Giving My All To You. Sheryl Lister

“Are you thinking of putting someone else in the position?

      “No.”

      Something—he didn’t know what—in his father’s tone gave Brandon pause. “Is that all?”

      “Yes.” His father released a deep sigh. “Son, I know you’re upset, but I assure you this is just temporary.”

      Brandon stood and nodded. “Since it’s almost five, I’m going to take off, unless you need me to stay.”

      He shook his head.

      “Tell Mom hi.”

      “I will.”

      Brandon stalked back to his desk, locked up and set out for the gym his brother Khalil owned. The former model was now a highly sought-after personal trainer. With rush-hour traffic, it took Brandon nearly an hour to reach his destination, which incensed him even more. He was more than ready to take out his frustrations on the heavy bag.

      “Damn, big brother. You might want to go easy on that bag.”

      Ignoring Khalil for the moment, Brandon continued with his punches. A few minutes later, winded, he removed his gloves, wiped his face with a towel and downed a bottle of water.

      “Want to tell me what’s going on and why you’re about to dislodge my bag from the ceiling?”

      He took up a position next to Khalil on the wall. “Dad is postponing his retirement. He said something came up that he needs to handle and it could be another couple of months.”

      “Why can’t you handle it?”

      “I offered, but he wouldn’t even tell me what it was. It’s bugging the hell out of me. I’m almost positive Uncle Thad is in on it, too.” Brandon recalled the shared look between the two men.

      Khalil swung his head in Brandon’s direction. “I know he’s not thinking about putting someone else in the CEO position. Granted, you do go over the top sometimes, like when that couple was trying to sue the company last year. You’re lucky Siobhan and Morgan are still speaking to you.”

      He shot his brother a dark glare. “Shut up.” When the accusations were first leveled, Siobhan, the company’s PR director, had been out of town with her now husband and missed several calls that weekend. Their baby sister, Morgan, had been tasked to handle the legal case and, unbeknownst to the family, had become agent to a star football player. Both times, Brandon had confronted his sisters, feeling that they should have put the company first. Needless to say, it hadn’t won him any brownie points. While Siobhan still worked for the company, Morgan had left the company six months ago and was doing well in the world of sports management. She had also married said football player. “Dad said he wasn’t looking to place anyone else in the position, but I have a bad feeling about this.”

      “Thank God, because I’m certainly not going to do it, and neither is Malcolm.” Their youngest brother, Morgan’s twin, played professional football and had no interest in doing anything not sports-related. Khalil straightened from the wall. “Well, you’ve waited all this time for the position. Another few weeks won’t kill you.” Brandon grunted and Khalil laughed. “Besides, it’ll give you more time to practice some patience.”

      Brandon grabbed his stuff and left Khalil standing there. He spent another forty-five minutes lifting weights before calling it a night. To add to his already foul mood, he realized that he’d forgotten to add a change of clothes and, after showering, had to put his wrinkled slacks and dress shirt back on. He spotted Khalil on his way out working with a client and threw up a wave.

      At his car, Brandon tossed his gym bag in the backseat, then climbed in on the driver’s side, started the engine and drove off. His stomach growled, letting him know it was far past the time for him to eat. As he merged onto the freeway, his cell rang and he engaged the Bluetooth device. “Hello.”

      “Brandon, can you stop by Thad’s and pick up a folder for the meeting tomorrow morning?”

      “Hey, Dad. I thought he was going to be there.”

      “He planned to, but the orthopedic clinic had a cancellation and can see him sooner than his original appointment two months from now.”

      Brandon knew how difficult it was to get an appointment with a specialist and understood the necessity of taking anything that came along earlier.

      “I’d go, but your mother and I are on our way out and won’t be back until late.”

      “I’ll take care of it.”

      “Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”

      Groaning, Brandon reversed his course and headed in the opposite direction. Twenty minutes later, he parked behind Uncle Thad’s black Buick, got out and started up the walkway. Unlike the other houses on the block, this one had no steps leading to the door, which made it easier for him to maneuver his crutches or wheelchair. He rang the bell and, while waiting, scanned the meticulously groomed yard. Brandon remembered mowing it on many weekends growing up. The grass had turned brown in spots, but that was to be expected with the drought.

      “Brandon, come on in.”

      He turned at the sound of his uncle’s voice and stepped inside. “Hey, Unc. I see you still keep the yard looking good.”

      Uncle Thad smiled. “You know I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He adjusted his crutches and led the way farther into the house. “Sorry you had to go out of your way. I know you probably have things to do so I won’t keep you.” The inside of the house was just as neat, with not a speck of dust to be found anywhere, despite his bachelorhood. He picked up a manila folder from the dining room table and handed it over.

      “Thanks. Dad or I will fill you in when you get back.” Brandon retraced his steps to the front door.

      “All right. See you Friday.”

      He loped down the walk to his car, got in and backed out of the driveway. His stomach growled again. He had a steak marinating that he planned to grill and pair it with some potatoes and an ear of corn, but he was so hungry he didn’t think he’d last the time it took to prepare the meal. But he didn’t want to stop for fast food, either. The good thing was that Unc’s house wasn’t far from the freeway. He shifted his gaze from the road briefly to check the dash clock. Seven thirty. Hopefully, at this hour, he would have missed a good portion of the traffic. Brandon eased onto the highway and immediately saw that it was still a little heavy, but not too bad. His cell rang again. He sighed and connected.

      “You were supposed to stop by my office and tell me what Dad wanted,” Siobhan said as soon Brandon answered. “I went to your office and your assistant said that you left before five. You never leave before five. What happened?”

      He sighed, not really wanting to talk about it. “I just thought I’d leave a little early today, Vonnie, that’s all.”

      “Mm-hmm, and you didn’t answer my question.”

      Rather than risk his sister coming to his house tonight—and she definitely would to get answers—Brandon gave in. “He’s postponing his retirement.” He repeated what he’d told Khalil.

      “That’s strange. Well, at least you’ll still get the position.”

      “Yeah, but—” A truck cut across the highway and hit something in the road that flew through the windshield of a car in the next lane a few lengths ahead. The car swerved and crashed into the center divide. Brandon let out a curse, flipped on his hazard lights and eased to a stop in front of the car. “There’s an accident. I’ll call you back.”

      Luckily, the shoulder was wide enough for the crashed car to be out of oncoming traffic. He jumped out, cell phone in hand and, being careful to stay closer to the shoulder, sprinted back to the passenger side of the car while dialing 911. He peered through the window and saw a woman inside. He gave the dispatcher the location and told him that the woman was conscious, but that a pipe of some sort was imbedded in her right shoulder. Brandon