Part of the Family

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Part of the Family Page 20

by Cristina Grenier


  Of course, she supposed she couldn’t be that upset. The diner knew that she would take almost every shift they threw her way, as long as it didn’t get into the way of her receptionist position.

  And she probably should, shouldn’t she? Just to make sure that she could pay her rent, her student loans, and have money for food for the rest of the week…

  Kayla wondered, ruefully, if there would ever be a point where she wasn’t living from paycheck to paycheck - when she could relax and enjoy her life.

  Maybe if she ever got her MD.

  She ended up taking the call, and the extra shift. Why not? A little extra money always went a long way.

  Chapter 2 - On Schedule

  Dominic woke promptly at four forty-five every morning to make sure he had time to himself before his day began. Around six, the calls would begin to pour in. By that time, he needed to be dressed, fed and ready to greet any challenge posed to him.

  It wasn’t so terrible a task. He was usually able to spend at least half an hour in his home gym before showering and getting in a good twenty minutes of meditation. Breakfast was always the same thing - a protein shake and toast over the morning paper - and by the time he was doing up his tie, he was prepared for the inevitable inquiry that followed soon thereafter.

  When he first started his business, Dominic had wondered if he would ever get any sales calls. He was selling a product that no one knew or even heard of, he had just quit his job working for an accounting firm, and he was down to the last two hundred dollars in his bank account. He had been thoroughly sure that he was losing his mind.

  Almost fifteen years later, he was lucky if he could get three or four hours of sleep between the emergency calls that came at all hours of the day and night. His products were household names and he had business centers in thirty countries across the globe.

  Everything had changed.

  But he still liked to start his days the same way.

  “Sleep well, sir?” On his way out of the apartment, he stopped to greet Brett, who had been his butler ever since it had occurred to him that it might be handy to have one. The man was wonderfully discreet, and didn’t tend to treat him like some imposing monolith that couldn’t be approached.

  “As well as I could,” the corners of his lips twitched. “Largely in part to the brandy you left me. You have good taste.”

  “I try.” Brett chuckled. “I know how fond you are of nightcaps.”

  “Right. Almost as fond as I am of sleep itself.” Dominic grabbed his keys from the gleaming marble bar that served as the centerpiece of the kitchen. “I’ll be back late tonight, so let Sophia know she doesn’t have to worry about dinner.”

  “Of course, sir. Enjoy your day.”

  Dominic thought, not for the first time, that he was lucky to have two people as reliable as Brett and Sophia working for him. They made no fuss about the strange hours they were forced to keep and were always reliable. Stephen, one of his good friends and business associates, had often argued that he might as well let Brett drive him to work - that anyone in their right mind would be enthusiastic about driving a Rolls Royce.

  He was right on that count - Dom enjoyed driving his own car far too much to ask someone else to ferry him around. He was moneyed, sure, but he wasn’t a man who liked to have everything done for him.

  Hence why he still spent so much time at his New York office. He had been told by stockholders again and again that, after all his years of work and all the major contributions he’d made to the company, he might enjoy taking his place among their number and letting younger men get their hands dirty.

  At thirty-seven, Dominic couldn’t see giving over any time soon. He liked his work, and felt better about earning his money actively instead of merely letting it roll in. That, and he didn’t know what to do with most of his free time.

  Personally, he didn’t mind knowing that people called him a workaholic behind his back. Better a workaholic that understood his company and his employees than a distant CEO ruling from on high.

  As he pulled from the parking garage into the still relatively deserted streets, Dominic was reminded of why he so adored the Big Apple. Certainly, the city that never slept had a bevy of charms. Jazz clubs, amazing restaurants, shopping for miles and a multicultural background built, in part, on every immigrant who had ever set foot on American soil - but it was times like this when he liked the city the most.

  The quiet of the morning before anyone else woke up - when there were only a few joggers out on the streets and it felt like he was by himself in the vastness of the city. Once, he had been certain that he would fail here - that he would head back to where he was from with his tail between his legs. But Dominic was proud to say that he had mastered this city, and now he all but held it in the palm of his hand. All the charity events, fancy parties, and elegant dinners meant less to him than this - being able to quietly claim the city for his own.

  He was barely a few blocks away from his apartment building when the first call of the morning came, and he picked it up on the first ring. It was Miranda, his secretary and one of the few people he was convinced woke earlier than him. Though he didn’t require her to, she usually called him before he reached the office to brief him on his schedule for the day. It made things easier for both of them; and it was little details like this that made Dominic grateful that he hadn’t looked for a secretary based on the size of her bust rather than the breadth of her skills.

  Miranda was safely into her fifties and wore the same gray pants suit every day, despite the salary he paid her, and he wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world.

  Besides, if he was really in need of a woman, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t look elsewhere. Half the women in New York all but threw themselves at him, and he took many of them up on their offers. Mind you, a fair few of them were a bit intimidated once they actually got him in the bedroom, and more still, he soon learned, were more interested in the size of his wallet than the size of choicer parts of his anatomy.

