Chance Read online

  "Caleb would never hurt me," he says grimly. "I think he thought I was on something."

  It's not a preposterous conclusion to jump to. Both Caleb and Gabriel have held their breath the past few months hoping that Asher wouldn't fall back into his addiction. He's fought against it, and even though Asher has confided in me that Gabriel is proud of him, Caleb hasn't offered his reassurance that he believes his younger brother is on the right track. I know it pains Asher. He's told me as much.

  "It doesn't matter what Caleb thinks." I pull on the hem of my dress, wishing I had taken the extra three minutes I needed to pick out another outfit before I raced to work. "You're not taking anything."

  "I'm tempted," he admits quietly. "There's way too much temptation here."

  I can't respond in any way other than honestly. My only vice is a glass of wine now and again and the occasional pair of expensive shoes. I've never felt drawn to try any illicit drugs. It's not because I've never been curious. It's simply because I'm too focused on my work and my goals. I don't do distractions.

  "In New York, you mean?" I ask.

  "This is one of the worst places for someone like me," he chuckles. "I go to meetings every day. I'm there sometimes two or three times a day but the draw is right there. It's always right there."

  I nod. I may not understand the physical need to indulge, but I know what it feels like to crave something or someone. I've felt intense longings in my life but they've always been about men that were wrong for me. That's not comparable to what Asher feels, but it's the only experience I have to draw from.

  "Can I help?" I ask even though I know that I can't. I've offered time and time again but although Asher and I may be close friends, our worlds beyond that don't collide.

  "I think I'm going to take off for a few weeks." He gestures towards the large window in my office. "I've been thinking about going to see my mom."

  Giana Foster had fled New York for the sanctity of her childhood home in Brussels after her divorce. Roman, her husband, had found not only opportunity and fortune in his business but a bevy of beautiful, young models willing to do almost anything to land the coveted spot of a place in the print campaign for the family's female fashion brand, Arilia. They'd named their first boutique after Giana's mother and now, twenty-five years later, they'd nurtured that brand along with the men's fashion line, Berdine, into a billion dollar business.

  "Really?" I can't contain my surprise. "I think that's a great idea."

  "Caleb fired me yesterday," He shakes his head in mock disbelief. "That means I'm going to have a lot of extra time on my hands. A trip to Brussels would be good."

  I know he's likely right but I also know that Caleb wasn't serious when he fired him. "Caleb probably didn't mean it. I mean, I doubt that you're actually fired."

  "I work there because I'm a Foster." He waves his hands in the air. "Don't get me wrong. I like the job. I'm good at it, but it's sucking the life out of me."

  It's the first time I've heard him audibly express what I've been wondering for months. "You don't like your job?"

  "Honestly." He tips his chin towards me. "I do it because my parents want to me to do it. I do it because it's their legacy. I don't even wear our clothes."

  I laugh at the admission. "I don't either."

  "I like that about you." He chuckles. "Remember when Caleb told you to go into the store on West 57th Street and pick anything you wanted? You never showed up."

  I remember that day vividly. It was right before I started at Corteck. I was panicked because my work wardrobe consisted of the navy blue suit I'd worn to countless interviews, two white blouses, a pair of black slacks and a worn red pencil skirt. When I'd told Caleb I landed the job he first lectured me on the merits of working for him before he insisted I visit one of the Arilia stores to choose a new wardrobe as a graduation gift from the Fosters for me. I hadn't. I'd worn the few items I had to the office until I received my first paycheck and then I went to an outlet mall in New Jersey to buy dozens of items that were all discounted heavily. Caleb had been both livid, and mildly impressed, with my determination to get the most out of every dollar I earned.

  "He's always tried to take care of you." Asher's lip slide into a smile. "You know he cares about your opinion more than anyone else's."

  I've thought that at times. It's mainly been when Caleb's shown up at my office in the middle of the day with a scowl on his face and a desperate need to be reassured that he'd made the right decision about a new location or because he'd changed suppliers and was doubting himself. It's happened with women too. I was the first person he saw after Vena dumped him. He'd arrived at my apartment, completely unexpectedly with beer and pizza and a broken look in his eyes.

  "If that were true, he wouldn't have had you arrested," I stop to raise my hand. I know Asher and I know that he's about to argue his brother's side of the story on his behalf. "It went too far. A year or two ago he never would have done that."

  "A year or two ago he was in control of everything." He clenches the wooden arms of the chair in his hands. "He's losing control and it's scaring the shit out of him."

  Chapter 11

  I think I have my act together. I'm never late on my rent or credit card payments. I tuck money into my retirement fund every month and I go see the dentist twice a year to have my teeth cleaned. I don't have a desire to control anything other than my own life. I know it's different for Caleb. It's always been different for him. I've never known him as someone who sits back idly while the world makes choices for him. He takes the bull by the horns and steers it in the direction he wants to go. He's in control of every aspect of not only his own life, but also the lives of the people around him.

