5. Kian

5

KIAN

" L ong day?" I ask Kingston, my older brother, when he falls into the seat on the other side of my desk with a loud sigh as I finish reviewing the spreadsheet in front of me.

"Something like that," he mutters, slumping back and getting comfortable.

"You look exhausted," I point out.

He grunts. "Tatum," he says as if that explains everything.

"Ah, I see. I gotta say, I'm impressed that the honeymoon stage has lasted this long. I had money on her having killed you by now."

"Fuck off. She'd never do that. She needs my dick too much."

"Evidently," I mutter as a weird feeling knots my stomach.

I want to say it's jealousy, but that's fucking crazy.

I don't want what he's found with Tate.

The same woman day in, day out.

No, thank you.

I fucking love my life and the variety of women I have the pleasure of spending time with.

Maybe it's pity. That's a similar kinda feeling, right?

"Sadly, I wasn't awake half the night because I was balls deep in my wife," he mutters disappointedly.

"Oh? Arguing with Grizzy again?" I chuckle, thinking of the hate/hate relationship King has with Tate's cat.

"Fuck off. Me and that annoying little fluff puff are like this now," he says holding a hand up to show me his crossed fingers.

"Of course you are." My cell lights up beside me with a message from my little sister. "So, what's the problem then?" I ask, focusing on my brother for now.

"Tatum's taken to talking in her sleep."

"What?"

He shrugs. "Fuck knows, Bro. I've read all the books and tried to understand everything she's going to experience in the next few months, but not one book or website says anything about women talking in their sleep during pregnancy."

"Right," I mutter, trying not to openly laugh at him. I can't help it; the thought of catching him with his nose in a book that's called something along the lines of What to Expect When You're Expecting is just too much to handle.

I always knew that he'd have to have a kid or two. As the eldest of three brothers, it's his responsibility to produce the next lot of Callahan heirs to hand all this down to.

It's one of the few things that makes being the second, and middle, child almost bearable.

I've lived in his shadow all of my fucking life, watched as he had everything handed to him without question. But I've never forgotten about the responsibilities that come hand in hand with all those benefits.

"What?" he snaps.

Rubbing my jaw, I try to picture my big brother as a dad. The only time I've ever seen him hold a baby was when we were kids and Kieran was born. Since then, he's had zero interest in anyone's womb goblin.

"You're gonna be a great dad," I say, turning the conversation more serious.

I don't need to hear that he's been reading up on it all to know that fact.

There isn't one single thing that Kingston Callahan has ever failed at.

Hell, he even succeeded in making Tatum fall in love with him after she was forced to marry him to get her inheritance.

At this point, I find it hard to believe that there is anything out there that my big brother can't conquer, take over, or turn into a success. And that includes managing to keep a newborn baby alive and well.

Of course, he'll have Tatum by his side. Together, they are a force to be reckoned with. In all honesty, I feel a little sorry for my unborn niece or nephew—they have no idea about the kind of parents they're going to have to contend with.

"I've no idea if you're being serious or not," Kingston mutters, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Good. You know how I like to keep you on your toes. Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you had meetings at Warner Group all day?"

"Last one finished early. Thought I'd better show my face, make sure you're not running this place into the ground in my absence."

I glare at him.

Sure, I might not be the almighty Kingston Callahan; I'm merely his mostly overlooked younger brother, but I was born just as ready for this as he was.

"Things are going swimmingly," I state through gritted teeth. "In fact, I've got the last quarter figures right here."

I spin my monitor around to show him—not that he'll be able to decipher the mass of figures.

Kingston might be a kick-ass CEO, but his skills do not lie within the sheets like mine do. Pun intended.

His eyes scan the figures before he nods confidently and finally spins the conversation to why he's really here.

"How'd the interviews go earlier? Find the one?"

Martin's assistant suddenly handing in her notice with immediate effect, after she discovered both her parents had been in a life-threatening car accident back home, wasn't an ideal situation.

Karla was so much more than his assistant, though. She was his right-hand man. And in turn, she was also mine.

It's only been a couple of weeks without her, but already, we're feeling her loss.

Martin is fantastic at his job, but if left alone for too long he can be a bit chaotic. He needs someone to keep him grounded.

And I need…Well, I haven't had an assistant for quite some time, if I'm being honest.

Since embarking on this job after college, I've been through…a lot of them.

None of them stood up to the job expected of them.

In the end, I gave up trying. All of them made more work for me than necessary, and I discovered life was just easier without one.

Melissa, Kingston's assistant, will help out where necessary, but more often than not, I called on Karla.

"Yeah, they were good," I say simply.

"So? Did someone make the cut?"

Pushing to my feet, I stalk around my desk and toward my drink cabinet.

Without asking, I grab two glasses and pour a generous measure of scotch into them. From the look of Kingston's dark eyes, he needs more than one to get him through the rest of the day.

"Martin has a couple of options," I say as I pass him a glass.