  But none of that fazed him now like it had in his younger days. Now he had learned to take what women wanted at face value, and he was perfectly fine with the idea that he might remain single for the rest of his life. Of course, his mother didn’t want to hear any of this. Every time he called her, she was always talking about some nice girl from his hometown in the Midwest who wanted to meet him. No matter how many times he told her that any woman who knew his name was interested in more than just meeting him, she continued to try to guide him to ‘true love’.

  She had the best intentions, of course. His mother had always believed in him, even when he hadn’t believed in himself. He tried to repay that loyalty with European vacations, a gorgeous custom-built house; and all the clothes she could ever wear, but Elaine West more often than not simply told him he was being ridiculous and all she wanted was for him to pay her a visit.

  Easier said than done with his busy schedule.

  Before he could forget, Dominic made a note to fly his mother up to the city for the holidays. If he couldn’t go out to her, he might as well fly her to the city for Christmas. She would enjoy that - and he would be forced to take a break from his company.

  At least, that was the plan. Where Dominic was concerned, plans that weren’t set in stone via a contract or verbal agreement tended to fall apart. He always ended up in the office for hours on end. After fifteen years, it was the place he felt most comfortable.

  When he walked into the building, everyone stood up a little straighter. The security guards greeted him as he swiped in at the front desk and made his way to the elevator bay. He was the first person in the office, but when Miranda came in with his coffee fifteen minutes later, she greeted him with a smile.

  Happy employees made a happy company - this was something Dominic felt he understood where other CEOs didn’t. Sure he could be a commanding presence, and he knew what he wanted. He tended to mow down everything in the way of a particular goal and bark at people tha
t displeased him, but he never went out of his way to short his employees. They were the foundation of his organization, and it was important that they had what they needed.

  “How’s your daughter, Miranda?” The gray-haired woman sighed, shaking her head as she handed him a thick folder that contained several accounting reports from different departments.

  “Still working on getting that gallery of hers off its feet.”

  Dominic nodded in approval. The girl was fresh out of college and convinced she could take on the world. “She’ll make it eventually. People underestimate the power of passion.”

  “Yes, well, her passion is driving me up the wall.” Miranda sighed. “She’s always on about the place, and the opening date gets pushed back further and further with every passing month.”

  “Where’s the building again?”

  “Lower East Side.” Miranda replied. “Construction company makes the place out to be a dump but I know it has good bones.”

  “I’ll have my own crew take a trip down later this week,” Dominic mused, beginning to look over the figures she’d brought. “See what they have to say on the subject.”

  Miranda immediately beamed a radiant smile. “You’re a gem, Mr. West.”

  Dominic only glanced up at her. “Just remind Olivia that she owes me an event at the venue when it opens.”

  “Of course.”

  With that, Miranda swept out of his office, a new bounce in her step. Dominic, for his part, spent the rest of the morning pouring over the accounting documents. He took several calls about upcoming inspections in a few of his larger factories and scheduled four press conferences over the next month. It occurred to him that he had a trip to Paris coming up in the next few weeks and wondered if he would be able to wrap things up in New York to the extent that he would feel comfortable leaving things to one of his underlings.

  It seemed as if there was never enough time for him to do everything. Even he, who worked best under stress, often felt himself stretched thin.

  He was on the cusp of ignoring a call that came during his lunch hour when he realized it was Stephen and picked up.

  “Don’t tell me, don’t tell me...you’re in your office.”

  At his friend’s assumption, Dominic smirked. “Not all of us like to leave for extended lunch breaks.”

  “Right, well, not all of us are demanding control-freaks either.”

  Dom rolled his eyes. “I have a right to be a control freak. It’s my goddamn company.”

  “Of course you do - I just worry about your sanity when the last time you took a vacation was when you left the womb.”

  “Very funny.” Dom snorted. “Should I apologize for being attached to my work?”

  “No, you should apologize for missing our Friday nights out for the past two months straight. It makes me feel like you don’t love me anymore, Dom.”

  When he had time, Dominic met with Stephen and a number of other New York business moguls on Friday nights for a low-key night of drinks and relaxation. Unlike many of the younger, more impulsive faces of money in New York, they didn’t buy expensive bottles of champagne for entire bars or employ the company of an entire bus full of strippers. They enjoyed their whiskey and they enjoyed discussing markets and the possibility of long days off where the weather was hot and sunny.

  Mind you, there were often women involved, just not of the ilk one would expect. On more than one occasion, Stephen brought along an absurdly attractive rocket scientist and her friends, a model, or a prima ballerina. He seemed to have a new woman on his arm every week, and every single one of them was convinced that they would be the love of his life.

  But Stephen always disappointed them - which was, of course, the cue for them to attempt to latch onto another in their number.

  “Stephen, it has nothing to do with any amount of affection I might feel for you.” Dominic returned dryly. “Things are busy here. They’re always busy around the holiday season.”

