WEAK Part Three: A Thornhill Road Romance

by Drew Sinclair

  He thought about it for a moment and then slid his hand in between my legs making me jump at first but then squeeze my thighs tight around his fingers.

  "I guess we would just have to call it all off in that case, right?" He pressed his fingers into me, making me squeeze the accelerator hard.

  "That's enough Vincent. I want to be able to speak to my parents with my panties still on and my brain uncluttered by a bucket load of sex-hormones."

  He probably would have ignored me except that we were already pulling into my parents place. We parked next to the vehicle of one of the full-time carers I had hired to look after them when I wasn't around.

  Vincent got out of the car and walked around to open the door for me.

  "Don’t you think that's overdoing it a bit?" I smiled.

  "Not for you baby. This is a big night, I need to be on my best behavior."

  "If this depends on your good behavior then we're screwed already."

  I got out of the car and took his hand.

  "Vincent, actually honey, would you mind waiting out here for a couple of minutes? You know with my mom not well and my dad the way he is…"

  "No problem baby. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe we should arrange to meet them somewhere else."

  I leaned in and kissed him.

  "You're not backing out of this now." I told him. "Get in the car and wait." I patted his ass and watched him return to the passenger seat. We had been together for six months already but still I wanted to jump his bones every time I laid eyes on him.

  I straightened myself up and headed inside.

  Chad, the overnight carer, met me in the hallway.

  "Victoria, I'm glad you're here, I was just about to call you."

  "Is everything okay?"

  "Your father is very upset about something but he won't tell me what it is. He got a call from someone about a half hour ago and he's very anxious about it."

  "Where is he?"

  Chad led me into the living room. My father was sitting on the couch. He looked more frail every time I saw him. His wife's illness and his own deteriorating ability to remember fact and detail was taking a huge toll on him.

  "Daddy, what is it what's wrong?"

  "Where have you been honey? You normally don't get in so late, I was worried about you."

  I sat down and put my arm around him.

  "Is that what this is about daddy?"

  He looked at me with confusion in his eyes. He had always been so strong when I was a little girl and his sudden decline was something I was still struggling to accept.

  "I'll try to make it home earlier in future daddy, but tonight is special, I've got someone here to meet you."

  "Someone to meet me?" He looked scared.

  "It's okay, it’s just Vincent, my boyfriend." He looked relieved. "Actually, about him being my boyfriend--"

  "I'm so sorry baby." He interrupted me.

  "That's okay, Vincent and I are--"

  "I should have told you before."

  I stopped and looked into his eyes. They looked so tired, so sorry. Something was wrong.

  "What is this about daddy?"

  "It's about your sister. I should have told you. Mom and I should have told you."

  I put my hand on his and shook my head. It was painful to think that he was so confused he could imagine I had another sibling. I had been an only child my entire life.

  "You have a twin sister Vicky. We had to give her up when you were both just a year old and we decided to cut off all contact… to make things easier. When she didn’t contact us after her eighteenth birthday we thought we might never hear from her again…but now she's made contact with us."

  I started to breathe heavily. I didn’t need this right now.

  "She never knew she had a twin sister. Neither did you. Not until now. I'm so sorry honey."

  I didn't need this at all.

  THE END (for now)

  Thank you for taking time to read Part Three of the WEAK Series. If you enjoyed it, please consider telling your friends or posting a short review. Word of mouth is an author’s best friend and your kind words are much appreciated.

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  Sample Chapters: Scandalous

  Scandalous Billionaires Volume One

  Chapter One

  "This looks like an intervention." Jason Demovic said drily. He wasn't smiling and neither was anybody else. His mother had asked him to come by the family home for a private talk but instead he found himself confronted by Rodney Smyth, the Demovic corporation CFO, Ernst Pitchford, the family lawyer and his two brothers, Zach and Harrison.

  Jason wasn't the type of person to back down; something all these people knew very well.

  The atmosphere was tense.

  In looks he was very alike his two brothers. All three were Mediterranean in skin tone, hair and eye color, but tall, angular and Scandinavian in their build. All three were strikingly, impossibly good looking by any standards and a picture of the three brothers together at a function or a night spot was pure gold to the local celebrity media.

  At just twenty-nine years of age Jason was the eldest of the three.

  "As nobody here seems to want to speak, let me begin." He said. "What exactly is this all about?"

  An uncomfortable silence reigned for five long seconds.

  "Jason," his mother said in a frail voice, "we all appreciate that what you are doing is good. Good for the world, good for the individual charities involved and in many ways good for the Demovic Corporation as well."

  "I agree. So why are we here?"

  CFO Rodney Smyth interjected.

  "You've given away nearly 10% of Demovic in the last six months alone Jason. This can't go on."

  "The current net worth of the Demovic family remains at over 75 billion dollars." He replied with a cold economy of expression. "There's plenty more we can give away before anyone has to cut back on the champagne."

  Zach, the middle brother of the Demovic family and its technical genius, weighed in.

