2. Carter

Chapter 2

Carter

“ F uck!”

With more force than anticipated, I pull my helmet off my head and flinch.

“Too slow, little brother,” Teddy gloats. “Is that fancy new Ninja unable to live up to the hype, or is it perhaps a user error?”

“Screw you, Theodore,” I throw the mirth-laced words at my brother as we walk our motorbikes back to the sheds. Teddy’s deep belly laugh rings out around us while the smell of rubber-marred asphalt encases my nostrils. It’s quiet when we reach the shed; the past hour of wind that threatened to whistle straight through my eardrums now nowhere to be seen.

Theodore Lawrence, affectionately known by our family as Teddy, is practically my twin. We’re the spitting image of each other despite the fact he has two years and two inches on me. The latter is a fact he’ll tell anyone who’ll listen. He loves it when we’re mistaken for twins; it makes his old arse feel younger than his thirty-one years.

“It’s alright, bud, someone has to lose.”

The fucking cheek of this guy.

“Keep shit-talking, old man, see what happens.”

Teddy throws his head back, that distinctive sound filling the air once more. We remove our racing gear, place the items into the dry-cleaning bags hanging overhead, and head into the rooms to change.

It’s a typically dreary December afternoon, and we’ve just finished our bi-weekly Saturday race. We frequent many of the British circuits, but Brands Hatch is a personal favourite of both of us.

The Lawrences of the 1910s were a founding family of the British Motorcycle Racing Club, and the men in our family have been members every generation since.

I’d never admit it to him, but unfortunately my brother is right—my head isn’t in it, and my racing was garbage at best. Teddy is a good rider, great even, but it’s a rare occurrence for him to beat me. Most days, I absolutely thrash him on the track, and he knows it.

“What’s going through that little head of yours, Carter?” My brother turns to face me as we head through the shed into the common room, each grabbing a beer from the mini-fridge. “You looked sloppy out there.”

Absent-mindedly, I bring the beer bottle to my mouth. Resting it against my bottom lip for a moment, I drag it away again. Apparently, I’m too lost in my own head to remember to take a sip. “The past few weeks have caught up with me since the announcement in the executive meeting yesterday and, fuck man, it’s a lot to process when it hits you all at once.”

The crease between Teddy’s eyebrows softens.

He places his beer on the bench we’re leaning against. “Of course it’s a lot, Carter. You’re twenty-nine years old and being placed in charge of the largest law firm in England.” Teddy levels with me. “But Father wouldn’t have asked this of you if he didn’t believe you were more than capable of handling not only the role, but its responsibilities.”

The breath I wasn’t aware I was holding escapes me. Raking my fingers through the dark locks of hair atop my head with my free hand, I take a long sip of my beer as I replay Teddy’s words in my head.

I’m 29 years old and being placed in charge of the largest law firm in England.

I’ve spent many years knowing I’d one day take over as CEO of J. L. I’d never even thought about a backup because, to me, that was it. The days were long, the nights often longer, but I didn’t mind. I loved it, lived for it even.

Over the years I encountered many awful crimes, but I always knew that was part of the job. In order to help victims, I couldn’t be spared the gory details. After a while, you build up somewhat of an immunity to the crime scene pictures and witness recounts.?

I’d thought my immunity was unbreakable, until it wasn’t. The last victim had been a little girl, aged four. She’d been killed in a horrific car accident caused by her own mother, who was driving under the influence.?

The case hit too close to home. After the mother had been sentenced and justice was served, I had to take a step back. Many nights were spent lying awake, wishing I could’ve saved that innocent child. Logically, I knew there wasn’t anything I could’ve done, but it didn’t stop the thoughts.

A few weeks later, I made the decision to hang up the criminal law boots. Upon speaking with my father, he shocked me with the revelation that he was wanting to step down from his CEO duties in the coming years.?

When I queried where this had come from, he’d said, “Son, I’m not as young as I once was. I’ve dedicated most of my life so far to this company; now it’s time to dedicate the rest to your mother.”

Who was I to argue??

