Defended & Desired
Page 6
Adam needed a physical challenge. Trey was giving him that.
“Not here.” Trey motioned across the room to the square café table with four high-backed chairs beside the pool table.
Removing his suit jacket on the way, he tossed it on the back of one chair. He propped his elbow on the table, positioning his arm at a forty-five degree angle. Adam clasped his hand.
The ridiculous battle began. Trey held firm instead of accelerating his strength when Adam’s bicep bulged. They were well matched, Trey’s height and strength competing against Adam’s weight-lifter physique and aggression. However, Trey held one advantage. The key to winning an arm-wrestling match wasn’t brute force but persistence. Although Adam had stubbornness down to a science, he lacked the patience.
After two minutes, they were still dead even at the center of the table. Adam glared at him. “I should kick your ass for sending me and Liam to that stupid class.”
“It’s good for business.”
“Making me die of boredom is an asset?”
“I consider that an improvement.”
Adam’s nostrils flared. “The leader went into all kinds of touchy-feely garbage. How to bring out the best in your employees,” he said in a mocking voice. “Identifying your B.S.F.U. personality traits.”
Liam interpreted Adam’s acronym aloud. “Bull Shit Fuck You. I like it.”
“D.I.S.C. is a highly respected management tool.” Trey tightened his jaw. “Better than being on the streets risking your L.I.F.E.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’d rather rip my fingernails out with rusty pliers than do that crap for an entire week. Or make a living at it.”
A surge of power went through Trey’s forearm, angling Adam’s hand downward. “Tell me you learned something, so I can say the ten grand was worth it.”
Adam scoffed. “You’re an idiot. I could’ve gone to a Vegas whorehouse and learned more about business smarts, team work, and how to handle people’s personality differences. At least I would’ve gotten laid.”
Trey spoke through clenched teeth. “That was the only professional development seminar that didn’t require books or reading and writing.”
“I haven’t sat behind a desk since high school. There’s a reason I dropped out at fifteen,” Adam warned.
“I know.” Trey channeled his frustration with Adam into overcoming his cousin’s resistance. Their locked hands swayed back and forth over the table’s centerline.
“Then what the hell am I doing here, Trey?” Angry red streaks crested Adam’s cheeks. “I’ve never worked in a damn office building. I don’t care about this place. I don’t want to be here.”
“I know that, too,” Trey muttered. “But this is where you are. Get used to it.”
“Don’t think so.”
“You’ll find your place.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Maybe not today.” Trey ended the match by slamming the back of Adam’s hand onto the hard surface of the table.
Adam leaped off the chair and cursed, massaging his knuckles. “You’re a dick.”
“Devon gets her money.”
He glared at Trey. “This isn’t over.”
“We’ll talk later.”
Stone-faced and silent, Adam stalked out of the conference room. Sorens were notoriously bad losers. Their Viking blood refused to tolerate failure.
Trey nodded at Liam. “Go do some damage control.”
“You got it.” Liam followed after his brother.
The two brothers were tight, closer than Adam and Trey had ever been, or ever would be, for a lot of reasons. Although Trey was only six months older than Adam, they were worlds apart in personality and attitude. Trey needed calm and balance and consistent planning to stay grounded, unlike Adam who thrived in conflict and aggression and chaos. Adam had used those things as outlets to ignore the deeper issues that stemmed from his struggle since childhood with dyslexia.
The death of Adam and Liam’s father when they were in their teens had cemented Adam’s heart in a block of concrete. Trey, instead, took his own father’s more recent death five years ago as a catalyst for change.
Adam didn’t buy into change as a positive thing. In fact, his idea of settling into a new city was befriending the local motorcycle gangs. Not the type of people Trey wanted associated with their new aboveboard reputation. Adam had deep ties and attachments to the old way of doing things. He’d fought Trey on this move from the start, as though if he accepted this new business he was betraying the legacy of his father and their family’s bounty hunter roots.
Regardless of their personal differences, Trey believed Adam would eventually settle in and discover his niche at the company—kicking and screaming all the way, but he would find it. They weren’t going back to their old lives. The sooner Adam accepted that fact, the better off they’d all be.
Within two hours, the whole building seemed to know what went down in the conference room. Isaac and his fifth-floor sales team already started a bidding war on who’d win the next match. Not exactly the morale-boosting, team-building exercises Trey had envisioned for his company. Though the win earned him a few hearty slaps on the back from his managers. No doubt they wanted their proposals passed, too.
Employees he recognized but never spoke to directly started coming up to him in the hall or cafeteria, smiling or making small talk. As the gossip mill continued churning all afternoon, he noticed the incident had suddenly made him more approachable, something he’d tried to prompt in the past, but never achieved to the extent he’d wanted.
Meanwhile, Adam stewed and sulked behind his closed office door. Trey wondered if he’d heard about the attention their stunt received. He didn’t want this to be about who won or lost. Somehow, he had to explain that to his hot-headed cousin.
At the end of the day, Trey knocked on Adam’s door. After the third knock, he tried the handle. The door was unlocked. He walked in to find the office empty. The disappearing act didn’t bode well for future dealings when he needed his cousin on his side. Adam was family, and Trey genuinely wanted his cousin to do well and build a good life here. It would devastate Trey if Adam picked up, headed back to Las Vegas, and rejoined the treacherous underworld that would eventually get him killed.
Early the next morning, Trey looked up from his desk to see Devon breezing through his doorway.