  "I think we're all aware of the numbers here Jason, so that's not the issue and neither is the champagne, but if you continue to donate like this then there won't be anything left to give. If we want to maintain the philanthropic tradition of our family then it needs to be done at a sustainable rate."

  "I understand that Zach, and you don't need to worry. I know exactly what I'm doing." His face betrayed no emotion but his steely gaze spoke volumes. It was a gaze that inspired loyalty in some, fear in others, but obedience in everyone.

  Nearly everyone.

  Today he was speaking to his inner circle; his fierce independence of spirit and natural leadership was matched by almost everyone he could see. It was the reason his mother had invited them; not only was he looking at the entire board of directors of the Demovic corporation, but if anyone in his world was able to stand up to him, then they were sitting right in front of him.

  Harrison, the youngest of the three brothers, spoke up. If the impulsiveness of youth had long ago left the two older brothers, Harrison still held an edge of fieriness that his mother and older brothers hoped would soon soften with age.

  "We all get it Jason, we all miss dad--"

  "You? Miss dad?" Jason said accusingly. Harrison hesitated, looking briefly away from his older brother before continuing.

  "We all respect the tradition of giving, but this is just crazy. Give it all away and then what happens? We're just as poor as the people we're trying to help. That's no good to anybody."

  "Every donation is tax deductible. Charity is good for business." Jason said, refusing to give an inch.

  "Don't patronize us Jay." Zach said. "We all know that, but 10% of Demovic in just six months? It's financial suicide. Speculation in the media that something is wrong at the heart of Demovic Inc is rife and sooner or later it's going to affect business."

  Jason held up his hands and the group w
ent silent, waiting for him to speak as he looked each of them in the eye, slowly, one by one.

  "I'm acting CEO of Demovic Corporation." He said. "Now unless there's something else to discuss, I have somewhere I need to be."

  He stood up to go.

  "Sit down Jay." Zach said. The tension in the air was near unbearable. The Demovic family was not accustomed to internal strife in business matters since the passing of Mr. Demovic senior. Normally they spoke as one voice, guided by Jason's acknowledged razor sharp business sense.

  That guidance had been accepted without resentment or question until his seemingly endless spree of philanthropy threatened to bankrupt the corporation.

  Jason gave Zach a long, cold look before he sat down. Like all of them, he was used to giving orders, not taking them.

  "This better be good." he with quiet intensity.

  Their mother spoke quickly, hoping to defuse the situation.

  "It is good Jason. Good for everyone. We have come together today simply to discuss how much money Demovic Inc. should give away in philanthropic contributions in any given financial quarter, that's all."

  "I've already decided how much that should be." Jason said.

  "Jason Demovic does not equal Demovic Inc," Harrison said with evident irritation, "no matter what you think."

  Jason looked at him, his expression giving nothing away.

  "Of course I don't think that, but this specific decision is mine and mine alone, just as our father said it should be and as the board, including everyone here agreed upon. Now if you'll excuse me--"

  "If you won't discuss this with us then we will have no choice but to ask you to stand down as CEO." Zach said. Jason was motionless for a moment. The two brothers had fought many times as children but never as grown men. They had always been equally matched and neither feared the other.

  The room held its breath as Jason looked to Ernst Pitchford, the family lawyer. He didn't need to say a word to the tough old legal shark.

  "It can be done." Ernst assured him.

  Jason looked around the room again. If Ernst said it was true then it was true. No one in the world knew the Demovic family legal affairs like Ernst Pitchford. He had been defending the family's interests since the brothers were in diapers.

  Jason took a long deep breath and then looked at Zach.

  "Give me a proposal and I'll think it over. Now if you all will please excuse me--"

  "There's one more thing." Zach said.

  Jason waited, his face still betraying no emotion but his family knew him well; he was surely enraged at this challenge to his authority.

  "Well?" he said.

  As confident and strong willed as Zach was, the words stuck in his throat. It fell to their mother and her 49% interest in the Demovic Corporation as a whole, to save the moment. Her voice was frail but her power in the corporation was formidable.

  "We'd like you to consider getting some help son." She said softly.

  "I already have all the help I need. My team is excellent, the best in the world."

  "That's not the kind of help we mean."

  Even the human barracuda Ernst held his breath in anticipation.

  "Exactly what kind of help are you talking about mother?"

  She reached into a small pocket in her pleated skirt and put a card on the table.

  "This person comes highly recommended."

  Jason Demovic read the details from where he sat. He didn't deign to pick the card up. It was the name and contact details of a psychological counselor in Manhattan.

  He looked back into the eyes of his family and then to Ernst who returned his gaze with all the steel he could muster. The lawyer was capable of staring down a high court judge without flinching an eyebrow but his heart skipped a beat as he nodded his head to assure Jason Demovic Jnr. of the binding nature of what his family was 'suggesting' to him.

  Jason stared defiantly around the room again. The board of directors held its breath…

  Chapter Two

  One Month Later

  "Mr. Demovic will be about ten minutes late." The smooth, feminine voice informed Dr. Melissa Price. "Please wait for him." She started to thank the caller but the line went dead.

