Fort Brothers

0016 — Edmund

I propped myself against the doorway and watched Margaret go through her ritual around Bryan.

She wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm, pumped it up, and studied the digital readout. Then came the soft snap of the pulse oximeter on his finger.

“Hope you’re not staring at the new CNA like that.” She flipped the chart page and clicked her pen sharply.

“I’m just reminding you—professional boundaries exist for a reason. For their safety. And yours. Be careful. Eyes can wander. Hearts can fall. And the Lord sees everything.”

I kept my face carefully neutral, arms folded across my chest like a shield. Inside, though, the old restlessness stirred. Margret knows me too well. Better than I’d like.

"I didn't have time to choose the nurse," she continued, "If I had, I would've picked an older woman. Grey hair. Wrinkles. someone who looked just like me."

Margaret had been in the house longer than most of the furniture. I remembered her at ten. Maybe younger. Back then she was just Margaret — clipboard under her arm, moving through the halls like a nurse making rounds on two patients she never discharged. Bryan and me. Reckless, ungrateful, and somehow still alive because of her patience.

“You’re quiet, Eddie." She snapped Bryan’s chart shut and turned. Gold rims down on her nose. Eyes up. "Quiet means you’re watching her. Stop. She’s here to chart vitals, not dodge your stare. Bryan gets her full attention. Not the leftovers after you’re done undressing her with your eyes."

"I'm not taking her away from him." I said finally.

“Darling, you never take them away. You simply seduce them right under his nose."

My jaw tightened. “Is that what this little visit is about? Because you think I’m f*****g his nurse—"

“You say that like it’s a revelation Eddie. You f****d his secretary on his desk, railed both housemaids in the laundry room, screwed the chef in the pantry, and that pretty little accountant he hired last year. Is there a single woman on your brother’s payroll you haven’t bent over?”

“I’ve changed, Margaret,” I said, forcing the words out even as they felt like a lie I was still trying to sell myself. “You of all people should know that.”

She let out a sigh and moved to check Bryan’s IV. “Yes you've changed. You’re finally doing something right with the company. Which is why you need to stop playing your old games with young women who are just trying to do their jobs"

I shook my head. "I don't play games."

"You do, Edmund. It’s your pattern. You want it, you take it, you justify it later. But this one isn’t yours to collect. If Isa doesn’t invite you in, you don’t force the door. You accept it. You let go. Because Bryan needs her more than you need to win."

She lowered her gold-rimmed glasses down the bridge of her nose. I met her stare head-on. She stared right back.

Neither of us blinked.

“And what’s that bottle of I saw downstairs? Have you started drinking again?”

I shrugged, forcing nonchalance I didn’t feel. “It’s the weekend.

Margaret shook her head and sighed. The sound carried years of disappointment with it and somehow reduced me to a guilty twelve-year-old in seconds. She took off her glasses and placed them in their case.

"I'll be here three times a week," she said without looking at me. "Isa can take those days off. Bryan can rest and heal. And perhaps you'll use the time to remember how to be a brother instead of a problem."

***

I preferred dark suits on Mondays. Charcoal Black. Sometimes deep burgundy but mostly black.

There was something about the color that suited the beginning of a work week.

I was still the man responsible for an empire and sometimes the suit helped. It forced me back into that mindset. I leaned back in the SUV’s leather seat and loosened my cuff as Dylan pulled smoothly away from the curb.

Normally this drive was sacred preparation time. Financials. Strategy. The next boardroom bloodletting. Today none of it stuck.

Instead, my thoughts drifted somewhere far less productive.

A nurse with stubborn eyes. A sharp tongue. And an infuriating habit of occupying space in my head she hadn't been invited into.

I exhaled slow and let my eyes drop back to the window.

The skyline climbed in the distance, glass towers catching the morning sun and throwing it back.

Work awaited.

I walked into the lobby just as Rayner stepped out of the elevator. He cut straight toward me like he’d been watching the driveway feed.

He had.

“All set?” he asked.

I smiled. Didn’t let it touch my eyes. Nerves. God help me.

I’d spent the night I'd spent most of the night reading through the government's proposal.

By midnight, I practically had the thing memorized.

I'd already had our legal team tear the agreement apart.

Twice. Their conclusion hadn't helped. Solid offer. Low risk. Potentially historic returns. Which should have made the decision easier.

Rayner clapped my shoulder as we turned toward the elevator. The clap was too firm. A “we got this” clap from a guy who’d already decided what “this” was.

“It’s arranged. They’re in the boardroom. All of them.”

We stepped into the elevator together.The doors slid shut. The climb began.

Ever since Bryan's accident, it's been the two of us carrying this empire forward.

Me at the helm. Rayner at my side.

One making the decisions.

The other making sure those decisions don't sink the company.

I rubbed a hand across my jaw and exhaled slowly.

"God, don't let me f**k this up."

Rayner glanced sideways.

"You know we're in trouble when you're praying before a meeting."

That earned a reluctant laugh from me.

He wasn't wrong.