He lets out a short whistle.

“Always so feisty. No wonder the attorney thing didn’t work out.” He pauses and his eyes soften. “If it’s any consolation, I’ll miss you.” He sounds genuinely sincere.

I mentally sigh. This is why you should never date someone at your workplace—one minute you’re enemies, fierce competitors, and then the lines blur. Richard’s a dick don’t get me wrong, but he’s a dick with a nice face who also happens to be very good in bed.

“Fuck off,” I say gruffly.

He laughs one more time before walking out of the office. I groan and place my head on the desk that isn’t mine anymore.

Where did I go wrong?

* * *

“You were fired!” my mom screams through the cell phone. Then she pauses.

“Who am I kidding? Of course you were fired.”

“Mother!” I yell in indignation.

“I always knew the criminal lawyer thing wouldn’t work out. You’re too rash, Lisa; you think with your heart and fists instead of the incredibly brilliant brain I gave you.”

“Excuse you, sweetheart, I’m pretty sure she got her brain from me,” my dad’s booming voice chips in.

“Hey, Daddy,” I greet with a smile.

“How’s my baby?”

“Fired,” my mom replies before I can.

I roll my eyes.

“Really, you got fired?” my dad asks in surprise, then he clears his throat. “I suppose it was only a matter of time.”

I rub my hands over my face.

“I need help here, guys, not judgment,” I groan.

“We’re not judging you, darling, we understand. So, what’s the plan now?” he questions.

“I don’t have one, Daddy. I lost my job thirty minutes ago,” I reply dryly.

“Come on, sweetheart, you should have been planning something. How are you going to afford rent in LA? Or the bills? You can’t do all that without a job, Lisa. If it was just you, I’m sure you could have managed, but it’s you and Noel. What do you plan to do?”

With a sigh, I rub my forehead.

“I have a migraine.”

I can almost picture my dad shaking his head. He’s a problem-solver, always thinking of the next step. He always has a solution; I’m just waiting for him to tell me what it is.

“Move back home,” he finally says.

“Say what?” I ask in surprise.

“You heard me, Lisa.”

“I thought you would offer to help me find another job. Use those amazing contacts you have here. Or at least lend me money. I can’t just uproot Noel’s life and move back to Arcola. What would I even do there?”

“You have a problem; I suggested a solution. I think moving home would be beneficial. You’d be closer to us, and I’m sure finding work would be a breeze.”

“Yes, darling, you could take over the coffee shop,” my mom suggests.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Really? The coffee shop?” I question. “I graduated summa cum laude from the University of Illinois. I went to law school and kicked ass there. I can’t work in a coffee shop.”

My dad snorts.

“If your ego were any bigger, your head would explode, Ms. No-Job.”

“I’m being serious here,” I tell them.

“So are we. You have two options, Lisa. Either move back to Arcola with Noel, or let Noel come live with us until you can find your footing again in LA.”

There’s a note of finality in his voice. Here’s the thing: I’m a daddy’s girl—the biggest daddy’s girl I know. If my dad tells me to do something, eighty percent of the time, I do it. I trust his judgment and he’s almost always right. But moving back to a town I swore never to return to? That’s a little extreme. How would I even cope? I’m used to the hustle and bustle of LA life. I don’t know if I can handle living in a small town.

Although, if I’m being honest, I’ve thought a lot about moving Noel away from here. LA’s not the best place to raise a kid. It’s expensive, and there’s a lot of pressure to meet societal expectations. It can be hard.

“I’ll call you in a few days after I’ve thought about it,” I say quietly.

“Excellent. I can’t wait to see Noel,” my mom says excitedly.

My eyes narrow.

“This is all just a plan to see your grandson more, isn’t it?”

“We can’t confirm nor deny that statement. Bye, baby,” my dad says before hanging up.

I shake my head as I start the car and begin the drive to my son’s school, even though it’s not time to pick him up yet. But I want a hug right now, and my son’s my only chance of getting one.

“Mama,” he yells, standing up from his desk and running into my arms.

