The Five Brothers Next Door: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Nikki Chase

And I’d be able to oversee multi-billion-dollar projects, like exclusive resorts on private islands meant for high-value, jet-setting guests like CEOs of multi-national corporations and movie stars.

  We’re talking marinas full of the most extravagant yachts, staffers who address every single guest by name, chefs who have earned countless Michelin stars, and it goes without saying that all these properties are located in breathtaking settings.

  But as much as I want to trade this gloomy city for a tropical paradise, I can’t bring myself to accept any of those offers.

  If there’s a lesson I take away from my first business, it’s that I need to build something from the ground up myself and proudly call it my own. That way nobody can ever take it away from me. Who knows, maybe I’ll attract the A-listers to my own brand in a few years.

  I may not have as much money as I did when I started working on Foster Hotels, but I’m smarter now. I’m patient and hardworking. I can make it happen. Even if I reject their job offers, lots of important people in the industry are eager to work with me.

  That’s one of the things I realized during the conference here. I made some powerful contacts in those three days, which made me believe that this is the right city for me to start from the beginning. And that was despite me spending much of my time there on Emily instead of on work.

  Fuck. Emily. Can’t I go one day without thinking about her?

  “You are at your destination,” a robotic voice declares through the GPS speaker.

  “Shut up,” I say to no one in particular.

  I round the corner and drive into the parking lot. Even after moving to a whole different city, my mind just won’t let go of Emily.

  I keep seeing her everywhere — she’s walking down the streets, sitting at the dining tables of my favorite take-out restaurants, wandering the hallways of my own apartment building, working at the head offices of the big hotels where I hold meetings with the bigwigs. Of course it’s never really her; just random women with long blonde hair.

  I miss her. I fucking miss her.

  I probably won’t ever see her again. Even if I visit San Francisco someday, I can’t justify myself ever reaching out to her.

  My brain has made its peace with that; she’s better off without me anyway. I’ve done nothing but wreak havoc on her life from the very first night that I saw her. Not only did I kill her boyfriend, but I also deceived her.

  After a lot of thinking, I see now that what I did to her was unforgivable. I was stupid to even consider that she’d forgive me and even run away with me. Her whole life is there. It makes no fucking sense whatsoever that she’d leave everything and choose me, knowing that I’m responsible for ruining her life.

  Yes, there’s definitely no doubt in my mind that Emily is better off without me.

  Convincing my heart to forget her is a completely different matter, though. Every time she crosses my mind, it feels like there’s a boa constrictor wrapped around my chest, squeezing out all the air in my lungs to slowly kill me. I’m worried it’ll soon fool my mind into abandoning my resolve to forget about her.

  That doesn’t sound too far-fetched, considering it’s already fooling my mind into seeing Emily everywhere. I even see another Emily while circling the parking area looking for an empty spot, but it must be just another girl who happens to be wearing a red dress and has her long blonde hair curled.

  For the sake of my own mental health, I have to fucking get a grip on reality.

  After parking the car, I pull the invitation card out of my jacket pocket and check the details again as I reach the rows of elevator doors.

  InstaLux — Just Like Home, Only Better.

  Launching Party

  NGX Building, 7th floor, Suite 706

  I find the place easily enough. As soon as I step out of the elevator I can hear the din of conversations and the clinking of dinnerware, so I just follow the noise.

  The event is held in their new office space, which is a little too hipster for my taste, but I guess it works for a tech company. Their client base is probably a bunch of hipsters anyway. Who else would think it’s a good idea to stay the night in a stranger’s house?

  “Sir?” A smiling man in a white shirt and a bow tie offers me a tray of champagne glasses. I take one, thank him, and continue looking around. I was hoping to get some inspiration for my new brand, but it soon becomes clear that I’ll be going for something completely different with my new hotel.

  The whole place looks like they hired a hipster interior designer straight out of college and told him to go crazy. It’s all just one big open space, with gray polished concrete flooring and gallery-white walls covered with framed pictures of their best properties and graffiti — which they’d no doubt call murals instead.