  "Caleb is a control freak," I spit the words out through a wide smile. "Remember that puppy that Miles and I had when we were kids. Caleb was the one who taught it all those tricks. He's always been in control of everyone and everything."

  Asher tugs on the collar of his dress shirt. "He wants to control everyone and everything. He may have been able to do that at one time, but it's not that way anymore. You know that Gabriel hired someone to oversee the European division, right?"

  I don't talk business that often with any of the Foster brothers. I pride myself on having a sound business mind, but I have no logical grasp on what it takes to run a clothing conglomerate. Gabriel has always viewed me as the young neighbor girl who followed in his footsteps and went to college to get a business degree. I was actually following in my father's footsteps and when his own plumbing company fell victim to the recession, I had to adjust my focus, which is how I ended up at Corteck.

  "I didn't know that," I answer honestly. "Caleb didn’t tell me."

  "It's pissing Caleb off." He sucks in a quick breath. "He had a trip to London planned. He thinks he can run everything from his office here but he can't. Gabriel went behind his back to set up our team in Europe."

  That partially explains Celeb's attitude lately. He's been harsh, frustrated and preoccupied. I assumed it was because of someone he was seeing. I had no idea that there was that much friction between him and Gabriel.

  "He must have been livid." I try not to break a smile. "I'm a little surprised that he didn't call me to complain about it all."

  He cocks a dark brow. "I'm surprised too. You're his best friend."

  At one point, a year or two ago, I would have taken great comfort in hearing Asher say those words. I've volleyed back and forth between wanting Caleb as a platonic friend to wanting much more with him. I'm not sure if I've ever been in love with him because the only man I know I've loved is Tom and those feelings were so jumbled with resentment over his addiction that they became a hazy mess. I've avoided diving back into anything serious because of that.

  "I'm not his best friend," I insist softly. "My best friend wouldn't do some of the shit that he does."

  He throws his head back in laughter. "Caleb's let his success go to his head. I don't dispute that but he's still the same guy
you've always known."

  "He's not." I hesitate before I continue, "I'm not even sure I want him as a friend anymore. He had you arrested, Asher. You're his brother. You've already been through so much."

  "I'm an addict." He leans forward to pull both of my hands into his. "My addictions terrify him. He panicked. He did the only thing he thought would help."

  "He was wrong." I look down at my lap. "He knows he was wrong. That's why he made me promise to still be his friend before he told me what happened."

  "You're the only constant in my brother's life." His voice is gruff. "You've always been there for him. He needs that. He needs you now more than ever."

  ***

  "You're not working from home today?" I tap my hand lightly on his shoulder.

  "Please be wearing that hot little red dress you had on earlier," he says smugly. "Red is my new favorite color."

  I try not to grin as he pivots on his heel to look at me. His eyes settle on the neckline of the dress. It's not low cut but it definitely accentuates the limited cleavage that I do have. "I didn't have time to go home to change, Caleb."

  "I want you to wear that dress every time you come here to see me." He gestures around the empty boardroom we're standing in. "I have a meeting in ten. What's up?"

  I stare at his handsome face. There isn't a remnant of the pain that flashed over his expression earlier when he was in my office and I was berating him over how much he's changed. It's always like that with the two of us. We forgive and forget. We always have. "I want to talk about Asher."

  His rubs his index finger over his lips. "What about him?"

  "You fired him." I sigh heavily. "Why did you fire him?"

  He swallows hard before he answers. "He can't work here if he's in jail or in rehab."

  "He's not using anything." I glare at him. "He was upset about something. He feels badly about what he did."

  This is the point in the conversation when Caleb should admit that he feels badly about what he did too, namely having his brother arrested. That would involve him swallowing his pride and declaring he was wrong too. Unless hell has frozen over since I walked into this office tower, it's never going to happen.

  "You trust him too much, Rowan." His eyes drop to my legs. "You put too much faith in Asher."

  "I'm not going to apologize for being his friend." I struggle to not point out that he doesn't put enough faith in his younger brother. "I believe in him."

  "You shouldn't." He brushes past me to rest his tablet on the long, rectangular table. "You can't depend on people like him."

  I push out a heavy breath at the underlying inference in his words. "What does that mean?"

  His gaze is soft as he studies my face. "God, you're beautiful. You're so beautiful and trusting. I don't want you to get hurt. It kills me when you get hurt."

  I stare at his lips as he closes them slowly. "Asher isn't going to hurt me. You don't understand our friendship. You don't know what he means to me."

  "Tell me then." His hand jumps to my waist. "Tell me exactly what my younger brother means to you."

  Chapter 12

  I work to level my breathing as look into Caleb's eyes. His fingers are sliding softly over the fabric of my dress. I want to explain in pointed detail why he needs to get over what happened yesterday so he can see the potential that Asher has but I can't find those words. "We're friends."

  "Yes, Rowan." His breath floats over my cheek as he leans down. "We've established that you and Asher are friends. You and I are friends too but it's different with you and him."

  "Different?" I ask before I lick my bottom lip. I feel as though I haven't had anything to drink in days.

