Hooked By Love (2 page)

Josh

From a young age, I’d had the best of everything. Wait, that wasn’t entirely true. My father had made sure we had mercenary value tagged and that we had the best education money could buy, but private schools didn’t teach us how to avert the hatred of family and the jealousy of friends. I suffered both throughout my life and that was why I’d decided to drown myself in work every chance I got. Somehow, work consoled my nerves and thoughts and took me into a narrow corridor of purpose and reward—emotional reward that numbed me against pain or rejection.

I was working when the rain began to patter against the tinted windows of my lavish office on a cool Wednesday afternoon. My laptop hummed from the excessive heat of my pulling it through an all-nighter to get the proposal for a new office block finished. The mild thunder was like a song, running from one side of the room to the other, but then came another sort of thunder—my brother, Craig.

He burst through my door without so much as a knock, because Craig had never met courtesy or its distant cousin, consideration. With his blue suit blazer flapping in his flight, he screamed into my office.

‘Christ, Josh, you have to see this,’ he said as he made for the flat screen in my makeshift waiting area. He threw himself over my sofa, sidestepped my coffee table and grabbing the remote, he aimed it at the TV.

I leapt to my feet and said through slightly gritted teeth, ‘What the hell are you doing? I have some deadlines to meet here.’

Just because he was older than me, he thought he could still pull rank like when we were children. Even adulthood didn’t absolve me from Craig punishing—no bullying me. He simply ignored that I was a grown thirty-two-year-old executive and treated me like a brat under his trampling feet.

‘Saw this earlier on another channel, Josh. Sit. Sit,’ Craig ordered me.

I obliged, only to get him out of here sooner.

‘What are you on about? Footie scores again?’ I teased, referencing his occasional fling with sports betting and subsequent losses.

‘No, man. Look. Remember that building in Camden we bought?’ he asked.

‘The brown brick mews?’ I tried to recall.

‘No, no, no. The … that round front tower property off the park,’ he urged me.

‘The three-story with the garden?’ I asked, remembering the pictures of the Camden proposals he’d briefly shoved under my nose in the middle of a dinner party.

‘Yes, that’s the one. Now watch this. Apparently the owner … no, not owner, the manager of the youth centre there has a bone to pick with us about it.’ He slapped his thigh in delight. ‘Fancies herself a hero of the people or something. I’ll show her—’

‘You can be such an arsehole, Craig.’ I shook my head at his mockery. As long as he didn’t use it on me, I looked past his malevolent mischief and matching personality flaws. His arrogance and unshakable self-belief had its benefits in our business, as Craig always wanted to win and was a fierce negotiator.

‘Sometimes, most of the time, right?’ he boasted, beaming through his reddened face and growing double chin. He loosened his tie as if the news would be an event to watch.

A painfully neat newscaster with her hair tied in a ponytail graced the screen. Her flawless skin and impeccably made-up face stared back at us as her cultured, even-toned voice filled the room.

‘Today, Amber Cross, manager at the Young Minds Centre, called a press conference to address the Berkley-O’Neil purchase of the building in which the counselling centre is housed. Jared Holmes spoke to Amber Cross from the centre and now reports.’

‘Can you believe it? She just wants to get on TV to bitch about the takeover. It really pisses me off when people don’t understand progress, you know?’ Craig yapped at me.

But all I saw was the beautiful woman on my high-definition screen. She stood waiting to say her piece about our latest buy, with none of the ‘Ooh I’m on TV’ flush that people usually had when they got their thirty seconds of fame. She looked calm and composed as she opened her mouth to speak. I shushed Craig to hear her better.

‘Needless to say,’ she said, ‘we at the Young Minds Centre are devastated by the impending eviction of all occupants after Berkley-O’Neil thought it was a good idea to add our charity building to their already rocketing property development business. By doing this, they are taking away the only place where confused gay teens and young adults can come for help. These young people need us. They need to know that they are more important than some corporation’s bank account. That’s why I’m speaking out and bringing our plight to the public. I believe our teens are more important than a block of flats and I’m sure anyone with a heart not made of stone will agree.’

Her words didn’t upset me, nor did they challenge me, but deep inside, I didn’t like this pretty and intelligent woman making our company look bad. My grinning brother was staring at the screen, relishing the plea of the woman on television and his power over their fate. I shook my head in dismay at his reaction. He sensed a fight, and he was looking forward to it.

I’d only been working for the family business for over a month, so I was pretty much in the dark about recent purchases.

‘What exactly do they do at the centre?’ I asked Craig.

Without facing me, he replied, ‘I dunno. Some kind of counselling place for gay teenagers.’

Amber’s voice continued to float through the air.

