting opposite a man who has pictured the ways he's going to kill me in his head every night for the previous few weeks, but it's part of the job. Generally I try not to be a dick about things, I know that situations like this can be difficult and there's often more emotions involved than people wish there were, but there's still a mutual recognition that needs to be shown for things to be successful.

Whether this guy wants to admit it or not, his business is failing and he needs me.

I don’t say a word, getting out my contract pages and laying them out in front of me as the waitress comes over to ask if I’d like anything. I really don’t want to be with this guy any longer than I have to so I just get some black coffee, I’ll eat on the way back to the office. I still feel kind of sick after last night anyway.

“I’m not signing the contract.”

Ah, so it can talk.

And it’s European?

“You don’t have much of a choice. You already agreed to all the terms and signed the pre sale contract, everything from here on out is a formality. If there’s anything you need me to review, I’ll be happy to do that, but this sale it is happening. If you try to prevent it further, we both know you'll still end up losing it in the end under the mountain of legal fees we’ll strap on you.”

I’m not usually one for hardball but this guy walked in here with attitude and he needs to remember who the fuck I am. I didn’t get to where I am by letting cocky trust-fund shits in their fucking twenties walk all over me.

There’s something off about this guy, the way he observes my actions and  doesn't maintain eye contact, they’re basic principles in this kind of situation. It shows power, all he has is attitude. I can’t help but wonder how many actual business transactions he's sat through, he seemed the pinnacle of confidence when I walked in but these tell tale signs all over him right now say otherwise.

I had to do pretty extensive research into the business before we took it on, I know it was originally his fathers company and he took it over maybe two years ago after he died. His background wasn't essential findings for this job but now I wish I’d looked into it, he seems more inexperienced than I thought he would, I could’ve used that.

“Until my signature is on that line, this company is still my family’s. I’m not going to give it up to some ivy tower vulture without a fight. I only agreed to let your company dissect it when I genuinely believed there were no other options, protecting the employees under my care was and is my main priority. I felt that being able to provide them with at least their pensions and a decent redundancy pay was best back then. Now I know I can keep their jobs, I won’t give up.”

Shit. In business you can fight a lot of things; pride, greed, someone’s petulant need to seduce every pretty barely legal girl that passes by them. There's one thing however that makes shit so much more difficult – heart.

I’m not a heartless prick, I don’t want to see these people out of their jobs anymore than they do, but this company is going under. Keeping them in these jobs for a few extra weeks but losing them their pensions  when you have to declare bankruptcy is not going to make these people any happier.

“I appreciate your candour Mr Hunter, it’s admirable that you wish to put the needs of your employees first, but-”

“No, it’s not admirable! It’s just decent, it's what people with actual human emotions do. I’m sure someone like you, in your ten thousand dollar suit and watch that costs more than most peoples houses, has no idea what it's like to actually care about someone’s well being that wasn’t providing you with a cheque!”

Is he fucking kidding me? Firstly, Brie found me this suit at one of her bargain outlet places and I’m not entirely sure she actually paid for it. One minute she was in a slanging match with the girl behind the counter, the next she was running out of the store, throwing this suit at me and telling me to get in the bug quick.

Secondly, how the fuck would he know what my opinions are on shit like this? Making assumptions about me based on where I fucking work. I come from money, yes, but I’ve never touched a penny of it! The moment I became an adult I did everything myself, got a scholarship to go to college and worked three fucking jobs! I’ve earned and built everything I fucking have.

“I’ve seen what the damage can be if employees aren't properly taken care of during this kind of transaction. It’s why I included all the protections for them in the contract as a necessity! If you think they're better off working for a sinking ship for an extra couple of months, then losing everything, rather then getting a decent payday that will allow them the time and opportunity to find new work, then you clearly don’t have their best interests in the way that I do.”

He seems stunned, and he should. Making those kind of hypothesis about people and their motivations isn't going to serve him well in this industry.

“Look, you still have four other companies under your umbrella. If I was in your position I’d be using that angel investor to protect those businesses, those employees, hopefully growing them to a point you can transfer some of the people who lose their jobs in this takeover into other realms of your employment. I’m happy to help you with that, I’ve reviewed your figures and I know where you could improve. But this one mate, this one is already over.”

