1. Ellery

Ellery

“What the hell is this?” my father asked from behind me.

I turned to look at the phone he was holding. “Looks to be a photo of me,” I said.

Examining it further, it looked to be a photo of me with Veronica. It was fairly blurry, but it was obvious where my hands were headed.

“Not a very good one either,” I commented. “Totally missed my good side.”

My father slammed his phone down, probably shattering the screen. “Is this a joke to you?”

His face was nothing like mine. I’d always been told I looked like my mother, and I was happy for it. His face was red, and it usually was when we were talking. His cheeks were round and his brown hair now gray.

“What’s the big deal? We’re both adults?” And Veronica was more of a friend than anything. Just one I hooked up with on occasion, usually after we’d had too much to drink.

“The big deal is Rick is our lawyer, someone we don’t want to upset. You were supposed to be there to meet our contacts, not fool around with his daughter.”

He’d be really pissed if he knew I’d fooled around with more than one of them, but I’d save that tidbit for myself.

“I’m sorry, okay? But you sent me to that lame banquet, and we decided to leave for the afterparty early.”

I wasn’t sure why he still sent me to those things. I wasn’t any good at it. Samuel or Arthur would have been much better suited to go, but apparently they were busy with other obligations.

Which didn’t feel like my problem.

I didn’t want to be a part of the family business to begin with. Sure, the money was nice, but I wasn’t cut out for this. Meetings and schedules were never something I had an easy time adhering to, especially not when it was something I had no interest in doing.

Before this, I let my whims take me where they may. I acted in my teens, then had a brief stint with modeling in my early twenties. Somewhere in between, I even toured with a band, though I was mostly there for my looks. But when I decided I didn’t want to model anymore, my parents told me I couldn’t just do nothing, so I decided to start working for Corecords, the family business.

They specialized in client facing consulting, so the entire place ran on meetings. My existence was only for show most of the time. I wasn’t given priority clients or anything important.

It was fair, though. I couldn’t remember meetings, despite my assistant’s constant reminders, and I missed important deadlines, even though I had them marked on my calendar because I could never properly estimate how long something would take me.

It didn’t matter, though. They all knew I was this way, which was why I was here, essentially shuffling papers from one desk to another, only attending events no one else could. Plus, I was way more charismatic than all of them. Not to mention attractive.

There were worse curses, I supposed.

The room shook as my father’s fist came down hard on the desk. “I’m done playing games with you, boy. You're twenty eight years old. This was cute when you were in college, but it’s the real world now. You need to get your shit together.”

I scoffed. I didn’t need to have my shit together. I was the youngest, meaning I had no expectation to take over the company, that was left to Arthur. My only expectation was to get married to someone of a similar status one day, and Samuel was newly married, so I had a few more years before the magnifying glass for that was truly on me. I was enjoying my life and all the benefits that came with it.

“That’s it. You’re going to the Baker’s charity ball next week.”

I stood. “Samuel was supposed to go to that,” I said. “And the Bakers' parties are always the worst.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “You’re going now. I need you to go to a single event and act like an adult. Show face for your family. Your time traipsing around as a model is over. You work for the family, you represent this family. And if you don’t start doing a proper job of it, you will be cut off. No more expensive trips, no more credit cards, no more penthouse. I will throw you out on your ass.”

“Fine, whatever.”

He stormed from my office, slamming the door so hard the frames shook on the walls.

I threw my feet up on my desk and grabbed the puzzle cube sitting there. I shuffled it around before beginning to set it right again.

My father couldn’t be serious. He’d stomped in my office and yelled at me before–often actually, but something about this felt different. Though I didn’t like bending to his will, I did enjoy my life, and had no plans on changing it.

Someone knocked on my door and I sighed, recognizing the light tap of my secretary. I wasn’t in the mood for visitors, but I was still technically at work.

“Come in,” I said.

My secretary stepped in, shuffling his suit in the process. “Mr. Scott is here to speak with you," he said.

He meant one of my brothers. “Which one?”

“Samuel, sir.”

Of course he was. “Let him in.”

He disappeared with a nod, and a few moments later, my brother stepped into the door. He had a smile, accentuated with dimples I swore had been there since he got married over the summer.

The man never had anything to smile about, and then he got married and he was all smiles and bright eyes. It made me sick.