I lift him into my arms and run my hands through his dark hair. I give his teacher an apologetic look. She had been in the middle of a class that I interrupted with my arrival.

“Noel, we talked about this. You need to ask for permission before getting up in class,” his teacher says with a frown.

“My mama’s here,” he states in confusion.

“Yes, I see that, but you should have raised your hand and asked if you could stand up.”

He blinks his hazel green eyes once.

“Why?”

I smile before turning to his teacher.

“I’m sorry, Miss Shaw, I shouldn’t have dropped by unannounced. It’s my fault,” I tell her.

She nods. “It’s alright, Ms. Lawson. He can gather his books and go.”

After getting all his stuff, I lead Noel to my red Prius. He waits until I’ve strapped him into his booster seat and started the car before pestering me with questions.

“What are you doing here, Mama? Why aren’t you at work? Is something wrong? Why did I have to leave school early—”

“Noel, breathe,” I interrupt softly.

He stops talking and takes a deep breath. I know he’s counting to five in his head. It’s something he does to help calm himself down when his brain goes into overdrive.

“Can I speak?” I question.

“Yes, Mama.”

“Alright, so first things first.” I take a deep breath before continuing. “Mama got fired from work today.”

He’s silent for three seconds.

“Why?” he asks calmly.

“Well, I may have done a terrible job at work and now I don’t have one anymore.”

“You’re not a lawyer anymore?”

“Technically, I still am a lawyer. I just don’t have a workplace anymore,” I reply.

“So, when are you getting another one?” he questions.

“I don’t know, monkey,” I tell him.

“There’s lots of jobs, right? Just go find another one.”

“It’s not that easy, baby. I’m not sure I want to be a lawyer anymore, actually. I don’t think I’m very good at it.”

“You’re the best lawyer I know,” he exclaims.

“And how many lawyers do you know?” I ask him.

“One,” he replies, making me chuckle. “But I know you’re the best.”

“I am pretty good,” I concede. “But not in the ways that really matter.”

“What does that mean?” Noel questions.

“I can’t really explain right now, monkey.”

“Okay. So, what will you do if you aren’t a lawyer anymore?”

He always asks all the right questions. Too bad I don’t have any answers for him right now. I find his eyes in the rearview mirror. They’re so inquisitive and bright. He’s only six years old but sometimes acts older than he is. Other times, he’s a brat, though. I love him more than life itself.

My little baby.

SAM

For as long as I can remember, the only thing that has mattered to me is my family: making them proud, making sure they can live the best life possible. It is like a great puzzle of which you are a part, and of which you must also take care that no piece or part is broken or lost. Family unity is very important, a united family is always a solid family. And to be someone who keeps your family together, you need to be someone with a lot of strength, someone who has an iron soul to continue consolidating that stability within the family nucleus. Not everyone could cover such an important role.

I took on the role of caretaker from a very young age. It wasn't like it was pushed to me; I accepted it willingly. I saw what my dad did for my mom, for his sister, for us, and I decided I wanted to be like him. Selflessly sacrificing, working hard to be a man. A successful, respected and good man. And what better example than the one who saw me grow and gave for me, my father, that man whom I had always respected and still do. Although to become like him I need to obtain some very important characteristics that almost no one gets to show off.

I have managed to get just one of those features. I am successful, that cannot be denied in any way. But respect is hard to earn, and most people don't really think of me as a good person. However, I have never let that bother me. Put on a cold, indifferent facade, and suddenly you're untouchable to the world. They can't prick you with thorns if you're wearing armor. It is one of the hidden rules of psychology to achieve success in life. But not even the most successful man in the world can establish the idea that he is respected, and even less in the business field, many people always see you more as a rival than as a person of respect. My father was unique, he had both characteristics. But he was always very modest about it, he didn't like to be praised for that kind of thing. How much admiration I felt for him, which owes all my respect to his memory.

"Mr. Carius, are you with us?" asks one of the board members.