He hesitates for a moment, the confidence that I thought was so fake earlier appears much more real as he lifts the croissant to his lips while staring directly at me. What the fuck is he looking at? I’ve never been so grateful in my life to see a waitress as I am when this one brings in my coffee and I can finally tear myself away from the tension in the room.

This guy may not be the most experienced businessman, but that cocky attitude doesn't come from nowhere.

“Why would you offer to do that? It won't benefit you.” That’s the bit he’s caught up on?

“Because I’m not the dick you guessed I was?” The small curl up at the corner of his lips tells me I might actually be making it through that thick skull of his. “I don’t actually like tearing down decent hard working people, if there’s something I can do to protect or help them, I will.”

Taking a sip of his coffee, he reaches over and takes the pages from in front of me. They’re the same ones he has so I don’t know why he needs mine but whatever, he doesn’t need to touch my fucking hand while he does it either.

As his eyes move from line to line on a contract I’m sure he’s already read thirty times, I actually notice how green they are.

They’re not bright green like grass or even the dark green of a moss covered sunken ship. They are more piercing than that, a cool turquoise green that would probably be seriously calming if it was painted on your walls.

“This part here, the bit about the saved percentage. I want that changed from twenty-five to five. Add the difference to the redundancy payments.”

Is he mad?

“You do realise that’s your cut, yeah? You’re literally talking about robbing yourself of millions of dollars.”

He shrugs, like I just told him he dropped a penny on the floor. Does he have a fucking martyr complex or something?

“I don’t need it. They do. I just need enough to keep everything else running smoothly until my sister takes over.”

Wait, his sister?

“You’re giving your sister the business?”

He shakes his head. “Not exactly. It should have been hers all along, she's the oldest and she's been involved with everything here since she was sixteen. Father was old fashioned, he left it to me because I have a cock not because I’m actually someone that wants it.”

I can’t help but laugh, he seems to find the humour in it too as he chuckles lightly.

“I would have given it to her the day he died but she'd just had my baby niece and wanted some time with her before this took over her life again. I said I’d look after the place until she got back, as you can see I’m doing a pretty piss poor job of it.”

I’ve been spending too much time with Brie, I suddenly get the urge to reach out and touch the guy to give him some kind of comfort or reassurance crap. The moment my fingers touch his wrist I realise I’ve made a mistake and pull them back, although from the way his eyes shoot up to meet mine the damage was already done.

“Sorry. I just... You aren’t failing these people by making a hard choice that will protect them, trust me. I’ve sat across this table from guys that would happily see every man and woman under their employment on the streets, rather than give up a single penny of the money they’ve made off of those same peoples backs. What you’re doing isn’t failure, it's loyalty.”

I can see my words rushing through his head. I just hope he listens to them, I wouldn’t be telling him to do this if I didn’t genuinely believe it was for the best. I’m not that kind of guy, even if it does get me in trouble sometimes with the ruthless twats upstairs.

“Do you know what you want to do when she takes over?” I try to change the subject and give him a moment to process as I take a sip of my coffee.

“Kids.”

My coffee explodes from my mouth, covering both the contracts and table in a splattering of hazel. It kind of looks like Miles’ eye colour... Damn it, not now Josh!

He bursts out into hysterical laughter.

“Jesus Christ! Not like that!” He’s still giggling as he passes me the napkin from in front of him, me taking until this very moment to realise I’ve also ruined my suit in the process. Brilliant Josh, well fucking done you idiot.

“I mean working with kids. I had the money my mother left me when I finished high school and started two foundations that work with underprivileged kids and kids from impoverished areas. I haven’t been able to give them the attention they deserve running all this, the second I’m out that’s where you’ll find me.”

You don’t meet a lot of genuine guys in this world, it’s actually refreshing to know they still exist.

“That’s amazing, really. One of my best friends works out of the studio on Bleaker? Those kids are good, a lot of them just need some support to get out of the cycle they find themselves in.”

He looks up at me, questioning me with his gaze and making me slightly fucking shy. Those eyes of his are way too intense...

“You know Ms Day? She’s your friend?”

I chuckle into my coffee, I probably shouldn’t tell him that she’s very likely the person that frightens me most in the world. I’d rather spend a night in a possessed hotel with Jack Nicholson than face her five foot of Russian attitude.

