You're My Boss.

𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕸𝖔𝖓𝖊𝖞 𝕵𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖂𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝕭𝖚𝖄 𝕸𝖊

รɦαω

"You're such a lucky bastard," my brother tells me as we drive back from an early morning settlement negotiation.

"No," I tell him."Just a rich one."

Luck didn't just pay for having one of the best corporate lawyers in New York to defend me, money did.

Sebastian pinches his nose, "I can't believe that attorney made them settle for that little."

"That's why called him a shark," I tell my brother."He's a cold-blooded and unreasonable brute and I respect him for it. . ."

"Well I don't," he chimes in."Those people your shark attorney just tore apart were once employees of yours."

I glanced over at my younger brother, I had almost forgotten that he devoted himself to being the champion of the little guy.

"They deserved a fair settlement after the hell you put them through." He adds.

"They tried to drag my company through the mud," I snarl. "They shouldn't have walked away with a dime."

Sebastian gives me a dirty look," Is the company all you care about?" He hisses and opens the door and slips out of the car.

"Seabass," I call him by his nickname but he disappears into the city.

"Where should I drop you?" my driver asks, slowing the car.

"The same restaurant I had lunch yesterday," I tell him in a hoarse tone, my voice rough after having spent an entire day answering questions from lawyers.

"I don't where that is," he whispers in a nervous voice."I wasn't your driver, yesterday."

"Just drive downtown, and I'll tell you where to stop." I give him simple instructions.

He manages to follow them and stops off in front of the restaurant. I walk out of the car and straight to the bar inside.

"Whiskey," I snap my fingers to get the bartender's attention, ". . .neat."

He nods, pours two fingers of whiskey into a glass, and slides it to me.

"You promised me, wouldn't drink," a soft hand stops me from downing the drink.

I consider my ex-fiancée who tries to take the drink from my hand.

"I don't remember promising you that I wouldn't," I tell her.

Mallory and I may have ended our engagement years ago, but we just tell everyone that we were too busy with our careers to play wife and husband. The truth was, that Mallory never wanted to marry me. It was her grandfather's influence that made her accept my proposal in the first place. She much preferred a woman's companionship to that of a man's. And no matter how greatly I could love her, I could never change who she was.

Though she refused to admit it openly, we both understood the reality - she was waiting for her dear old gramps to kick the bucket so she could get her inheritance and be free of our sham of an engagement.

"You're going drink yourself to death," she says.

I deflect with humor, not wanting to acknowledge that might have a drinking problem."Yeah. You're right. But then you won't have to pretend you give a shit about me."

"You're truly an ill-humored jerk," she scoffs."No wonder, no one likes being around you."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

I lie back against my seat, messaging my throbbing temples. I get a headache every time I am forced to listen to the stupidity that my supposedly world-class sales team comes up with. I hated nothing more than professional incompetence.