His black suit has been perfectly tailored on his plump body. The thick black mustache over his mouth does nothing to hide the menace I can see on his face. He is a shark; we all are. I give him a cold smile.

"Of course."

There are fifteen of them. They all came together to build this company with my father at the helm. They invested, conspired and worked hard to get Carius Industries to where it is today. There is no Carius Industries without any of them. And they are very proud of that fact.

It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to forget how capable I am. I'm the boss, the CEO. That will never change.

"Fine. You can continue," I tell the marketing director.

The meeting continues and I do my best to ignore his disapproving smirks and sneaky sarcastic comments from him. It's been six years and they still don't respect me like they respected my dad.

I'll never be him, and now he's not even here as my support system. And that knowledge will always haunt me.

* * *

“I need those files on my desk in ten minutes,” I tell my secretary as I walk past her desk.

He nods and his eyes follow me to my office. Once inside, I collapse in my chair and groan. I'm tired. I haven't been home in two days and I haven't eaten in twelve hours. But I'm on the verge of a breakthrough, and honestly that's all that matters.

We're this close to winning a big contract: distractions are the last thing I need. However, I am forced to hold that thought when my phone rings. I sigh inwardly before picking it up.

"Hello, distraction."

"What do you mean by distraction?" my mom asks, confused.

"Nothing. How's your day going?" I ask quickly.

"Good. I went shopping with Meredith.

"Where?"

"Las Vegas. We had a wonderful time. I have some amazing wedding items,” she replies.

It never ceases to amaze me how my mom can talk about taking a private plane and flying to another state like nothing happened. My family is rich, of course, but it is something that is never on my mind. Probably because I work too much and don't have time to enjoy the wealth I'm accumulating for us. My mother always tells me that I work hard just so I don't have time to really enjoy life. Before it was difficult, now I really feel the weight of everything on my shoulders. The last thing on my mind is enjoying life when everything can fall apart if I'm not focused.

"I'm sure you did," I tell him. “Listen, mom, I have to go. I have a lot of work to do.

“All you do is work. Have you eaten anything today?"

I briefly consider lying. The problem is that it's not really in my nature.

“I ate a donut around seven a.m. m.”, I inform him.

She gasps.

"That is a sacrilege."

I smile. "Don't be so dramatic, mother."

“It's good that you're coming home in two weeks. I need you to eat well. Maybe I'll even find you a wife while I'm at it.

"Woah, woah, woah, I've agreed to come home as long as you don't try any matchmaking ploys."

"Oh, did I say that? That's too bad. It's okay, I won't try any matchmaking ploys,” she promises.

“You can't make Meredith do it for you, either,” I say dryly.

"Chicken nugget," she whines.

I laugh. My mom doesn't like to swear openly, and you can get in a lot of trouble if you swear in front of her. I thought words like "chicken nugget" and "pizza sauce" were normal swear words for most of my childhood. High school was interesting, to say the least.

"I'll talk to you later, okay?" I ask, ready to hang up.

"Wait, I haven't even told you the best part yet," she states.

I wait five seconds for her to speak until it's clear that she wants to prolong the suspense.

"Come on, mom, spit it out," I say impatiently.

“Okay, okay. Lisa’s back in town!” she exclaims.

“I’m sorry, who?” I ask in shock.

“You know, Lisa? Your brother’s ex-girlfriend, Lisa.”

“I remember her,” I mutter. “What’s she doing in Arcola? I thought she went to LA to become some big-shot lawyer.”

Funny she’s coming back right around the time my brother has decided to start a new chapter with another woman. I’m not a big believer in coincidence. And I really don’t trust Lisa. I swear to God, if she’s trying to manipulate Marty… She was always really good at sinking her claws into him.

And me too.

I clench my teeth to force out the memory. It’s best to let sleeping dogs lie.

“I’m not sure about the details. I ran into her mom at the store the other day and she told me she was back. Apparently, she’s moving back to town. I haven’t seen her, though. Isn’t this amazing? All my babies are coming back.”

“I’m not coming back,” I dispute.

