THREE

Ronan

I lean my head back against the mirrored wall of the elevator with a sigh. Boy, I'm glad this day is over. It's hard work sounding upbeat and inspirational when I've got no fucking clue how I'm going to turn things around and fix the host of problems with this network.

Truth is, I'm not sure they're fixable.

Maybe television networks are relics of the past and nothing I can do will resurrect this lifeless corpse.

It's not all bad. I saw the writing on the wall years ago and diversified my investments. Only, I can't bear to let go of the company my father founded all those years ago. The company he left me 49 percent shares to in his will. It doesn't feel right.

Too bad the other major shareholders on the board of directors are all major pains in my ass. Telling me to improve my public profile and raise the profile of the company.

I scoff. Like anyone wants to know more about me. My life is more boring than they could ever imagine.

"Tell me there's nothing else on the schedule today," I mutter to myself, opening my phone.

I almost groan out loud when my calendar pops up with a reminder I'm supposed to go and have dinner with my mother.

I can't face it tonight. It's not that I don't want to see her. I do. If I could see her from the other side of a soundproof glass wall. Talking with her is painful these days. All she seems to do is worry about my health and I don't need someone else doing that, as well. That or she'll hassle me about setting me up with a nice monster. If she had her way, I'd be married and breeding already.

I compose a message while I'm waiting for my car outside the building.

Ronan: working late. Let's make it next week

Of course, I feel like an asshole. I am an asshole canceling on my own mother via text message. I scowl out the window all the way back to my apartment.

Instead of pouring myself a double shot of whiskey like I want to when I get home, I swap my suit for sweats and head into the gym. A six-mile run pushes me more than I'd like in thirty minutes. By the time I stop, I'm sweating and breathing hard.

I tear off my shirt and use it to mop my brow between my horns.

I don't get enough time to exercise these days. I don't get enough time to do anything except work.

I don't like the way my chest feels tight and sore, but I brush it off and step into the shower. My hooves ring on the tiles while the lukewarm water sluices away the rest of the frustration from this afternoon's talk.

None of them got it. I saw them all there looking back at me with glassy eyes. Sometimes I think there's not a single thought to rub together between them all.

All except Justine, my junior assistant. She's the only one who seemed to listen.

When I'm cool, I turn up the heat, lather up, and wash off.

Can't even be bothered to jerk off to whatever comes up on my Pornlib-suggested vids on the wall mounted touchscreen in the shower.

What a sorry state of affairs.

I'm toweling off when an email pops up.

Westside Medical

Dear Mr. Kernos,

The results of your blood test and echocardiogram have been returned to the practice. Please make an appointment at your next convenience to discuss them with your doctor.

I frown. I hate the way they do this. Why not simply put the results in the email? I don't want to go sit in an office with a sympathetic doctor who will try to break the bad news to me gently. It's awkward. Having to deal with other people's worry is awkward.

I wish I didn't know there's a chance I have a genetic heart condition.

I sure as hell wish I hadn't found out the way I did.

With a sigh, I flick open a message to Asha.

Ronan: clear me some time for a medical appointment this week, would you? If I send you through the notice, can you book it for me?

I set aside my phone, then pull a frozen meal from the freezer because I gave my personal chef, Anna, the night off. Then a notification makes me check it.

Asha: I can certainly do that when I get back from leave. Or I'll have Justine do it for you tomorrow

I frown. I don't want the whole world knowing about my medical worries. Especially not the junior assistant who was snooping through my computer today. It can wait until Asha gets back. Another week won't hurt.

Ronan: no. Just do it when you get back. Thanks

Asha: will do. Hope everything is OK.

I snort. Sure. Everything's fine. I might keel over at any time without warning, just like my father. No need to burden her with it, though.

I don't bother with a response. It's not like Asha to push.

I toss aside my phone and try to concentrate on reading the summary Ms. Delany prepared for me today. When I can't do that, I give up and get into bed early. Sometimes I don't know why I'm so worried about dying early. Not like I do much with my life anyway.

Ms. Delany looks disarmingly disheveled when the car stops to collect her from the address she has on file. She stifles a huge yawn and almost drops the bundle of files she's carrying.

I hide my laugh as she climbs into the car beside me.

"Good morning."

"Morning." Another little yawn. She shifts the papers about on her lap, trying to stuff the loose ones into folders.

"I take it you're not a morning person, Ms. Delany."

She looks around at me with wide eyes. "Oh, ah, sorry. Did I miss something already? I'm sorry. I'm really not."

I snort. "You're not going to be much good to me if you're not on your toes this morning. This isn't going to be an easy meeting."

"It isn't?" She looks crestfallen.

Can't blame her. I'm not looking forward to it, either. "No. They've called an additional meeting this month, which means they're annoyed about something. Most likely the way the share price and dividends have dropped month on month for the last six months, as you'll see in those documents."

"Hmm." Her mouth presses into a flat line and she looks down at the pile in her lap.

I tap on the divider and call out to my driver, "Make a stop on Chester Street, Harvey. Seems like we're going to need some coffee." Perhaps I can rescue this situation yet.

Seems unlikely, though.