Kade

Yeah, this wasn’t a good idea. I should have stretched. Regardless of my aching legs, I push myself to run at full speed. An unfortunate jogger shrieks when she doesn’t hear us calling in time. I almost clip her shoulder and glare at Nolen for not giving me room to maneuver. He doesn’t care, pushing his legs harder to get ahead of me. Pushing through the pain, I race ahead of him, grinning until he catches up. He smirks devilishly in my peripheral vision. Oh, how I want to flip him off, but my body is too busy focusing on running for my fingers to function.

“You’re breathing pretty hard over there,” he says, not nearly as winded as I am. “Getting tired already?”

“I’m keeping up, aren’t I?”

“Because I’m letting you.”

“You sure like to talk big. Why don’t you back it up for once?” I bite my tongue when he races ahead of me. My trembling thighs refuse to grant me the speed I need to catch up. No doubt to piss me off further, Nolen jogs in place, allowing me to catch up only to run ahead again.

“Damn it,” I hiss under my breath, glaring after his amazing—ass—figure that disappeared around the corner. Regardless of how far ahead he is, I will not back down. I’m finishing this race even if my legs snap off and I crawl the rest of the way.

Luckily for my pride, I reach the end on my legs, although rather wobbly and on the verge of a terrible cramp. Nolen waits by a bench, practically challenging me to take a seat. He breathes a little heavier than earlier, though it pales compared to my long heaves. I walk up to the very spot we started to declare the race officially finished and avoid even looking at the bench that is beckoning me to take a rest. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

“That’s one win for you and one for me,” he states proudly. I’d be thinking about how he looks pretty good with his hair ruffled and sweat trickling down his chiseled jaw, but I’m too preoccupied with handling my breathing. And that’d be totally inappropriate.

“Since we… since we chose to run because you had the upper hand here.” I rest my hands on my hips, taking a final breath to compose myself. “The last game should be one neither of us is good at. This will be difficult to choose as I excel at a great deal of things.”

“Running definitely isn’t one of them.”

“My stamina keeps up where it really counts.” I smirk until I catch Nolen’s dark gaze, thus reminding me who I’m speaking to. Grabbing the water bottle attached to my hip, I chug the rest of the beverage and declare, “I suck at video games. What about you?”

“Absolutely horrendous.”

“Really? Tell me more. I like hearing you admit your weaknesses out loud.”

Nolen rolls his eyes and checks his watch. Who wears watches anymore?

“I don’t have time for more shenanigans,” he claims.

“Says the man who began the shenanigans.”

He ignores me. “There must be an arcade somewhere nearby. Will that work?”

“Sounds good enough to me, but do you run this spot regularly?”

“A few times a week when I’m able. Why? Do you want to get beaten again so badly?”

I step closer, getting in his face to declare, “Give me a month and I’ll outrun you.”

“A whole month?” He gazes at me, that same challenge in his dark eyes that I discover aren’t so dark around his pupils. There’s a soft brown, almost caramel in color.

“Realistically, maybe two weeks, but I thought I’d humor you.”

Nolen chuckles, the first genuine sign of joy he has ever given. It’s a deep sound that rumbles in the back of his throat. “Then I guess I’ll humor you by pretending to be intimidated.”

His phone buzzes in his back pocket. “We can decide where to compete later. I have to take this.”

He answers the phone and walks away without another word. It isn’t until he’s pulling his fancy car out of the lot that I realize;

a.) I’ve set myself up to regularly run because I’m a stubborn dumb ass
b.) I still didn’t give him his money
c.) I never learned why he was working as a server and
d.) I don’t have a way to contact him.

Wouldn’t it be weird to send the CEO an email about meeting up at an arcade to see who sucks less at games? Whatever, at least I know I’m not out of a job, and now that he’s gone, I can fall on the bench. Fuck, I really should have stretched.