Flash forward a couple of weeks, and it was settled. Which brings us to here, in the shed’s bar, contemplating what the fuck I’ve signed myself up for. Although the oldest, Teddy has never been interested in the family business. While I finished college and went straight into Cambridge’s Law School, he dropped out at 16 and joined the British Army.

Taking a moment, I look at my brother— really look at him. Fifteen years on, and he’s a Military Educator training new recruits, retired— for now —from his role within the Intelligence Corp.

Rain begins to patter against the tin roof, suggesting it’s time for us to depart. The petrichor scent drifts in through the slightly agape steel door. I breathe in deeply, savouring, as a wave of calm washes over me. It always has a way of grounding me; the smell, the sound, the feeling of the droplets on your skin.

Beer bottles empty, we dispose of them before grabbing our bikes once more, locking up and returning to the car park. Thankfully, what was previously a downpour is now a mere sprinkle.?Once the bikes are safely stowed in their respective trailers, Teddy rounds the hood of my Audi, pausing in front of me. His brows knit together ever so slightly. A hand raises a fraction, before he drops it back to his side.

“You can do this, Carter. You’re a born leader. We have that in common, but I was never meant for the corporate world; you are.” Teddy takes a deep breath, and I find myself mirroring him. His face softens. “You know you’re not going to be alone through this either, right? I’ll be in your corner, as will Mother, Father and Emilia. Always”

Appreciation swells within me, stinging my eyes with gathered tears. I close the gap between us, enveloping my big brother in a tight squeeze. His body stills for a moment. A second passes before he wraps his arms around my back, returning the hug.?

Over almost as quickly as it begins, we release each other and take a small step apart. Teddy reaches out to squeeze my shoulder, something he’s done since we were young boys. A small gesture that always made us both feel grounded and safe.

“We should get out of here before this storm hits.” He gestures above us, where the clouds have darkened to an ominous shade of grey.

I nod. Teddy gives me a small smile. The familiar feeling of looking in a mirror surfaces as I return his smile. “See you Friday?”

“Considering our parents would have my head if I missed our little weekly bonding dinner, yes.” Teddy responds with a chuckle, strolling towards the driver's side of his Jeep. He gives me a salute and hops in, disappearing from sight behind the window’s tint.

I follow suit, climbing into my own vehicle as the rain begins to fall with force. Soaked to the skin, a wave of goosebumps overcome me as I make quick work of turning the car and heater on, the plush leather seats warm me from the inside out. Fervently rubbing my palms together, the goosebumps dissipate.

Raindrops splat on the windscreen as I follow Teddy down the circuit’s driveway and out to the main road. We convoy for a while before Teddy takes the exit that eventually leads him into Surrey, and I continue on to Kensington.

When I stroll into my flat, my gaze immediately falls to the luxurious six-seater black lounge that sits sunken in the lounge room. It then sweeps over to the timber dining table and its seven mostly unused chairs. The size seemed perfect at the time, but the empty spaces cause a twisting feeling deep within my stomach.

I’m hit with an uncomfortable and not uncommon thought— this place is too big for one person.

I purchased the penthouse almost five years ago now, after landing my first big role. At the time, I didn’t think I’d still be alone five years later, but time has a way of surprising you.

Walking into the kitchen to raid the fridge, I survey the place as if for the first time. Black cabinetry with gold details lines the space behind me, topped with an oversized granite benchtop. The black and gold marbled splashback is one of the reasons I love this kitchen so much.

Childhood memories of cooking with my parents and siblings are some of my favourites. I always wanted a kitchen that would allow me to recreate those memories with my own family one day. Only I didn’t realise how lonely it would be when most nights it’s just me.

Sweeping my eyes over the lounge room, they land on the fireplace I installed shortly after moving in. I love the cold, as long as I can keep warm. I couldn’t install a real fireplace, so electric was the next best thing. Snuggling up with Winnie in the ridiculously oversized lounge is one of the best ways to spend an evening when Teddy brings her over.

Although excellent company, she happens to be four years old and my niece. I love her dearly, but sometimes I think it would be nice to have someone my own age to snuggle with and keep me company.