  There are clusters of seating areas scattered all over, some of them with coffee tables and mismatched sofas, and others with huge desks made of distressed wood. Of course they also have bean bags and standing desks. Why wouldn’t they?

  “Hi, Cole,” says a man with dark olive skin and rows of blindingly white teeth.

  “Hi. Great party, huh? Good turnout.” I smile back and wonder where I’ve seen him before. He definitely looks familiar. I’ve met so many new people since moving to Seattle that I’m losing track.

  “Yeah. We worked really hard on the new interface and I think we deserve a little celebration.”

  “Congratulations on the successful launch.” I raise my glass and take a sip of champagne when I realize he must work for InstaLux.

  He studies my face and smiles. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  “Sorry.” I smile politely and shake my head. There’s no point in pretending now that he’s caught me.

  “Marco.” He points at his own chest with his thumb. “The conference two months ago? The swimming pool at Trident Hotel? Emily’s childhood friend?”

  My heart skips a beat when he mentions Emily’s name. I haven’t heard her name said out loud other than in the darkness of my own bedroom when I wake up in cold sweat from another nightmare. I quickly regain my composure. “Right. Marco. Sorry I didn’t recognize you. I’ve met too many new people since I moved here.”

  “I thought that might be the case,” he says. “It seems all of San Francisco is moving here, huh? First you, and now Emily.”

  “Emily’s here?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

  “She hasn’t told you? We hired her and she just flew in last week.” Marco grins and says, “Wait here. I’ll get her. She’ll flip out when she sees you here.”

  Before I can say anything in reply, Marco disappears into the crowd. Damn. That guy is fast.

  My heart is hammering in my chest. Suddenly the whole place seems quiet. The loud chatter of the party-goers fades away until all I can hear is my own loud, erratic heartbeats. I spin around and scan the room, trying to find Emily — the real one, this time.

  Is she really here? Or was that whole conversation also just a figment of my imagination? The last time I spoke with her, she seemed to hate me.

  She probably will flip out when she sees me, but I suspect it won’t be the good kind of flipping out.

  Emily

  I’ve been fidgeting all day. It’s a good thing I didn’t join the other girls for a manicure before the event because my fingernails would’ve been destroyed anyway from all the nail-biting.

  Even though well-dressed servers have been offering me tiny morsels of expensive food, I can’t bring myself to eat even a little bite. I did drink a glass of champagne, though. They don’t call alcohol liquid courage for nothing.

  Most people think I’m just feeling nervous about having a new job, living in a new city, or working with new people. The truth is, in the week that I’ve been here, I’ve settled quite nicely into a rhythm.

  I spent the weekdays working and having lunch with the girls from the office. During the nights and weekends, I hung out with Marco and Sally, his girlfriend. I don’t feel like a third wheel at all arou
nd them. And their friends have also given me a warm welcome.

  They even took me to the tourist attractions that they must’ve visited hundreds of times before. I saw a bird’s eye view of the city from atop the Space Needle and checked out delicate, colorful artwork at the Chihuly Garden and Glass Exhibition. I’ve gotten addicted to the food at the Pike Place Market, especially the famous clam chowder and Beecher’s cheese — I don’t even mind waiting in the long lines.

  I’m so glad Marco’s downtown apartment is within walking distance from the market. After enjoying all the conveniences living downtown, I’m definitely going to live in the area myself. I’ve checked out a few cozy studios and one-bedroom apartments, and they’re definitely affordable with my new salary.

  Marco and Sally told me to hold out for a good one, though. They say I can stay with them for as long as I need.

  I feel like I’m already a Seattleite now. I have local friends, I love the local food, and I’m even going to have my own place soon. Everything is finally falling into place for real.

  But truth be told, I keep thinking about Cole. Not long after I arrived, I heard about Cole being here as well. It’s pretty big news among the people I work with and they were all surprised I didn’t know before they told me.