“Not here.” Trey motioned across the room to the square café table with four high-backed chairs beside the pool table.
Removing his suit jacket on the way, he tossed it on the back of one chair. He propped his elbow on the table, positioning his arm at a forty-five degree angle. Adam clasped his hand.
The ridiculous battle began. Trey held firm instead of accelerating his strength when Adam’s bicep bulged. They were well matched, Trey’s height and strength competing against Adam’s weight-lifter physique and aggression. However, Trey held one advantage. The key to winning an arm-wrestling match wasn’t brute force but persistence. Although Adam had stubbornness down to a science, he lacked the patience.
After two minutes, they were still dead even at the center of the table. Adam glared at him. “I should kick your ass for sending me and Liam to that stupid class.”
“It’s good for business.”
“Making me die of boredom is an asset?”
“I consider that an improvement.”
Adam’s nostrils flared. “The leader went into all kinds of touchy-feely garbage. How to bring out the best in your employees,” he said in a mocking voice. “Identifying your B.S.F.U. personality traits.”
Liam interpreted Adam’s acronym aloud. “Bull Shit Fuck You. I like it.”
“D.I.S.C. is a highly respected management tool.” Trey tightened his jaw. “Better than being on the streets risking your L.I.F.E.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’d rather rip my fingernails out with rusty pliers than do that crap for an entire week. Or make a living at it.”
A surge of power went through Trey’s forearm, angling Adam’s hand downward. “Tell me you learned something, so I can say the ten grand was worth it.”
Adam scoffed. “You’re an idiot. I could’ve gone to a Vegas whorehouse and learned more about business smarts, team work, and how to handle people’s personality differences. At least I would’ve gotten laid.”
Trey spoke through clenched teeth. “That was the only professional development seminar that didn’t require books or reading and writing.”
“I haven’t sat behind a desk since high school. There’s a reason I dropped out at fifteen,” Adam warned.
“I know.” Trey channeled his frustration with Adam into overcoming his cousin’s resistance. Their locked hands swayed back and forth over the table’s centerline.
“Then what the hell am I doing here, Trey?” Angry red streaks crested Adam’s cheeks. “I’ve never worked in a damn office building. I don’t care about this place. I don’t want to be here.”
“I know that, too,” Trey muttered. “But this is where you are. Get used to it.”
“Don’t think so.”
“You’ll find your place.”
“Not going to happen.”
“Maybe not today.” Trey ended the match by slamming the back of Adam’s hand onto the hard surface of the table.
Adam leaped off the chair and cursed, massaging his knuckles. “You’re a dick.”
“Devon gets her money.”
He glared at Trey. “This isn’t over.”
“We’ll talk later.”
Stone-faced and silent, Adam stalked out of the conference room. Sorens were notoriously bad losers. Their Viking blood refused to tolerate failure.
Trey nodded at Liam. “Go do some damage control.”
“You got it.” Liam followed after his brother.
The two brothers were tight, closer than Adam and Trey had ever been, or ever would be, for a lot of reasons. Although Trey was only six months older than Adam, they were worlds apart in personality and attitude. Trey needed calm and balance and consistent planning to stay grounded, unlike Adam who thrived in conflict and aggression and chaos. Adam had used those things as outlets to ignore the deeper issues that stemmed from his struggle since childhood with dyslexia.
The death of Adam and Liam’s father when they were in their teens had cemented Adam’s heart in a block of concrete. Trey, instead, took his own father’s more recent death five years ago as a catalyst for change.
Adam didn’t buy into change as a positive thing. In fact, his idea of settling into a new city was befriending the local motorcycle gangs. Not the type of people Trey wanted associated with their new aboveboard reputation. Adam had deep ties and attachments to the old way of doing things. He’d fought Trey on this move from the start, as though if he accepted this new business he was betraying the legacy of his father and their family’s bounty hunter roots.
Regardless of their personal differences, Trey believed Adam would eventually settle in and discover his niche at the company—kicking and screaming all the way, but he would find it. They weren’t going back to their old lives. The sooner Adam accepted that fact, the better off they’d all be.
Within two hours, the whole building seemed to know what went down in the conference room. Isaac and his fifth-floor sales team already started a bidding war on who’d win the next match. Not exactly the morale-boosting, team-building exercises Trey had envisioned for his company. Though the win earned him a few hearty slaps on the back from his managers. No doubt they wanted their proposals passed, too.
Employees he recognized but never spoke to directly started coming up to him in the hall or cafeteria, smiling or making small talk. As the gossip mill continued churning all afternoon, he noticed the incident had suddenly made him more approachable, something he’d tried to prompt in the past, but never achieved to the extent he’d wanted.
Meanwhile, Adam stewed and sulked behind his closed office door. Trey wondered if he’d heard about the attention their stunt received. He didn’t want this to be about who won or lost. Somehow, he had to explain that to his hot-headed cousin.
At the end of the day, Trey knocked on Adam’s door. After the third knock, he tried the handle. The door was unlocked. He walked in to find the office empty. The disappearing act didn’t bode well for future dealings when he needed his cousin on his side. Adam was family, and Trey genuinely wanted his cousin to do well and build a good life here. It would devastate Trey if Adam picked up, headed back to Las Vegas, and rejoined the treacherous underworld that would eventually get him killed.
Early the next morning, Trey looked up from his desk to see Devon breezing through his doorway.