"Lorelei?" he asks, abandoning beating around the bush.

"I'm not hiring her just because she's Tate's best friend," I scoff.

"Did I say you should?" he counters.

No, he hasn't. But the fact he told me that she'd applied and spilled the tea on the reason why she was currently unemployed in the hope of making the process as easy for her as possible, clued me in on his intentions.

I get it, he'd do anything for Tatum. But I refuse to put someone we can't trust in a high-profile position like that; someone who will have access to our figures, our accounts, our everything.

She's been fired for stealing, for fuck's sake.

Tatum might have some kind of magical pussy or whatever it is that turns my hard-assed big brother to mush around her, but that doesn't mean her demands have the same effect on me.

My focus is on the business and our future, and it always will be.

Lorelei might be the best candidate Martin saw today, but if we can't trust her, then it doesn't just put her at the bottom of the list, it makes her fall off it completely.

Our father, our grandfather, and those who came before them, didn't work as hard as they did for us to lose our minds because of a woman and watch it all disappear from beneath us.

Not fucking happening.

"Kian?" Kingston warns when I don't respond quickly enough.

"What?" I snap.

"What did you do?"

I sit forward, studying my brother, trying to figure out when he started being able to read my thoughts without me saying a word.

"I assisted Martin with her interview."

"For fuck's sake, Kian," he groans, lifting his glass to his lips for another drink as if someone has magically refilled it for him. "I promised Tatum that?—"

"And there lies the fucking problem, brother," I taunt. "Tate's great. I love her, I do. She's fantastic at her job, and the fact that she can keep you in check is a fucking bonus, but I'm not taking her assurances about her best friend at face value like you are."

"Lorelei isn't a thief, K. Her boss was an asshole."

I smirk, shaking my head.

"Do you have any fucking idea how whipped you sound right now? The Kingston Callahan I remember wouldn't even have considered interviewing someone with a possible theft investigation hanging over their head."

His mouth opens to respond, but he quickly changes his mind.

"I need more scotch for this," he finally mutters. "You done for the day?" he asks before standing from the chair and stalking toward the door.

"Uh…"

"Sorry, I'll rephrase. You are done for the day. Shut down and let's go."

I want to argue. I've got a shit ton of work to do, but I know that when Kingston is in this mood, I've got very little choice but to agree.

There are times you can attempt to say no to him, and this isn't one of them.

"Sure," I mutter, turning my monitor off before grabbing my cell and jacket. I'll message Kenzie back on the way. "Lead the way, boss."

O ne drink while we discussed business quickly turned into four, maybe five, possibly even six or seven.

However many it is, it's safe to say that they hit Kingston hard after his sleepless night.

I can count on one hand how many times I've seen my big brother drunk; he likes to treat his body like a temple, but it seems that tonight is one of them.

"Fucking hell." I laugh as he catches his foot as he attempts to climb out of the car and flies toward a very unprepared-looking Lewis.

"Whoa," Lewis grunts, just managing to catch Kingston before he takes both of them down.

"Come on, you drunken imbecile," I tease as I wrap my hand around his upper arm and drag him toward the elevator. "Tate is going to rip me a new one for this. It wasn't even my idea," I point out. "Lewis, any chance you could hang around to take me home?" I ask over my shoulder.

"Of course, sir," he agrees with a smile.

The car rises through the building as Kingston attempts to tell me that he's fine and barely even drunk.

It's funny. I just hope that Tate will see it the same way.

"She loves me," he slurs when I say just as much. "She'll be fine."

"Yeah, we'll see." I snort as I throw his front door open and shove him through it.

The second I step inside, a loud, angry voice hits my ears.

"Yeah, well, he's a fucking asshole."

Instantly, my hackles rise.

I know that voice.

I heard it only a few hours ago.

"And he just sat there staring at me as if he owns the fucking world. It was unbelievable."

"What's going on?" Kingston slurs, storming toward the living area faster than his legs should be able to move in his condition. "Oh hey, Lorelei. I didn't expect to see you here."

I cringe hard, and it only gets worse when Tatum announces, "Oh really? So my message letting you know that she was here didn't give you any kind of clue?"

"Fuck my life," I mutter under my breath, a beat before rounding the corner and making my presence known. "Good evening, Tate," I say happily before turning my eyes on Lorelei. She's still wearing the same black dress as she was for her interview, although she's lost her jacket, allowing me to see just how fitted it really is. Her hair is wild, as if she's spent every minute since she left the Callahan building running her fingers through it. Her cheeks are flushed red and her eyes are burning like a wildfire.And on her lap sits my favorite fur ball.

Griz's eyes light up at the sight of me, and she launches herself from Lorelei and straight into my arms.

As I drop my gaze to Griz, Lorelei's stare burns into the side of my head.

She might be as drunk as King is, but that hasn't lessened her anger at all.

She's furious, and the knowledge that I've affected her so much lights something up inside me.