“Of course you are. You’re spending your two-month vacation back home after the wedding.”

“One month. And it will be a short one-week trip for the wedding instead of a vacation, if this deal doesn’t go through.”

“Of course it will. You’re the best, sugar. Also, you’re spending two months at home, and I will hear no arguments.”

I decide to keep quiet and roll with it.

“Alright, alright. Can I hang up now?”

“After you’ve picked up the phone and asked your secretary to order you some food,” she states.

I groan before hurriedly doing as she asked.

“There, happy?”

“Very. Bye, my love.”

“Bye, Mom,” I say before hanging up.

* * *

|A glass shattering is the first thing I hear when I open my eyes.

“What the fuck?” I whisper as I get out of bed.

I pull on some clothes and head downstairs to find the source of the noise.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Carius,” one of the maids says upon sighting me at the doorway to the kitchen.

“Trina, you know my mornings are sacred. I barely get any sleep as it is,” I say, trying to rein in my frustration .

“I realize that, Mr. Carius, but she was recently hired and she hasn’t gotten the hang of how things are done here yet.”

I’m silent for a few seconds before turning to the short young woman at the back. She makes sure to avoid my eyes and she looks like she’s a little scared.

“Hey, step forward,” I say to her. “I’m not going to fire you over broken glass, if that’s what you’re scared of. But I do have a few rules. First and most important rule, please, do not disturb my sleep,” I say.

With that said, I turn around, grab the cup of coffee from Trina’s already outstretched hand and exit the kitchen. I went to bed around 4 a.m. and it’s currently seven, which means I had about three hours of sleep. I had planned to get four, but I suppose I had better get on with my day.

“We talked about this, Sam. No more tormenting the staff,” someone says from behind me as I start to climb the stairs.

I turn around to face my little brother.

“What are you doing here?” I question while taking a sip of my coffee.

He’s dressed casually in gray joggers and a white T-shirt. His long dark hair is styled in a messy, disheveled way that he swears is his fiancée’s favorite look on him. His green eyes are so unlike mine yet so similar at the same time. It’s the expression in them. Someone once told me my eyes look haunted, while Marty’s look alive.

Marty is like a golden retriever. I’m a vampire. The same person who described our eyes was also more than happy to provide me with that depiction.

“I can’t come to see my big bro?”

“You should be busy with wedding preparations,” I state, turning around and heading up the stairs. He follows, of course.

“I am busy, but Mom told me to check up on you. With good reason, I can see. What did that poor girl do to you?”

“She broke a glass and woke me up.”

“Don’t you think you’re to blame for buying a house that echoes so terribly?”

I turn and glare at him. He rolls his eyes.

“Alright, fine. I get that she broke something and woke you up but it was an accident. Couldn’t you have scolded her in a nicer way?”

“What’s the point of scolding if it’s done nicely?” I retort.

Marty chuckles. “You don’t even want to try to be a nice guy.”

I shrug. “It’s not really my thing.”

We enter my room and Marty immediately lies on the bed. The dark circles under his eyes suggest he’s not sleeping well. It might just be due to stress, though.

“Lisa’s back in Arcola,” I find myself saying.

I’m not sure why I’m telling him. I guess it’s a warning or something.

“I know,” Marty says simply.

“And you don’t care?” I question.

“Of course I care. I haven’t seen her in so long. I kind of miss her. I still don’t know why she decided to cut off all contact,” he says a little sadly.

“You’re not still in love with her, are you?” I ask.

“Come on, dude. I’m getting married. That’s not even a question you should be asking.”

“And that’s not an answer, Marty. You’re not still in love with her, are you?” I repeat.

He sighs.

“I haven’t been in love with Lisa in a long time. She was my first love and my best friend, but I’m over that. I’m over her, obviously.”

“Good,” is all I say.

I know one thing for sure. Lisa Lawson’s reappearance in our lives is going to change things. It’s inevitable. She’s like a force. It doesn’t matter what she does, she always makes sure to leave her mark. I can only hope our next meeting doesn’t have devastating consequences.