Fake It List

Twenty Six

Chris pushed away from his desk and went to his mini-fridge for a soda. He didn't mind hanging around the office late. It was quieter, easier to focus. Easier not to think about Reysha out on a date. Supposedly. He stopped by the window, opened his soda, and took a sip before staring out at the parking lot. It was mostly empty. Other than the janitor, no one else was in the building. On Saturday nights, they had their remote dj take over.

Walking over to his desk, he loosened his tie and pulled it over his head, tossing it on the couch. He sat down, putting his soda away from the files, and looked at the information in front of him. The station was doing well. They'd tripled their ad revenue with this promotion alone. He was pissed his dad had cut the publishing company out before Chris had a chance to see what he could do, but that left more money for the other subsidiaries. Marco Media Entertainment, which still housed the station, the digital software firm, an ad agency, and a cybersecurity company, could be one of his father's key players.

He'd recently compiled a list of all his father's companies so he could start thinking about what came next for him—bringing it all together.

His father had always held a varied portfolio, wanting a little piece of all the pies the world had to offer. Chris had several ideas of how an increase in communication between those companies would improve profit. He wanted to stop letting go of underperforming corporations. If his father would just take a damn breath between buying and selling, Chris had a strong feeling they could launch his father's name into the Fortune 500 sphere.

Before he returned to New York, his immediate goal was to shore up the three remaining subsidiaries connected to the station. He'd just finished drafting an email to each of their management teams requesting a meeting. They needed to work together, combine their efforts, and utilize the current success of the station. Chris wanted to touch base with Wesley, his tech-obsessed brother, about the idea of merging the cybersecurity firm with the digital software. If he could successfully amalgamate these, he hoped he could do something similar with his father's other holdings.

Chris was just about to open up his laptop when a familiar voice spoke from the doorway.

"Is your job always this boring?"

Chris's head snapped up. His brother Noah leaned against the doorjamb, a goofy grin—one that probably matched Chris's—on his face. Chris shoved back from the desk, and they met in the middle of the room and embraced, patting each other on the back, laughing through their Hey, mans and hellos.

When he pulled back, Chris looked Noah over. God, he'd missed his brother. They talked and texted constantly, but it wasn't the same. Unlike Chris, Noah enjoyed the whole millionaire playboy gig. Wearing designer jeans and a button-up, his hair was expertly styled—something he'd perfected by hogging the bathroom starting at age fifteen—and though there were creases around his dark eyes, he was aging well. Noah was the carefree one. Wesley was the introverted genius. Chris wasn't sure what he was in the group. Maybe he'd figure it out when he was finally where he was supposed to be.

Noah clapped him on the back. "You look like shit. Like you've been here way too many hours staring at a bunch of boring papers. You ever leave this place?" Noah wandered over to the desk to finger through said papers.

Chris rolled his shoulders, loosening the knots in his neck. Between the kickboxing class and being hunched over the desk, he was stiffer than he'd been in a long time. Maybe it's time to get out of the office, then. Stop avoiding life so you don't have to think about Reysha with other men. He grabbed another soda and tossed it to Noah, who stood there grinning.

"I missed you," Noah said, popping the tab on the drink and tipping it back.

"Missed you, too. What happened to calling when you were coming?"