Voyeur

by Christine Alvarez

  “Yeah, I do and you, my friend, need to straighten up,” he said, pouring himself his own glass.

  I gave him a wry look, but left the fact that he had just commented on my drinking habits alone. I was a dick for bringing up how big of a slut I was. I knew he probably thought he, my siblings and Jon were the only people in this building I hadn’t fucked and him being on that list wasn’t something he, nor I, liked to think about.

  “I am straight as they come,” I winked, throwing back the rest of my drink.

  “Seriously, Jackson, you are on thin ice with this company. You didn’t even mention the deal you have been working on with Hannaway Industries and for the last three months, it has been all you talked about,” he said, swiveling the ice in his own drink.

  I swallowed down the bile that I would now associate with Hannaway. This was the very subject I was looking to avoid. I began to walk the perimeter of the office that was identical to mine. We had the same dark walls and steel molding, complete with a metal desk. Each of our offices were as modern as they came. His wasn’t quite as empty as mine, with photos of himself with family, in various suits and ties shaking hands with corporate moguls, and even some pictures of us from college.

  His golf set was propped up in the corner and I couldn’t help but smile at it. I hated golf. Every time he dragged me out to Remming Golf course, I felt more gray hairs sprouting up by the second. I knew it wasn’t an old man sport, but growing up being hauled off to the damn thing with my dad and all his cronies, I couldn’t picture it as anything close to the definition of young and fun.

  “What are you keeping in that head of yours?” Rod asked, jerking me from my musings.

  “How damn boring golf is and how people think it’s a sport,” I joked, pulling a putting iron from the bag. I swung the club and watched an invisible ball sail hundreds of yards.

  “If you are just going to dance around anything of importance, I have work that needs to be dealt with. You know, shit to keep this company running,” Rod said, pouring yet another three fingers of gin.

  I crammed the club back in the bag and stared out the open window. Massive buildings cut out the perfect view of the ocean. It was still far off in the distance, but close enough that it was visible on the horizon. Before I got stuck here, I had spent many nights with a beer in hand, hanging out, alone or otherwise, on that beach.

  I sighed and turned toward my friend, toasting the air and taking the rest of my drink in one gulp. For a man who looked at my early drinking as a bad choice, he was now drinking faster than I was.

  “Look, man, I’m fine, just restless. You of all people should know that I hate being confined. Being cooped up is for chickens and tight wads. No offense,” I said, shooting him a wide grin.

  He loved this damn job and if he had enough of his own personal funds to buy my shares, I would give him this title and company in a heartbeat. I could practically feel the salty water sprinkling against my skin and the grit between my toes.

  “Mr. Middleton,” the hot-for-Rod secretary broke through my thoughts, as well as the unreadable look that had engulfed Rod’s features.

  He watched me for a few more heartbeats before blinking and turning away from his own thoughts. He sat his glass on the edge of the desk, shooting me one more glance before tapping the button on the phone.

  “Yes,” his answer was short and sweet.

  “Ms. Steele is waiting for Mr. Steele in his office,” her voice hesitant and soft.

  I rolled my eyes, the glass gin bottle mid-pour. I had instructed both our secretaries not to let any of the other Steeles into my office without my explicit okay. I should have known it wasn’t going to work.

  “Thank you,” I called from my side of the room. “Tell the wicked witch I will be right there,” I added.

  I downed the entire glass in one gulp before putting it back on the table.

  “Why does that bitch think she can just use her name to insert herself wherever the fuck she wants?” I said, feeling the burn of the dark liquid slide down my throat.

  “She isn’t that bad, and I am sure you two would be on better terms if you would stop referring to her as the wicked witch,” Rod chuckled, sitting back in his leather office chair.

  “Trust me, that is one of the nicer nicknames I have for my dear little sister,” I said, watching Rod get to work.

  I took my time, the bitch could wait. I let time slip by as I shuffled from foot to foot, watching Rod work. I was procrastinating. I wasn’t big or bad enough to say any differently if asked. Besides, watching Rod work was entertainment enough.

  He had completely drowned me out and everything else that would act as a distraction, diving head first into whatever current business merger he was given. More than likely it was the Moore merger. It was a damn fine contract that he had secured without using the Steele name.

  He bit at the inside of his mouth, lips pursed, clearly thinking about some term that didn’t sit well. Those clear eyes focused on the thin computer screen.

  I closed my eyes, wiping the small wrinkles that showed up between his thick brows out of my mind. I took a few seconds more to erase the small dimple just at the corner of his mouth.

  “Catch you after work,” I said, my eyes flying open. I didn’t wait for a response. I knew him. Once he was working, it would take a pretty big announcement to pull him from it. An announcement he would never hear.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Can you not respect my rules?” I asked without even so much as a hello or showing any sort of niceties that most grown siblings show each other.

  I stopped in the doorway when I didn’t just see my sister, but my brother as well. They both stood next to open seats and I suddenly had the feeling that this wasn’t business related, but more of an intervention.

  “Your rules are childish,” Emily sneered, her face practically upturned, those irritated green eyes looking down her nose at me.