  She sat back in her leather bound chair, realizing that she now had twenty minutes of free time to kill. She decided to call her little sister. She liked to check in with her frequently, even if only for the briefest of exchanges.

  "Hey Suzy, how are you feeling today?"

  "I'm doing great." Her sister tried to sound enthusiastic, but her voice was listless. "Just a little tired. You know how it is. Sometimes the dialysis is like that. I'll be better in a few hours."

  Melissa knew that the treatments had been taking more out of her sister each time. She needed to get that kidney donation fast but they had been waiting for years. Melissa would have donated herself but her blood type was incompatible.

  "If you need anything at all, just call me."

  "I'm fine, now come on, leave me alone, you've got work to do."

  "Actually I'm free for--" The call ended without even a goodbye. "--the next twenty minutes." Her voice trailed off. The shortness bothered her but she knew that even a phone call could be exhausting to Suzy on some days so she held her peace and put the phone down. Her eyes wandered to the degrees and certificates on her office wall. Her graduate degree was from Harvard and her doctorate from Stanford. She had attended both colleges on scholarships and graduated in the 97th percentile. Although an outstanding student she had not been in practice long and was still trying to build up her business. From struggling to study and pay bills with evening work, now she finally had the letters after her name but less money than ever since you can't be a psychotherapist and a waitress at the same time.

  This made her current situation with the ethics committee even more galling. One tiny mistake, one human error after years of study.

  It didn’t seem fair. It was a beginners mistake and she prayed they would see it like that too.

  Just hang in there. She kept telling herself. We've been through worse times than this, the light is there at the end of the tunnel. Just a little longer now. We can beat this.

  If her little sister was stoical about her illness, Melissa herself always put on a brave face about the medical bills, but in reality she was almost to the point of paying interest only on their accumulated medical debts. She never said a word of this to Suzy and never would as long as she could keep on paying the bills.

  The ethics committee would have to clear her and the business would have to be a runaway success because there was no other option.

  Just hang in there.

  She took a small mirror out of her bag to check her appearance. Her auburn hair was pulled back tightly into a neat, if not particularly attractive bun, but it made her look older and more professional which was the desired effect. Her spectacles were serious rather than fashionable and tended to make her look older; something else she needed with her youthful face. The glasses also made her face look thinner. Although petite she often thought she was a little too rounded. With college, work, looking after her sister and now setting up a psychotherapy practice as well, she had never had the time to worry about getting into better shape.

  Needless to say dating had been out of the question since forever.

  She heard the door in the reception area open and sat up straight. Her receptionist Sandy was behind schedule today so she would have to meet and greet by herself unless that was him arriving already. She had left the door open to allow her first client to come into the waiting area.

  She stood up and went to her office door but it opened abruptly after a short, heavy knock before she could get to it. The man who entered the room was unbelievably good-looking, even to Melissa; with all her worries and pre-occupations it took a lot for her to notice attractiveness in the opposite sex.

  "Where's Dr. Price?" The well dressed man said gruffly.

  Someone needs manners. She thought.
<
br />   "I'm here to see Dr. Price." He added.

  "Mr. Demovic?" She asked.

  "Jason." He said, softening slightly. "Look, I'm already late. Are you Dr. Price?"

  Melissa held out her hand.

  "Dr. Melissa Price. It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Demovic. Won't you take a seat?"

  "Pleasure." He said, and took her hand, sending a sharp jolt of electricity crackling through Melissa's body. She jerked her hand away and a hint of a smile came to his face.

  "You need to get that carpet changed. Too much static." He said. To her complete surprise a vivid image of herself making love on the carpet to the mouth watering man in front of her flashed through Melissa's mind.

  Come on Melissa. She berated herself. You’re a trained psychotherapist, not a schoolgirl.

  She smiled and indicated her analysis area to him to one side of her office, where there was a coffee table an armchair and a couch.

  "Mr. Demovic, would you like to take a seat?"

  He nodded and began to cross the room. Melissa followed behind him, watching his tall, muscular frame move in front of her. She couldn't help but notice that he was superbly healthy, radiating strength and athleticism. The suit he wore looked like a thin veneer of civilization on a man who was obviously a primal and instinctual being. Most of her few clients were older, or had the appearance of age. They were fatigued, anxious, worn down by their troubles, but not this tall, straight and self-assured man. He was downright hot and Melissa was feeling the heat.

  He sat down on the couch and she took a seat next to him in the armchair.

  "Make yourself comfortable." She said. "This is your hour, so I suggest we get started before anymore time is wasted."

  "I'm all for that." He said. "I don’t want to waste any time at all with you Dr. Price."

  What did that mean?

  Before we fuck. The words crossed Melissa's mind like a voice from a stranger in her head. She sat up straight in the armchair, taken off guard by her own reactions. She had been attracted to clients before but never quite like this. If she had felt things before it was after a period of getting to know the person, gaining insight into who they were and building a relationship of sympathy and trust. No one had ever walked into her office before and made her just want to...