The Other Brother (17 page)

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Authors: Brandon Massey

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #General

BOOK: The Other Brother
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Chapter 30

two, the meeting was over. F y the time Gabriel arrived at the office five minutes after

The conference room in which the discussion had been held was empty. A large paper flip chart stood in the corner, on which Gabriel would have written ideas and feedback from the prospective client. The pages were full of writing in black marker; Gabriel read through them and guessed that they were notes from the talk.

"You missed it," Pops said from the doorway, startling Gabriel. Pops stepped inside and closed the door. He leaned against the conference table, arms folded over his chest, hands tightened into fists. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you had a problem that required you to stay home, you should have told me in advance. That's our policy. You know that"

"I'm sorry." Gabriel dug his hands in his pockets. He felt like a child again, as though he'd brought home failing grades on his report card. "I got caught up in something."

"And it prevented you from calling me?" Pops asked. "This was an important meeting. There was a lot of money riding on this deal. The prospect was expecting to talk to you.

How could he tell his father what was really going on? Pops, I was at home experimenting with my psychic powers. Want to see me float a pencil? His father, a hardheaded realist, would think he had cracked up, and Gabriel wasn't convinced that a live demonstration would sway his father-or that he'd be able to summon his telekinetic ability on demand in the first place. He was still tired and hadn't felt the tingling in his palms since he'd left the house.

He had to keep the truth to himself and endure the rebuke from his father. But it stung. In spite of his father's confessed failings, Gabriel still admired him as a business person. Hearing his father's disappointment in him was worse than being whipped with a belt.

"Pops, I'm sorry. It was an honest mistake. It won't happen again."

"We closed the deal anyway. You can thank Isaiah for that" Pops motioned to the flip chart. "He took those notes. He shared a ton of shrewd ideas, impressed the hell out of the prospect. And me, too. You should have seen him in action. You would've been floored."

"I'm sure" Gabriel smiled sourly.

"What the hell is your problem? I'm beginning to lose patience with your attitude about your brother."

If you only knew what Isaiah was planning, Pops.

But, again, Gabriel could not express his honest thoughts. There was no way his father would believe him-especially after Isaiah had apparently helped guide a lucrative contract to completion. Few things held as much influence with Pops as dollars and cents.

"It's what I said last night," Gabriel said. "I just don't trust him."

Pops walked toward Gabriel. "Listen to yourself, Gabe. Not twenty minutes ago, this man you don't trust helped us seal a property development contract for two million dollars. Because you brought in this prospect, this man you don't trust just helped you earn a bonus check for five thousand dollars. When I offered to cut him a bonus, too, this man you don't trust declined it and said he was serving only as a substitute and didn't deserve the money. Does that sound to you like a man who shouldn't be trusted?"

Pops's nostrils flared. He was furious, Gabriel realized. He hadn't seen Pops this angry since he'd been in high school, when Gabriel had taken one of the family cars without permission and backed into a tree. Afterward Pops had grounded him for a month and made him pay for the damage.

"All right," Gabriel said. He had to be careful here; he didn't want to infuriate Pops further. "Isaiah helped close a deal, I'll give him credit for that. But, Pops, why is he working here and participating in executive meetings, no less? How is he qualified for that?"

"He's my son," Pops said. "What other qualifications does he need?"

That explained it, Gabriel suddenly understood. Pops believed that merely because Isaiah was his son, he deserved an opportunity to work in the upper ranks of the company. As though Isaiah had inherited a gene from Pops that had destined him for entrepreneurial greatness. Pops had often said the same thing about Gabriel, but that had not stopped Gabriel from earning an advanced degree and toiling in every level of the organization to learn the business from the inside out. He'd paid his dues. It was only fair that Isaiah should have to do the same.

But that argument would not sway his father. Pops didn't care about what was fair. He cared about making moneyand Isaiah had somehow convinced him that he could deliver.

"College degrees and job experience aren't everything," Pops said. "There's a lot to be said for natural ability, for pure management talent. Do you think everyone with an MBA and ten years' work experience is destined to become a millionaire?"

"Of course not" It sounded as though Pops was talking about him.

"Isaiah will be shadowing various executives in the organization me, you, and others-to gain deeper insight into what we do. Then we're going to work together to create a position for him, a role that will best utilize his talents for our company."

Gabriel couldn't believe he was hearing this. But, at this point, arguing with Pops would gain him nothing.

"Sounds as if you've got it all worked out," Gabriel said.

"We worked it out today-while you were `caught up in something' at home"

Gabriel gnashed his teeth.

"I expect you to help Isaiah learn the ropes," Pops said. "This is business, Gabe. When we're here I could care less about whether you like him as a person, though I think you should make an effort to get along with him. He's had a rough life, but he's a good guy at heart. You could be a positive influence on him."

Gabriel said nothing. He didn't trust himself to speak without screaming.

Pops clapped him on the shoulder.

"Back to work, son. You've got a little healthy competition for the CEO mantle now."

Gabriel went to his office, but he could not concentrate on his work. He felt as though he were going to collapse underneath the weight of all his problems.

Pops was disappointed in him. His relationship with Dana was foundering. He was seeing frightening hallucinations he couldn't explain. He'd gained a psychic talent from mysterious sources and it appeared to be empowering-but it could bring unknown and harmful side effects. And Isaiah, whom everyone but him trusted and adored, was succeeding in setting up him and his family for a catastrophic fall.

Gabriel swiveled away from the computer and buried his head in his hands.

He needed a shoulder to lean on, a sympathetic ear. But there was no one to whom he could turn. He'd alienated everyone.

He'd never felt so abandoned.

"It's all falling apart, isn't it, little brother?"

