Chapter 2

Why did my brother say he'd "beaten me again"?

Simple.

Back in school, when it came to grades.

Or later, when it came to results at the company.

He always came out just a fraction ahead of me.

Almost as if someone had arranged it that way.

The next second.

I turned around and looked at him, calm. "Assistant? What assistant?"

"Oh, right, you don't know yet."

"Dad just decided."

"You're going to be my assistant."

"You'll help me handle this project."

"The company makes money, the shareholders are happy."

"And some of the credit goes to you, too."

"Well, that last part was my idea, actually."

"We are brother and sister, after all."

"Wouldn't look right if I took all the credit myself."

Something in his words set a faint tremor moving through me before I could stop it.

"Dad told me to be your assistant?"

"That's right."

"If you don't believe me, go in and ask him now."

I stared at the door of Dad's CEO office.

Every instinct in me wanted to storm in and demand the truth.

But in the end, I held back.

I was about to tell him I wasn't interested.

Instead he tossed me his car keys.

"Sis, go bring my car around from the parking lot to the front, would you."

"And book Mr. Matthews for me in a bit."

"I want to go over the details of this project with him."

"Oh, and grab me a coffee while you're at it."

"Extra sugar, thanks."

It didn't take long.

Every department in the company got the notice from the CEO's office.

Craig Delgado had been promoted to manager of the project department.

All at once.

People rose from their desks to congratulate him.

As for the way they looked at me.

There was contempt in it.

And something that said they were looking at a poor, pathetic thing.

I drew a slow breath and didn't blow up. I only gave a long look at my brother, basking in everyone's praise, then turned and left the building for the parking lot.

Ten minutes later.

My phone rang, sharp and insistent, like it was chasing me down.

I looked at my brother's name on the screen.

The corner of my mouth lifted. I answered and said hello.

"Sis, what's going on with you?"

"Didn't I tell you to bring the car to the front and wait for me?"

"I've been standing here three minutes already."

"Where are you?"

I kept driving, and let out a flat little "hm."

"Craig, I'm not your driver."

"If you need someone to drive you around."

"You can go hire a driver of your own."

His voice came back, refusing to believe it.

"Dad made you my assistant."

"Driving is part of an assistant's job!"

"And Mr. Matthews is waiting for me."

"If I'm late to the very first meeting about the project details."

"And it upsets Mr. Matthews and the whole project falls through."

"Who's going to answer for the fury of Mom and Dad and those shareholders?"

"Are you willing to take that on?"