*

Nolen

Pulling out of the parking lot, I connect my phone to the dashboard. Louis, a close friend from college and my personal secretary of almost a decade, speaks over the line. He sounds far more irritated than when he speaks publicly. He’d never dare sound anything other than apathetic at work. If people heard him outside of work, they’d think he had been possessed.

“Mason had another fucking meeting with a handful of douchebag higher ups. I vote for you to fire them,” Louis says.

“Mason is always having another meeting with anyone he can get his grubby hands on. I’d have to fire at least half of our staff,” I argue, feeling a Mason specific headache coming on. They’re sudden and painful that no medication can battle. “Why are you calling to inform me about this particular venture? We could talk later when we meet up.”

“Best if we don’t talk about this in public because one of those douchebags was actually a bloodsucking board member; Kenneth Wrentley.”

My stomach drops. “Why would Kenneth be speaking with him?”

“That is the million dollar question. Actually, it’s a billion dollar question if Mason gets the board members on his side. Apparently, Kenneth’s daughter being engaged to you doesn’t prevent him from being a backstabbing bitch.”

“Apparently.” My jaw aches for more reasons than one; Mason’s endless battles, Kenneth’s possible betrayal, and the mention of my engagement. “Don’t tell Sadie about this.”

Louis actually laughs, then goes quiet when he realizes; “Oh shit, you’re serious. Why not? A few words from her and Kenneth is likely to treat Mason like the shit stain that he is.”

“And imagine the drama that would start. Sadie shouldn’t know, for the safety of all our sanities, and if her father wants to support Mason’s laughable claims that I’m undeserving of my position because of archaic rules, then let him.”

“Whatever, Boss, but don’t be surprised if she learns about this on her own and remember that I’m always fucking right because I warned you.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sadie may learn the truth. She may not. I can hope she steers clear of my nonsensical family drama, and maybe Kenneth will come to his senses. I’ll hope he has a conscience to know that throwing me from my position will affect his daughter, too. Then again, maybe that’s what Kenneth wants, to throw us both off our game so he can toss her to another pawn for a new venture to fuck over. I wouldn’t put it past him. I wouldn’t put it past any of our parents. Regardless of our parents’ questionable ethics, I can’t imagine what Kenneth wants to talk to Mason about. He has never been on the fence about my position at the company, although that likely always had to do with how close Sadie and I have been since high school.

“Do you know what Mason discussed with them?” I ask, tapping my finger against the wheel.

“I’m afraid my spying skills are not leveled up to that caliber. I heard of the meeting, but there was no one there that we know to overhear their discussions. If I had to guess, Mason’s probably kissing the unwashed asses of a few department managers. In exchange for them to cause trouble for you, of course. They were very displeased with their lackluster raise last year.”

“What have they done to deserve a raise at all? We can’t run a company where half the money goes to paying a bunch of vexatious old jerks incapable of distinguishing the difference between our own products.”

Louis chuckles. “You won’t hear me arguing. However, if enough of the company sides with Mason, the board members may actually find an excuse, or make one up, to boot your ass. Even your father can’t save you if that happens.”

“If the company exiles me to raise Mason up, then what happens after is on them.”

“Do you think Mason could do it, run the company?”

“Of course. He has the skills, but he is…”

“A shit stain?”

“He lacks a lot of social skills, and that is a lot coming from me, so I imagine the staff turn over rate will double, if not triple.” I pull into the parking lot at the restaurant where an evening meeting is being held. “Are any of those higher ups going to be at the meeting today?”

“Yes, three of them.” Louis lists off their names before we hang up. I grab my phone, hesitating to step out of the car. An ache has formed at the back of my neck, reaching into my skull like a frigid hand, refusing to give a moment of reprieve. I’ve never understood this frivolous infighting, especially as a kid. I never imagined my step mother would hate me so fervently. That she would fill her nine-year-old son’s head with ridiculous tales about his evil older brother stealing everything from him. While I never expected that hatred to change, a part of me hoped Mason would cease this incessant battling. That maybe one day we could be friends, brothers even.