  "Different," he repeats. "As in not the same."

  I nod. "It is different."

  I see something flash across his expression but it's too fleeting to place. "How is it different?"

  "He's trying," I begin before I smooth my hand over my hair. It's falling from the bun I pushed it into this morning. I didn't take a minute to look at myself in the mirror before I left Corteck. I'd made Asher promise me that he'd let me know before he jetted off to see his mother. Once I said goodbye to him, I'd grabbed my purse and had walked the three blocks to Caleb's office to confront him.

  His assistant had pointed me towards the boardroom when I arrived and before I had time to form a plan of action in my head, I was standing behind him, tapping him on the shoulder.

  "What's he trying to do?" His lips hover close to mine. "Tell me what he's trying to do."

  I close my eyes briefly hoping it will offer me enough of an escape that I can find my composure again. It doesn't work. My heart is racing just as fast once I open them to see Caleb's face. "He's trying to be a good person."

  "A good person?" he parrots back. "Asher doesn't know the first thing about being a good person."

  I narrow my gaze. "He does. You don't."

  He can't control the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. "You don't think I'm a good person?"

  It's a loaded question. I don't doubt that Caleb has the capacity to be kind and giving. I know that he does. Those parts of him have just become buried beneath his drive to prove that he's the best at what he does, both in his professional and personal lives. "You've changed."

  "You're wrong. I haven't changed. The people around me have changed."

  I don't fall into the radius of the people he's referring to. I know that I don't. I've heard him tell me too often that I'm still the same girl he remembers from when he was a kid. He's talking about his brothers. "You mean Asher and Gabriel?"

  "Money changes people." He glances towards the conference table. "Once you give people a taste of it, they can't control their need to have it."

  If I didn't know better I'd swear he's talking about himself more than either of his brothers. "I don't have a lot so I don't know."

  "You're fortunate." He leans back far enough that I finally feel as though I can breathe. "You can trust your brother. I don't have that luxury anymore."

  There's a pain woven into the words that can't be ignored. "They're still your brothers, Caleb. They'll always be your brothers."

  "They are my brothers." He nods as his eyes dart to the door I just walked through. "They're also ruthless, Row. You need to watch yourself around them. They'll use you to get to me."

  It's a callous remark meant to intimidate me. "Not everything is about you. My friendship with Asher has nothing to do with you."

  "It has everything to do with me." He leans so far forward that his lips flutter against the side of my ear. "He told me yesterday when they were handcuffing him that if push comes to shove, you'll choose him over me."

  The words resonate the same way they did when we were children and the brothers were picking teams for basketball at the park. We're not doing a schoolyard pick for teams anymore. We're adults and as I watch Caleb raise his arm to summon in a group of his employees into the room I can't help but wonder whether Asher is right. If I had to take sides, I doubt that I'd be standing next to Caleb when the dust finally settled.

  Chapter 13

  "Which one have you slept with?" Ivy's hand races over the screen of my laptop. "Was it this one?"

  I stare at where she's firmly planted her finger over the image of Gabriel's face on the Foster Enterprises website. "No, that's Gabriel. He's the oldest. I've never even thought about him that way."

  "He's totally my type," she whispers as her eyes dart around the crowded diner we're sitting in. "Don't tell my husband I said that."

  I laugh out loud. "I won't tell Jax a thing."

  "It has to be this one then." She slides her finger over the screen towards Asher's picture. "He's more your type."

  "I haven't slept with any of them." I reach to grab the edge of the laptop's screen. I'm not even sure why I brought up the Foster brothers when I agreed to meet Ivy for a coffee after work.

  "You're talking technicalities." She gently pushes my hand away. "Do you want to sleep with this o
ne?"

  "No." I shake my head from side-to-side. "That's Asher. He's definitely not my type. He's my pal."

  "You have a pal that looks like that?" She cocks a perfectly sculpted blonde brow. "None of my pals look like that."

  I pull my hand over my mouth as I try to stifle a raucous laugh.

  "It's the one in the middle then." She nods towards the screen. "Caleb. Caleb Foster."

  I pick up the now cool mug of coffee that I'd ordered when we first arrived. I'd listened patiently for twenty minutes while Ivy told me about a custom designed engagement ring she'd been working on all day. I admired the pictures of the piece on her phone and had asked, out of genuine curiosity¸ about the man who ordered the ring.

  As soon as she asked me about my day, I'd launched into a disjointed accounting of my time with both Asher and Caleb. She wanted a visual, so I showed her the brothers' profile images on their site.

  "It's that one, right?" she pushes. "He's gorgeous. You've known him how long?"

  "I can't remember a time when I didn't know him." I shrug as I place the mug back on the table. "We lived next door to his family when I was growing up."

  "So he's like a brother?"

  "No," I shake my head fervently. "It's never been like that. We've just been friends."

  "Do you want to be more than friends with him?"

  My best friend in middle school and a friend in college both asked me the very same question. I've always fallen back on the same answer I'm going to give Ivy now. "I used to have a crush on him but that passed."