  Apparently, Cole has been setting up meeting after meeting with big names in the industry, but nobody knows what he’s planning to do yet.

  Since I found out he’s here, I haven’t been able to relax. I feel like I might run into him somewhere.

  Like, I’d be checking out a new part of the city and I’d think about how much of a waste it was that I didn’t get to explore the city during the business trip. Then I’d think about the conference and how I was so focused on working and, to be honest, on Cole. And then he’d completely dominate my thoughts and I’d continuously look around to see if he’s around.

  I’m not angry at him anymore. In fact, I’m a little embarrassed when I think about my outburst the last time we spoke. But I can’t decide how to react when I inevitably see him again.

  As if he can hear my thoughts, Marco taps me on the shoulder with a big, excited grin on his face. “You’ll never guess who I just saw!”

  Oh, I bet I can, actually.

  “Who?” I feign ignorance. I haven’t told Marco or anyone else in Seattle about the history between Cole and me. It just doesn’t seem like the kind of thing to share with new friends or even an old childhood friend I’m only starting to reconnect with.

  “Come here.” Marco grabs my wrist. As we zigzag our way through the crowd, he looks back over his shoulder and yells, “He didn’t even know you were here! He’s going to be so surprised to see you.”

  I have no doubt he will.

  My heart beats faster and faster until finally, just a few feet away, I see him. He’s looking around like he’s searching for something — or someone.

  He looks as gorgeous as I remember. The dark messy hair that feels so soft when I run my fingers through it. The brown eyes that used to gaze deep into my soul. The blazer that shows off his broad shoulders. I get the inappropriate urge to slip my hand inside and feel his hard chest and abs through his shirt.

  My legs get shakier the closer I get to him, and I curse myself for choosing to wear my new pumps with the four-inch heels. It’s not easy to balance myself when my legs go weak and I’m trying to match Marco’s excited pace.

  “Here she is,” Marco declares to Cole when we’re close enough for him to hear it. “I can’t believe neither one of you knew you’re both here.”

  Cole immediately turns around and looks right at me. His body language mirrors mine. His eyes are fixed on my face, like he’s studying me. But he stands still like a statue, afraid to step forward but unwilling to move away.

  Obviously, we’re both nervous and unsure of what to do. This is probably going to be awkward.

  “Hi, Cole,” I say.

  “Hi, Emily.” His lips form a thin smile on his face, but his eyes look dull and sad, although I also detect a hint of tenderness in them. “Marco’s right. I literally just found out you work here.”

  “Yeah. I kept emailing and calling her for ideas on how to run InstaLux. When my boss noticed how often I brought up Emily’s name, he asked if she’d be interested in working here.” Marco seems oblivious to the tense atmosphere between the two of us. He says, “Then I found out she wasn’t working for you anymore, and Harry just had to hire her. He immediately called her and made her an offer she couldn’t refuse.”

  I smile at Marco’s bad Godfather joke. “Yeah. That’s exactly how it happened.”

  “As you can see, Cole, your loss is our gain.” Marco grins with pride. He’s been telling the whole office about how he’s the one who discovered me every time I come up with a good idea. It’s flattering, really, that he thinks I’m such a good find. I’m almost used to it now, but him telling Cole all about it makes me blush again like it’s my first day here.

  “I’m sure she’s going to do really well here.” Cole hasn’t taken his eyes off me. He’s looking at me like I’m one of the pieces of art hanging on the walls around us, taking in every detail with an admiring gaze.

  “Believe me, she already is. Everybody loves her,” Marco says.

  “He’s exaggerating.” I give Cole a small smile.

  “Not at all,” Marco insists. He gets distracted by someone calling his name and says, “Hey, I have to go say hi to someone. You guys have fun catching up!”

  My eyes widen as I watch Marco walk away. He’s leaving me alone with Cole? Damn, he’s so oblivious.

  “So you moved here last week?” Cole asks.

  “Yeah. And you?” I grab a tiny little tomato bruschetta from the hors d’oeuvre tray when a pretty server walks past. I’m too nervous to eat, but I need to do something with my hands.