“No, but I know her well. My friend Brianna Parker runs her P.R. firm out of the offices upstairs there... You know the quickest way to get to that dream of yours is just to sign these contracts right?”

A smirk spreads across his face, I know it's pushing my luck trying to force him right now but I think he actually appreciates me taking a step back from business mode. He’s falling for my charms... if I have any.

“Okay, can you just give me a few more days to get everything looked at? We can meet back here this time next week to finalise everything  before we sign?”

Thank fuck for that.

“Of course. I’ll have that section amended and the whole thing sent over to you this afternoon.”

All the tension finally seems to leave the room, him relaxing his stance into the soft fabric of the chair behind him and taking the deep breath I guess he’s needed since I walked in here.

“Okay.... So, now you know I’m not so much of a dick either, do you want to order some breakfast?”

I’m not going to lie, I’ve been considering snatching that pastry out of his hand for the last five minutes.

He hits the button on the table and the smiley waitress comes back in. I’m almost offended by the lack of attention she seems to be giving me considering I’m the guy ordering, but with what the bloke across the table from me looks like I can’t really blame the girl. She takes my order after her eyelashes stop fluttering at him and leaves the room, making sure to throw an extra swing in her hips that apparently this guy misses completely as his view locks on me.

We go over the rest of the contract, me filling up on probably the best food I’ve had in a fortnight since I’ve been eating out of the camp cafeteria for so fucking long. Finally finishing and devouring my last coffee as well, I begin to pack everything back into my briefcase.

“You’re not exactly what I was expecting Mr. Jones, I thought you’d be a carbon copy of all my fathers friends.”

I laugh, slipping the final pages into their holder.

“It’s just Josh. I was going to say the same thing about you. I didn’t expect you to be so..”

“Incredibly handsome?”

Well, that too, but mostly - “Young.”

He smirks, that glint in his eye slightly brighter than it was earlier. As I stand and pick up my case, I catch his eyes travelling down over me discreetly. What is this guy doing? Fuck, is he checking me out?

I make to step towards the door when suddenly he rises, extending his hand this time for me to shake. The temptation to leave him hanging just as he did me earlier is kind of overwhelming, but I don’t think it will serve either of us well to start the ‘who can be a bigger cock’ arrangement again. So I shake it, firmly.

He looks me in the eye as he talks, never letting go of my hand and keeping his grip strong.

“I'm sorry I was like that when you came in. It was a dick move. I'm not used to not dealing with idiots, most of the men I’ve met since I took over make my skin crawl, and they couldn’t care less about who they stand on to reach the top. Besides, you know how much harder it is in this world for guys like us.”

His glare is kind of captivating, I can’t actually stop looking at him, my eyebrows still raise on instinct at his comment though.

"Guys like us?"

There's a small smile playing on his lips but he quickly wipes it away. “Guys who don't exactly fit the conventional mould of what we should be to succeed. Often not making it in a world where most deals are made over a glass of scotch, a round of golf and a shared hooker. That's never going to be us... for obvious reasons.”

Okay that gay vibe I picked up on earlier is now more of a glaring beacon flashing above his head.

“Maybe you shouldn't be so presumptuous.”

He smirks. “Maybe.. but I don't think I'm wrong here.”

Maybe not, but he doesn't need the satisfaction of knowing he's right either.

I gently pull my hand from his grip, ignoring his subtly shocked reaction when he realises how long he was holding on to me. I hadn’t actually realised he was a touch shorter than me until he stood up, now he's close I’m almost looking down at him. He's slimmer too, the shadow of my broad shoulders engulfing his narrower chest, although that power blue suit is doing nothing to hide the tone underneath it. The guy is fit.

“It was very nice to meet you Mr Hunter, a hope next time things can be this friendly from the offset.”

He steps back, standing strong to face me.

“Mr Hunter was my father, I’m just Xade. I hope so too... Josh.”

My name in that accent... Yeah, I won’t say it doesn’t sound good.

Making my way through the restaurant, I’m so fucking grateful we haven’t lost this account. I hardly get one foot out the door before my phone starts ringing again with Charlie’s number filling up my screen.

“Please tell me you fixed this. I don’t care if you have to shove that Queens dick down your throat so far you swallow the damn thing, we need this bitch.”

Remind me why I put up with this guy again?

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