“Hey, Em,” he said. “How’s it going?”

“I’m sure you know how it’s going.” He came in here every time I got reamed by our father.

“Seems like last night was going well. You interested in the Parker girl?”

I crinkled my nose. “No.” Veronica was nice, but we would never work. Neither of us wanted to settle down, nor did our personalities mesh well.

He plopped down in the chair in front of my desk. “You seemed to be pretty interested in her in those photos.” He said it casually, but something in his tone rubbed me the wrong way.

“I can assure you, I’m not.”

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“What? Just spit it out.”

“I’m trying to help you,” he said. “Dad isn’t messing around about this. I heard him talking to the accountant this morning. He’s really going to cut you off if you don’t stop acting like this. Maybe settling down with her will get him off your back.”

My eyes stayed focused on the cube. I had two sides done. The pattern was repetitive and familiar, one I could get lost in.

“I get it, okay? I’ll figure it out. How’s Rachel?”

At the mere mention of her name, he got all doe eyed. “Amazing. We’re talking about adopting a dog.”

“That would be nice.” Though he annoyed me, Samuel was the only person other than my mother who actually gave a shit about me. And while it was gross to see him in love, I was happy for him.

“Thanks for the heads up,” I told him. “I’ll figure something out.”

He nodded, standing to take his leave. “And maybe in the meantime, try to cause a bit less trouble.”

“No promises,” I said with a smirk.

“I did hear you got me out of the Baker’s annual shit show. Thanks for that. Rachel and I were dreading it, so I’m going to surprise her and take her away to London for the weekend.”

I rolled my eyes, finishing the third side of the cube. All the blues falling into place. “Don’t have to rub it in,” I said.

“It could be fun,” he said sarcastically.

“Last year everyone got food poisoning. Why do people keep coming?”

“Because the Bakers may not know how to throw a party, but they do know how to run a very successful private equity firm, which keeps people coming. Including us.”

The fourth side of the cube came together, leaving only the one edge. I flicked the top around, then the bottom. The light clicking of the plastic always soothed me. The rhythmic beat it created centered me.

As a child, I’d always enjoyed the easy way of putting these together. When we were young, I used to follow my brothers around everywhere. Especially Arthur. He wasn’t always a fan of having his little brother tail him, but had to put up with it or get the wrath of our mother. Who was objectively scarier than our father.

To get me off of his back, he would jumble up a puzzle cube then give it to me to solve. I would spend hours turning it with no solution in sight. I would get one side done, and instantly scramble it trying to accomplish the other. It felt like I could never get the full picture. But still I worked at it for hours.

Later, I learned the pattern to complete it and got very good at them. I had larger ones, ones that were different shaped. There was a collection at my house now. The pattern was soothing, and something about it kept my focus in long meetings, or even just while sitting on the couch watching something. The little plastic clicking sound was satisfying, and though solving one was fairly straightforward, it still felt as if I’d accomplished something by the time it was all back in line.

“Whatever. I’ll go,” I said.

“You’ll go and you’ll make nice. You’ll show up on time, talk to who you should, go home alone.”

I was sure one of these days my eyes would stick to the back of my head.

“Please take this seriously,” he pleaded. “I don’t want there to be any issues. Especially with the family holiday coming up.”

Of course that was what he gave a shit about. Sam had always been the mediator in the family, and now with Rachel, he wanted everyone to be perfect all the time. I couldn’t understand why it mattered. If she gave a shit about him, what his family was doing shouldn’t matter. It must have been nice to have that kind of companionship, though I had no interest in seeking it out.

I’d dated a bit in the past, but never kept anything serious.

“Fine, fine,” I said. “I’ll be a good boy.”

“That’s what I like to hear. I need to run, but tell me all about it later.”

He hopped up and was out the door. I continued the final few turns of the cube, glaring out the window. I supposed I could behave for one night. I was an adult. I just preferred to have a little fun, and I didn’t see what was wrong with that.

Another soft knock from my assistant. “Yes?” I called.

He peaked his head in. “Mr. Jeffers is on the phone. You haven’t shown up for your ten o’clock.”

I checked my clock. Ten fifteen.

“Fuck, thanks,” I said.

I clicked the final side in place, finished the cube, and logged in.