‘It takes a special kind of heartless money-monger to close down a place like our centre for their own unnecessary gain. They would never dare show their faces, to come and see for themselves what a difference the Young Minds Centre makes in people’s lives every day. In fact’
—she turned her face directly to the camera as if she were addressing me—
‘I invite the buyers at Berkley, O’Neil and Associates to visit us for just one day. I challenge them to persevere in their monetary pursuits of turning this endearing and trusted site into some high-end apartment building or hotel. This is not just a building; it is a hub of life and hope to the users of the service we provide.’

I couldn’t stop looking at her. Not only was she a natural, down-to-earth beauty with stunning red hair and big green eyes, I was intensely attracted to her attitude. Amber Cross exhibited a warring spirit but still came across as compassionate toward her fellow man. Anyone who chose happiness over money had my solid admiration, but of course, that didn’t go for Craig.

‘Can you believe that shit? Huh? Incredible. Not only is she making a complete idiot of herself in public by challenging the likes of us, she thinks that provoking us will get our attention. It’s a shame such a pretty thing is so desperate.’ He gestured to his crotch area. ‘Of course, if she wants my attention, I’d be happy to give her a good once-over at one of our hotels—on the house.’

He winked and let out a lascivious laugh. The sound unsettled me.

I watched his face change to a serious display of irritation. This Amber Cross had clearly got under his skin, regardless of the charade he was putting on. He sat quietly for a while, his eyes jumping from side to side as his brain worked overtime. Then his eyes snapped up to meet mine.

‘I won’t allow a small-time nobody to get in the way of my business, Josh. Hell no,’ he insisted in a more robust voice that dripped with anger. ‘This purchase is but one of many I planned and carefully executed. And you know what? I won’t have insignificant members of the public cause holdups and obstacles for my vision of the future. I won’t take this shit from anybody.’

‘Relax, Craig,’ I said calmly, thinking of the upheaval an eviction would mean to the youngsters. I doubted I could change Craig’s mind but it was worth a try. I gave my brother a tight-lipped smile. ‘You have more than enough money as it is. I’m sure that old place won’t make a difference in your … great vision anyway. Why don’t you let them stay there? A gesture of goodwill, so to speak.’

Craig looked at me as if he wanted to skewer me alive. His face shifted from rage to confusion. ‘Wait. You’re not seriously considering this fucking challenge, are you? Are you off your rocker? You’ll give in to please some whiny bitch and in doing so compromise this company’s integrity and … and power?’

‘I never said that,’ I defended. ‘Listen to what I’m telling you. If we don’t respond to this woman’s challenge, we might as well say goodbye to the project.’

He instantly looked less intimidating and even gestured with his head that he was eager to hear what I had to say, but I knew he was just doing this to give me the benefit of the doubt. Usually, he ignored my opinion anyway after listening to it, but it was worth voicing.

‘The public will believe everything she said and think we’re cowards hiding in the shadows, where we bully the needy and abolish all moral rules to make a pound, get it?’

Craig opened his mouth to argue, then promptly closed it when I raised my hand.

‘That woman will be a hero and be proven right for calling us out as silent, faceless corporate bastards,’ I impressed upon him. ‘Is that what you want?’

He jumped up from the sofa, walked over to my desk and stared me down as the thunder cracked outside. My brother looked like his old mean self, breathing his foul breath in my face as he leant on the arm of my chair, his face inches from mine.

‘It appals me how someone of your wealth and success would give a shit what the public and that pathetic bitch think of us,’ he whispered hard against my cheek. ‘You are a disgrace to this family. Weak. Cute and wholesome. There’s no place in this world for a snivelling wimp like you. Step aside and let the big dogs deal with business, all right?’

Sweat beaded on his top lip and I wondered just how much self-control it took for him not to punch me in the face.

I had nothing to say. He had responded the way he always did: callous and arrogant and furiously pissed that our parents had left me equal shares in the company. It was a relief they’d seen that Craig was not a man who should be given absolute power—not over anything. My parents had always kept him in check, but unfortunately, they weren’t around anymore to maintain that balance, and he’d become a big black block of negativity, out to conquer the entire property empire of London and its surroundings. I couldn’t stop him, and he knew it. But I had given up running my own successful business to save my father’s legacy before Craig could destroy it, so I had to at least try to minimise any potential damage he might cause. Engaging in a dispute with a charity that helped teenagers was not the sort of fight I wanted played out in the public domain.

I watched with quiet amusement as Craig stormed toward the door at a brisk gait, shaking his head while mumbling what a waste I was. He cast me one last hateful glare before he jerked the door wide open and slammed it shut behind him.

‘Yeah, off you tread on your high horse,’ I said out loud.

