The big win
812 Words
Marcus
“Send an email to our fashion house in Chicago. I need last month’s financial report on my desk before noon.”
“Sir, I—”
I end the call before my secretary, Margaret, can finish speaking and toss my phone across the desk in frustration.
Sometimes I feel bad for taking my anger out on her.
Just never bad enough to stop doing it.
My new office sits in the heart of Soho, making me the CEO of a bloody fashion house—something I never wanted in the first place.
I was against the branch switch between Mathew and me from the very beginning, but family rules are family rules.
I just never expected them to enforce it this soon.
I loved my office back in London.
Mostly because it kept me far away from my family and the endless mental exhaustion that came with being around them.
For twenty-five years, the London branch had been ignored because it generated the least profit in the company.
Nobody cared enough to interfere with it.
Then seven years ago, I took over.
Since then, profits have increased massively every single year, and suddenly everyone in the family developed an interest in my branch.
At every family gathering, all I heard was:
Marcus should switch branches.
Marcus is needed in New York.
Marcus can revive the New York division.
As if I hadn’t spent years building London from the ground up with my own blood and sweat.
I fought against the idea every chance I got.
But when the proposal was brought before the board last year, I lost the vote.
So now I’m stuck in New York while Mathew slowly destroys everything I built in London with his terrible management skills.
A knock sounds against my office door before it suddenly swings open.
“I’ve been trying to reach you all day, but apparently answering your phone is beneath you now.”
Devin strolls in like he owns the place before dropping onto my couch without permission.
Typical.
Sometimes I genuinely wonder what I would’ve done to him if he weren’t my best friend.
Most of his life’s purpose seems to revolve around irritating me.
“Good afternoon to you too,” I mutter dryly. “Did it ever occur to you that I might actually be busy?”
“What’s got your expensive pants in a twist today?” he asks with a smirk, casually popping a grape into his mouth from the fruit basket on my table.
I’m two seconds away from wiping that smirk off his face.
“Mathew’s been doing a terrible job handling the company here,” I snap.
“Investors were starting to lose confidence because the stock prices kept dropping. I’ve spent weeks trying to clean up his mess.”
Devin raises an eyebrow.
“Well, clearly it’s working because the company’s shares are skyrocketing right now. Investors are flooding back in. It’s literally all over the business tabloids.”
He pauses dramatically before adding,
“Of course, you wouldn’t know that since you use your phone purely for decoration.”
Immediately, I grab my phone and pull up the market reports.
To my surprise, he’s right.
The stock values are climbing higher than they have in months.
Finally.
A bit of relief loosens the tension in my shoulders.
“Well,” I mutter, “that’s actually good news.”
“Told you.” Devin grins. “Which means we should celebrate tonight.”
“Nah. I have some urgent dinner function to attend at seven.”
I glance down at my watch.
A few minutes past four already.
“Can’t you cancel?” he asks with an exaggerated pout that looks ridiculous on a grown man.
“No, genius. I said urgent for a reason.”
“What’s it about?”
“No idea,” I admit, leaning back in my chair. “Chris called for a mandatory family dinner tonight. Apparently, it’s important enough for Mathew to fly back into the city.”
Devin whistles softly.
“Damn. Sounds serious.”
“I’m guessing it is.” I pick up a pen and spin it between my fingers. “Sometimes I swear Chris forgets people under sixty actually have lives.”
Devin laughs as he pushes himself off the couch.
“Well, good luck surviving the family circus.”
“I’ll need it.”
“Text me when you’re done.”
I give him a small nod.
“Thanks for stopping by.”
“Anytime, buddy.”
He throws a lazy thumbs-up over his shoulder before walking out of the office.
The second the door closes, silence settles around me again.
I glance back at the clock.
Almost five already.
With a sigh, I pull my laptop closer and dive back into work, determined to finish everything before tonight’s disaster begins.
- Writer