  “Which is all the more reason why you need a break.” Stephen returned, as if his reasoning was rock-solid. “A workaholic like you needs a little wind down: a little wine, women, and soul.”

  “Wine, yes. Women, no.”

  “Oh come on. When’s the last time you got laid, Dom?’

  “Two weeks ago,” the dark-haired man returned succinctly, remembering the affair with no small amount of ire. The redhead who had charmed her way into his bed had thereafter tried to order Brett and Sophia to do her bidding, which had resulted in his throwing her out of the penthouse. “Nothing to write home about.”

  “Well maybe a little woman would help stabilize things for you - provide some much needed structure in your life.”

  At that, Dominic scoffed. “Tell me you’re not lecturing me about women. You’re probably trying to get one out of your bed right now. I think I can handle my own love life, Stephen.”

  “I think if you got laid more you wouldn’t be such a goddamned grouch.”

  “Can I have my lunch now?” The man was well-intentioned, but Dominic was convinced that sometimes he called just to irk him.

  “Will you come to our Friday night out?”

  “If it gets me out of this conversation, yes.” Dominic eyed his steak longingly.

  “You’d better be there. I’ll come to your office and drag you out.”

  He knew better than to take Stephen’s threat seriously. The man would probably be too wrapped up in his latest conquest to worry much about whether or not Dom attended.

  “Good-bye, Stephen.”

  As he dug into his steak, Dom wondered, errantly, what he did have planned for Friday night. Even if he had an odd way of making his point, Stephen was right about his vacation time. Whenever he planned to take a week or so off, he always got wrapped up in company affairs, and things never worked out. He supposed there couldn’t be any real harm in going out with his peers - and, in any event, it would get Stephen off his back.

  He could only hope that the younger man didn’t have any women he was trying to foist off. Dominic was never in the mood for them, no matter how long had passed since he’d last been laid.

  To tell the truth, Dominic was very particular about the kind of woman he liked. In his position, he encountered models, actresses, heiresses, and even royalty. While he had fucked his way through his fair share of attractive women, Dominic never felt the fabled spark that so many men fell prey too. It would be more convenient for him to have a woman that understood his sexual needs and his desire for privacy rather than one hell bent on being the love of his life.

  He was too busy to woo a woman - to wine and dine her and try to convince her that she was his everything when he really felt little to nothing for her. This was, of course, something he would never tell his mother. Elaine was convinced that all he needed was the right woman to warm him up and melt his icy heart.

  But he had his company for that.

  As far as Dominic was concerned, the only thing he needed was to keep working. His firm gave him purpose - it fulfilled him. It was the testament of his life’s work. It would always take precedence over any romantic prospect he might have.

  By the time he finished his lunch, he had convinced himself to meet Stephen and the others on Friday. He would have a few drinks and a good meal, and, with a little luck, come out of the affair feeling slightly less antisocial.

  At any rate, it might stop Stephen from calling him every week and attempting to wheedle him into being his wingman.

  Chapter 3 - A Crazy Idea

  She kept the letter on her bedside table.

  Even though Makayla knew that she was only torturing herself, she liked to wake up and look at it every morning - to remind herself that she had at least made it this far. It helped to cut through the drudgery of days as the receptionist in an office where everyone looked down on her and nights that ran her ragged at the diner.

  Several times, Melody broached the subject of planning to get her to New York in time for the next semester, bu
t every time she started, Kayla would steer her towards something that was a bit easier for her to handle. When she was on her own, she did plenty of research on various methods that would get her to New York, but none of them seemed viable.

  She could pick up a third job, but she was already exhausted enough as it is. She had tried, reluctantly, inquiring to the school about financial aid packages and was hit with the prospect of more loans. There was no way she was coming out of medical school with six figures worth of loans. She would never live it down.

  There was the idea of putting her spot on hold and waiting for another year, but, somehow, Kayla felt like that would only be delaying the inevitable. She didn’t have parents who were willing to offer her financial help she was too proud to try an online fundraiser.

  Which meant that she was soon fresh out of options, and her chances of actually getting to New York seemed bleaker and bleaker with every passing week.

  To temper her mounting anxiety, Makayla came up with the grand plan of getting drunk at the first available opportunity. As she was always working, it was hard for her to find any space of time in which she wouldn’t be in danger of arriving at a job hung over. All at once, however, after a week of double shifts she had been sure would kill her, she found herself with a free Friday night. When Melody found out, she closed the gallery and bought three bottles of their favorite white wine along with enough snacks to put their waistlines in serious danger of expansion.

  Makayla’s first sip of alcohol was heaven, and, at the risk of sounding alcoholic, she was pretty sure booze was the answer to all her problems. By the time she had a nice buzz going, she wasn’t too worried about getting to Columbia. In fact, she wasn’t worried about much more than the chocolate cupcakes in front of her and the ridiculous reality show blaring from the television.

 

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