He had turned off the TV so I switched it back on to see if I could catch her again.

Amber. Amber Cross. The woman haunted my mind on so many levels and I couldn’t let this incident go. I had to do something about our reputation, regardless of what my brother thought. Besides, he was no higher in authority than I was. My decisions were as
important important
important as his, held as much weight, and that’s why he hated me more than when we were children.

‘Gina,’ I told my personal assistant on the phone. ‘Get me Priscilla Jones at London Morning and Jimmy Grails at Channel 5. Tell them I would like to be interviewed regarding   the Young Minds Centre issue … Yes, that’s right. Regarding the Amber Cross public invitation.’

I sat back in my chair. Not only would Amber hear a rebuttal from the heartless money-monger she’d called out on TV, but Craig would be livid. A double score for me. I grinned at the black screen that had so recently held the image of her arresting face. Today had just got interesting.

Zack

Why did adults lie? They made statements as if they were set in stone: don’t worry about it; you’ll soon get over it; everything will be all right. What exactly did these words mean to someone whose whole world had caved in? Jack shit was what they meant. As far as I was concerned, adults could stick their ‘I know best’ platitudes up their arses. Fucking bunch of losers with their smarmy smiles, patronising voices and fake promises of better things to come. Well guess what? Nothing ever got better. If anything, they just got worse.

I looked down at my mum’s gravestone and I brushed away my tears at the thought of her buried six feet under mud, mixing with worms and insects.

At seventeen, I was supposed to be a man (well nearly), so crying was the last thing I should be doing according to society. I should have held my grief inside, had a stiff upper lip and just got on with life. If only it were that easy. My mum had been everything to me and now she was gone. I had no one, well no one who genuinely cared. My uncle tried to put on a good show about being there for me but work always came first. From the minute he woke up, his head was in a newspaper or his iPad, then he’d leave the house and wouldn’t return until he thought I was asleep. The last time I checked, looking after someone involved more than putting a roof over their head, but that was all my uncle had done for me. We were as far apart as two continents.

My mobile phone bleeped. Without thinking, I removed it from my pocket but didn’t check my messages straight away. I knew who they were from: Hope, the one girl all the guys lusted over at college, but for some reason, she was only interested in me. I gave it a few minutes before I flipped open my phone. When I did, my heartbeat pounded in my chest, making it nearly impossible for me to breathe as I read and re-read the words over and over.

I know why you don’t want me.

What does she know? She couldn’t have found out the truth.
I forgot about my mum lying stone cold beneath my feet as I quickly punched in some text:

What’s that supposed to mean?

I waited. Every second that ticked by seemed like an hour. When she still hadn’t replied five minutes later, my panic level elevated to red. I paced the gravel floor—four steps forward, an abrupt turn, then four paces back. My hands trembled as I checked and re-checked my phone.

‘Come on, Hope. Answer me for fuck’s sake.’ I licked my lips, aware that my voice was shaking. ‘Bloody answer me.’

A passer-by stared at me with suspicion as she hurried past with a bunch of flowers held tightly against her chest. I attempted to give her a reassuring look, but it didn’t work. She bowed her head and quickened her pace.

‘Oh piss off then,’ I muttered under my breath.

She probably believes all the shit she reads in the paper about teenagers being the new terrorist
.

I turned my attention back to my phone.

The phone bleeped again and I inhaled deeply, prepared for the worst.

You know exactly what it means.

You’ve been keeping secrets.

My legs buckled beneath me and I used my mum’s headstone to keep upright. With my free hand, I smacked my forehead hard. ‘No, no, no, no, she can’t know.’

My breath rasped in my throat and my thoughts were muddled as I tried to figure out how to respond. Before I got the chance, my phone bleeped one more time. Even though I dreaded to see the words in black and white, I couldn’t help but look.

Mel told me that you want to shag her.

Mel?
Relief hit me like a bucket of ice water. I laughed out loud as I combed my fingers through my hair and looked heavenward.

‘Thank you, God,’ I said, more out of habit than in the belief that a grey-haired man in the sky was looking over me.
Trust Mel to save the day with her wild fantasies.

That was one text message I wouldn’t be responding to. Best to leave Hope with the image of me being a bastard than her finding out the truth.

I bent down and kissed my mum’s headstone, promising her I’d visit next week, then I headed towards the exit. As I walked, I thought about all the things that could go wrong if anyone found out about me. Not only would I have the piss taken out of me on a daily basis, but the news could also get back to my uncle. I didn’t particularly like lying but it was the only choice I had. Not that it really mattered. That was another thing adults lied about: always tell the truth. It was funny how the ones who surrounded me did anything but.