Deciding on last night's lamb roast leftovers for tea, I pull the tray from the fridge and dish myself a plateful. My mind drifts to the conversation with Teddy as my food heats, and I wander to the bathroom to shower off the remnants of today’s race.

I’ll be in your corner.

The words had struck a chord somewhere deep inside. Although he denies it, he’s one of my biggest supporters. I may never have graduated law school if I hadn’t had him breathing down my neck to finish assignments instead of drinking myself into oblivion over them.

When I was sworn in, he was the first to crash-tackle me in congratulations, closely followed by our baby sister Emilia, much to our parents' amusement. He’s been through some hard shit—shit no one should have to go through at the age he did—but he’s never broken. Teddy continues to have the biggest heart of anyone I know, and our family is everything to him.

Turning the shower to my preferred temperature of Satan’s arsehole, I strip out of my jeans and tee. When the water is on the verge of scalding my skin, I get in.

Feeling much fresher, I pull on a pair of grey sweatpants before heading back to the kitchen. I pour myself a glass of my favourite Chateau Palmer 2016 that I stocked up on during my visit to Margaux last year, and inhale the scent deeply. Black cherry cassis aromas invade my nostrils, reminding me of the beautiful French vineyards. Contentedness washes over me. Glass in one hand and plate in the other, I make my way over to the lounge to settle in for the night.

The fireplace blazes with warmth, but I reach for the throw out of habit. Growing up, we had throw blankets on every bed and lounge; one could never own too many. The burgundy knit throw living on the arm of my lounge was unsurprisingly part of a housewarming gift from my mother.

I grab the remote off the coffee table to turn on the surround sound system, decreasing the volume until it’s just audible over the crackling of the flames. Leaning forward, I pick up my copy of Crime and Punishment lying on the table. Hitting shuffle on the remote, the southern drawl of Morgan Wallen fills my apartment.

I let out a content sigh, opening the book to find where I left off. Wine, books and country. It’s the simple things.

I awaken with a jolt. Eyes darting around the room, I take in the scene—my empty glass lies by my legs, and my plate is on the table in front of me. The throw that was over me is now discarded on the floor, along with Crime and Punishment . Morgan has long since stopped singing, and I realise I must have fallen asleep mid-chapter. Glancing at my watch, my brows raise faintly when I see it’s 3:00am.

Collecting up my mess, I turn the fireplace to sleep mode and head to the kitchen. I place the wine glass and plate in the dishwasher. Switching off the lights, I walk down the hallway towards my bedroom. The door glides over the carpet with a soft swish. The curtains are already drawn, which means I forgot to open them this morning.

Depositing the book onto my bedside table, I head into the ensuite. The double vanity with large oval backlit mirrors looms to the side, but my favourite feature sits a few steps higher than the rest of the room. A freestanding black stone tub is parallel to the floor-to-ceiling window, allowing for uninterrupted views of some of Hyde Park and Kensington Palace. Feeling slightly more awake than I’d like to be in the middle of the night, I clamber into bed. As I close my eyes, the week’s events replay behind my lids until sleep takes over.

“Are you ready for this, Son?”

The weight of my father’s hand on my shoulder reminds me to breathe. Truthfully, I feel far from ready. But is anyone ever really ready for change?

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“That’s my boy.” He gives me a small smile before turning with outstretched arms to address our executives, who are currently seated before us in the expansive boardroom of J. L. I’d do the same thing if I didn’t have context.

“I will spend the coming weeks preparing him for my departure, but I have no doubt he’s exactly what the firm needs in this next chapter,” my father continues, his hand once again resting on my shoulder. “I trust you will allow him the same respect you’ve given me and will show him some grace during this transition period.”

The claps start again, but I’m removed from the moment as images of magazine front pages and newspaper clippings flood my vision. I’m well aware that my actions and choices are the reason these exist, and I’d do it again in a heartbeat, but I can’t help but wonder—will this new chapter bring with it a fresh start? Has enough time passed that I could let this persona go in the hopes that I might be seen as more than the Oxford Street Playboy?