Gabriel snapped up. Isaiah had entered his office. Gabriel had been so absorbed in his worries, he hadn't heard the door open.

"Get out of my office," Gabriel said.

"Hold on" Grinning triumphantly, Isaiah sat in a chair in front of Gabriel's desk and comfortably crossed his legs. "Pops told you I'd be shadowing you, studying the business from the inside. I'm here to learn."

Gabriel gripped the edges of his desk. It took all his selfcontrol to restrain himself from bounding over the desk and strangling Isaiah with his bare hands.

"And you should be thanking me, too," Isaiah said. "I closed the deal while you were at home with your thumb in your ass. Because of me, you're five grand richer. Can I get a `thank you'?"

"How about a `fuck you'?"

Isaiah merely smiled.

"You keep on slipping up here and Pops is going to bus your ass down to the mail room," Isaiah said. He looked around, appraising the decor. "I'll move into this office, get rid of that boring shit you've got on the walls, maybe add some posters of Janet and Halle and some other hotties 7

"You've lost your mind. You're not taking my office" But Gabriel's denial lacked conviction. The truth was that his father was so enamored of Isaiah that he didn't know what might happen. His future at the company, once assured, suddenly seemed to be in question.

"It's tough when Daddy isn't on your side, cleaning up behind you, straightening your tie, and wiping your snotty nose, isn't it?" Isaiah shook his head sadly. "Now you know how I felt my whole life. You're learning how it feels to be out in the cold with no safety net, no one to save you"

"Look, I'm sorry you had to go through that crap, but that has nothing to do with me ""

"It has everything to do with you," Isaiah said in a low voice. Rising, he planted his hands on the desk and leaned forward. He was so close that Gabriel could smell the peppermint on his breath. "If you hadn't been around, my father would have taken care of me and Mama. He deserted usfor you and the rest of you arrogant, spoiled assholes."

Isaiah's eyes bore into Gabriel. The eyes of a psycho. He was the kind of man who would do anything to get what he wanted. Gabriel understood that about Isaiah intuitively.

But Gabriel held Isaiah's glare.

For the first time in his life, he had nothing to lose.

"I don't need Pops to take care of you," Gabriel said. "I'm going to handle you myself. You're gonna wish you never came here"

"Hear that line in a movie or something, little brother?" Isaiah smirked. "You don't know me. You don't know who you're fucking with."

"No-you don't know who you're fucking with," Gabriel said. "I don't have anything to lose anymore. You hurt anyone in my family and I will kill you" Gabriel stabbed his finger at Isaiah, inches away from Isaiah's nose. "That's a promise."

Isaiah blinked-then he laughed. He pushed away from the desk.

"We'll discuss business later, little brother," Isaiah said. "I think I'm going to swing by the mall and buy some new threads for our birthday party tomorrow."

Gabriel's family had planned a thirtieth-birthday celebration for him at the 755 Club. At first Gabriel had been eagerly anticipating the party, but so much terrible stuff had been going on that he'd almost forgotten about it.

"Our birthday party?" Gabriel said. "It's my party, not yours"

"We share the same b-day, remember? Pops thought it would be a good idea to make it a celebration for the two of us"'

"You're lying." But Gabriel knew he was telling the truth.

"Now, Gabe, you know how our father feels about me. I'm his firstborn."

Gabriel got to his feet. "Get out"

"See you at the party," Isaiah said.

Snickering, Isaiah left. Gabriel dropped back into his chair. He rubbed the bridge of his nose.

He didn't even want to think about tomorrow night, having to watch Isaiah mingle with his family and friends. The prospect was nauseating.

He couldn't stop his father from including Isaiah in the party-Pops was footing the bill for the affair-but he had to do something to prevent Isaiah from further insinuating himself into his life. But what could he do?

There was a knock at the door. Miss Angie came inside with a bundle of envelopes.

"You don't look well," she said. "What's wrong?"

"How much time do you have?" he said. Then he shrugged. "Never mind, I don't want to talk about it. What do you have for me?"

"Lots of mail," she said. "It's accumulated quite a bit with you being in and out of the office this week"

She deposited the mail on the desk. Turning to leave, she said, "You and Isaiah look so much alike. It must be exciting to discover that you have a brother like him, such a nice young man"

Gabriel forced a smile. "It was a surprise."

"Oh, certainly. But you have a wonderful family. I'm sure he's been fitting right in."

His smile faltered. "That's one way to put it."

Miss Angie, seeming to realize that she was treading on a minefield, excused herself and left the office.

Gabriel began to sort through his mail. Most of it was junk: invitations to overpriced seminars and workshops, enticements to subscribe to business periodicals, resumes from individuals who apparently had done no research whatsoever on the company. Gabriel was involved in hiring decisions, and one of his responsibilities involved reviewing resumes from management candidates.

At the bottom of the stack he found a thick nine-bytwelve envelope from Miller Investigative Research Services, Inc.

Sean Miller, an old Morehouse buddy of Gabriel's, had founded Miller Investigative Research Services. His company conducted extensive background checks on prospective employees. In these days of fraud, you could never be too careful about whom you hired. Miller would verify prioremployment history, criminal records, judgments and liens, credit reports-anything requested. Everyone's life and deeds were documented, somewhere, and your past could be used against you.

Gabriel tilted back in the chair, contemplating the envelope, though he didn't open it.

You don't know me. You don't know who you're fucking with.

Isaiah was right. Gabriel knew nothing about him. He knew only what Isaiah had told him and the family.

Could he have lied about his background?

He could have-and Gabriel was positive he most likely had.

Gabriel sprang forward and yanked open a drawer. He looked for his lucky Mont Blanc pen Pops had given him when he'd graduated from Morehouse, but he couldn't find it. Maybe he'd left it at home.

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