  “I’ve been here for almost two months. I had no idea you were moving.” He looks almost hurt that I never told him.

  “It wasn’t exactly planned. I just felt like I needed a fresh start.” As soon as the words escape my lips, I realize my mistake. Cole winces. I quickly add, “And Marco was right. It was a really good offer and I needed a job.”

  “You like it here?”

  “I actually do. I had no idea you were here either until I got here. You’re creating quite a buzz. There are all kinds of speculations about why you’re here.” I have to calm down. Keep the conversation casual. I tend to talk too much when I’m nervous and I really don’t want to say the wrong thing. “How about you? You like it here?”

  “It’s nice enough,” he says. He’s being careful. Could he be worried about revealing too much to the employee of a potential competitor company? Or is he just as skittish as I am?

  “Yeah. It’s a nice city. I’m still not used to the weather, though. I can’t believe how much it rains here. It’s always so gloomy and cold. And I always forget to bring an umbrella. I’d walk out to go somewhere and only realize it when it’s too late to turn back. It feels super cold outside when my clothes are wet.” I take a bit of the tomato bruschetta to shut myself up. I’m being such a great conversationalist. Weather talk? How interesting!

  “Where do you live?”

  “Downtown.” I cover my mouth to hide any remaining bits of bruschetta and swallow quickly. I was expecting Cole to say more so I could have more time to eat, but he’s not giving me anything to go on. “I’m staying with Marco for now, but I’m looking for my own place.”

  “You’re staying with Marco?” He clenches his jaw as something flashes in his eyes. Hurt? Anger? It goes away too quickly for me to identify.

  “Yeah. He’s being really nice to me, even though I’m basically always in his space. His girlfriend doesn’t mind either. They tell me I can stay for as long as I want, but I feel like I need to move out as soon as possible.”

  “So it’s the three of you?” Cole visibly relaxes. Could he be jealous?

  “Yeah. How about you? Where do you live now?”

>   “Same. Downtown. I figure it would be more convenient for me to get to meetings.”

  “Em!” Marco yells. I turn toward him and see him pointing at someone beside him. “Come over here! You have to meet this guy!”

  I nod and smile at Marco. A part of me is relieved I can escape from this awkward encounter but, at the same time, I still want to spend more time with Cole. I smile at him and say, “Looks like I’m needed elsewhere.”

  “Yeah.” He pauses before he says, “Do you want to go somewhere after you’re done? For drinks? I know a good place.”

  Cole

  “Do you…” I pause and search her eyes for answers while I think of the best way to pose the question I’ve been meaning to ask ever since I walked out through the tall, wrought-iron gates of the Blackwood Cemetery.

  Do you hate me?

  She tilts her head, waiting for me to finish. But I can’t ask her that, not with those exact words. I’m too afraid she’d say yes.

  I drag air into my lungs and steel myself. I can do this.

  “Are you still angry at me?” I finally ask. My heart hammers in my chest while I wait for her answer.

  “No, Cole.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m not angry at you anymore. I was, though. But you probably already know that.” She laughs softly.

  She looks beautiful with the candlelight illuminating her face. Her red dress glows orange and I wonder if I really saw her in the parking lot, but it doesn’t matter. We have more important things to discuss now that I know for sure I’ve found her again.

  “Yes, you were quite clear about that.” I return her smile. A little bit of my anxiety leaves along with a big exhalation. “You were right to be angry, though. I did a horrible thing.”

  “I think…” She pauses and looks into the distance like she’s trying to find the right words. “I think I was as angry at myself as I was at you.”

  “Angry at yourself?”

  “Yeah. For the longest time, I was angry at myself. Alice told me it wasn’t my fault, but I always felt responsible for the accident myself.” She pulls the corners of her lips upward and looks across the table at me. Her blue eyes are glassy and glowing, reflecting the dance of the little candle flame. “I told Scott to drive faster. I had a bad headache. And then it happened. I blamed myself.”