  “Do you really think a secretary can keep us out of your office? What are you hiding up here anyways?” Amusement showed through each of Declan’s words. He never took me seriously and of all my family members, he had taken the transfer of the company to me the hardest.

  Neither of them had taken the time to read over the will they had pushed Dad to have drawn up. I voiced that exact thought during our last heart to heart, cutting our argument short.

  “I hadn’t really thought I would have to test out the request. It has been months since Dad died and neither of you have been up here.”

  I stared down both of them, hoping that they would want to argue that statement. Neither of them had requested a meeting up here or made any surprise appearances. Every time they had chosen to meet with Jon, it had been in their office or in a lower conference room.

  We stared at each other for more than a few tense seconds, my door still ajar. Every fiber of my being was screaming for me to walk back out the door. To ignore them like they had me as long as our dad had been in the ground.

  “Mom is having a family dinner this Saturday and she has requested that we all be there,” Emily finally spit out, breaking eye contact. She grabbed ahold of the chair but made no other move to sit in it.

  I ground my teeth, working out what question I wanted to ask first. Normally when mom wanted us over for dinner she just called or texted. It wasn’t such a big deal. I took a step further into my office, pulling my door shut with me.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, trying to make each word come out as casual as I could make it.

  “Everything is more than fine,” Declan answered, finally sitting himself in the chair. Emily stayed standing where she was. Her stuck up ass wouldn’t ever show any comfort around me.

  “Is it about Jon?” My jaw ached and where my mind was taking me sent throbbing pain through my skull as well.

  “It is an announcement dinner. She has invited the whole family,” Declan confirmed the idea that I had fought to disregard. I knew it was coming and yet I denied it every s
tep of the way.

  “Fuck that and fuck them,” I hadn’t necessarily meant my mother, but the woman knew my feelings concerning that bastard and hadn’t even batted an eye when he took her out for drinks less than a month after her husband of thirty years died.

  I tore past them and flung myself in my chair, my heart racing and beating at my chest. My entire body shook with rage at the thought of him being my step-anything. He was a selfish dirt bag who would fuck himself into wealth.

  “I will relay your message to Mom,” Emily said, her high, annoying voice void of any actual sympathy.

  “Do you have any other mode besides heartless bitch?” I yelled, letting some of my anger leak out with the outburst.

  “Do you have any other mode besides immature asshole?” she barked in response, barely showing any emotion in her words.

  “Will you two just fucking can it?!” Declan shot from his chair with his demand. “This is not about your feelings toward Jon or whatever the fuck has happened between the two of you,” he said, pointing at each of us. “This is about Mom and her happiness,” the last part came out in a single breath.

  I didn’t know what to say. I wanted my mother to be happy, she hasn’t been happy for years. Even before my father died, she was miserable. I knew Jon, though. I knew things he had done that she wouldn’t believe. I knew the type of man he was. I had spent many nights trying to make her understand after I caught them out on a date.

  All those words wasted. She was blinded by the smooth game he played, by the extra attention he showed her. I had given up, choosing to ignore it completely. I had been so fucking confident that he would one day show her his unforgiveable flaws and she would be done with him.

  “I know,” I heard Emily say. The room was wrapped in a red haze as I tried to process the anger at both my mother and Jon.

  I took in small breaths as I tried to focus on what Declan had said. It was about my mother’s happiness. She was over the moon in love. I had seen it in her eyes each time she spoke of him. Every time she had made it to board meetings, I tried to ignore the sideways glances and the bashful smiles that she would toss him when she thought I wasn’t looking.

  I felt like a war had broken out within myself. Both fists laid out on my desk top, I flexed my fingers open and closed.

  “Get out,” I wailed, shoving the files from my desk top.

  “This is pathetic, Jacks. You hated our father so this has nothing to do with preserving our father’s memory. What the hell is going on with you?” Declan said without making any move to actually heed my volatile warning.

  I could feel my violent rage building with each second they stood there.

  “And don’t give us that crap about how he’d rather be sucking your dick than in bed with our mother,” he said.

  His dark eyes shown with very well-controlled anger. He had always been the put together brother. The one that kept his cool in high stress situations when I was the one that would do anything to avoid them at all costs. The one that landed the first punch and ended up in jail.

  His anger, though, was at the breaking point. He wouldn’t normally let me see what he held within. Just like me, he was broken, he was just better at hiding it away. He used his wife as glue to help hold his past at bay, and then he bought a house with a white fence and used his two boys as duct tape to keep his history in the past. They were the perma-seal. To everyone other than myself, he was normal. Perfect.

  “Did you miss your annual hearing test? I said, GET. THE. FUCK. OUT!” I screamed, letting each word rip from my chest. The pain they provided was a double-edged sword, providing a ground as well as physical pain. Neither I wanted nor needed.

  Emily remained quiet, no longer focused on my outburst but at the papers that had been tossed across the room. Her eyes flashed in my direction once more. My chest hurt and my eyes blurred so I couldn’t trust what they showed me, but pain seemed to flash in her careless expression.

  “We’re leaving. For what it’s worth, I hope you make an appearance at least. You owe it to Mom,” Declan said, waving toward Emily to finally make the escape that I needed.

  As soon as the door shut and I was alone in my office, I took a deep breath. My eyelids burned and my chest felt tight. I slammed my fist onto the speaker button and waited for Rod to pick up. Nothing. I was only directed to his voicemail.

  I took in the mess I had created and let out a scream, working to rid myself of the antsy urge to pay Jon Reed a visit. A little heart to heart sounded beyond fantastic right about now. I spun around in my chair to face my bar. At this rate, I would be too drunk to conduct any sort of business.

  I thrust my hand through my hair as I poured myself another drink. I stood, once again facing the ocean. Clutching the drink hard, I sighed. Jon had been a frequent visitor to Erotica before finding out that I wouldn’t take the bait. He had tried his hardest to seduce me into owning a larger share of the company.

  The ocean called to me. Freedom tugged at my coat-tails. I wouldn’t let him have the company and I didn’t want his cons to work on my mother. She was a good woman, naive and desperate for love. The consequences in dealing with an emotionally disconnected husband. I tried to tell myself that maybe this was the real deal. It probably didn’t start out as the real deal, but maybe it changed somewhere along the line. I could only hope because aside from somehow acquiring physical proof, my word meant little to my own family.

  Dots that I could only peg as boats zoomed through the water. The sun shone high in the sky and I was stuck in an office waiting for another fucking deal to fall through. Mounds of paperwork that now littered the floors waited for me to comb through them. Sign off on small mergers, fill out bank acquisitions. I had a meeting at four with a small business looking to expand and accommodate the high-functioning world that currently passed them by.

  I spun the glass in my hand, the ice clinking loudly against the sides as I ignored its contents. I didn’t need to drink. I wouldn’t be like my father and end up at home, drunk and belligerent. Just holding the glass in my hand, thinking of the warm burn that would introduce the calm that followed, was more than I could deal with.

  A harsh ring startled me out of my internal musings. I took a moment to watch the ice melting before deciding if I really wanted to answer the phone.

  With a few long strides, I sat the glass on top of one of the many pages of a contract that I had yet to read through and grabbed the phone, ignoring the caller ID. Life only came with a few surprises anymore, might as well keep the ones you can.

  “Yes,” I barked into the phone.

  Ashlynn screened all calls. Anything less than urgent was sent to my voicemail, only giving a few people access to my line without prior approval.

  “Is that how you greet your mother?” Her question was light but her tone smacked of everything other than happy to be calling me.

  “Not now,” I said, my whole body feeling deflated. My siblings didn’t take long to tell our mom the good news. If I had to bet money it was probably my sister. That bitch liked to get a rise out of me, whether she would ever admit it or not.

  “I really want you at my dinner. You are my son, my baby, and I need you there.” Her voice was soft yet hard. It made her a brilliant businesswoman. She and Declan were alike in that manner, they were both able to fool the pants off potential business associates.

  “I really don’t want to talk about this right now. I need time. I haven’t even checked my calendar, I may have prior engagements to attend. You know, to keep this fucking company afloat,” I didn’t normally cuss at her, but I couldn’t seem to swallow down my anger.

  “You don’t, I took the liberty to make sure your calendar was clear.” There was that smug tone I knew so well slipping through each word.

  “Always the mother hen, aren’t you?” No matter how angry I was at her or Jon, she was still able to help pull out who I wanted to be.

  “So you’ll be there?” Her question was pleading. I set my sights
on the ocean and all that it had given me. I reached beyond the mass amount of buildings, the jumbo jet that climbed higher in the sky, reaching for the freedom that I’d lost.

  “I don’t know,” I sighed. “If I make it, have another place set for Rod because I am dragging his ass along,” I said.

  “We can do that. Thank you, son.” She paused, but I could feel that she wanted to say something else.

  “What is it, Mother?” I said, massaging my temple with my free hand.

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Jackson, but you are a lot like your father. You know, the parts of him that I had fallen in love with. I love you, son,” her words came slow and hesitant, fear rolling from her tone. I didn’t need to be with her to know she was biting her lip. That was what she did when she put herself in a vulnerable position.

  “Love you, too, Mom,” I chose to focus on the part about how she loved me. Being compared to my father was becoming a trend that I did not want to continue.

  **********************

  “How in the fuck did I get roped into this again?” Rod yelled from the kitchen of my apartment.

  “Look, dude, I need someone there on my side. You know what kind of douchebag Jon is. I need you there,” I said, sliding my arms into my leather jacket.

  Mom always held black tie dinners. She loved the high dollar china, trillion course dinners and the smaller than snack-sized meals. I hated it all and was done putting on fancy suits, buying stupidly expensive ties and wearing shoes that were stiff and not my style.

  “I know, dude,” he said, sticking his head out of the open bathroom door. “You know she is going to kill you when you show up wearing that,” he said, glancing up and down my extremely lax outfit. I was dressed more like I was heading to the mall vs. going to a fancy dinner.

  “Probably,” I grinned. No matter how badly that woman wanted me at her little announcement dinner, she wouldn’t pass up a chance to give me grief on my choice of attire.