“Probably not.” I give her a grin.
“So.” Aubrey sets a vanilla latte in front of me. “How was your first day?”
I take a sip of my drink. No caffeine hit because it’s after hours, but it still tastes like ambrosia. “Insane. You’re looking at the new assistant to the assistant to Brick Blackthroat.” I pep up my announcement with ironic jazz hands. “I got to serve him coffee.”
Aubrey snorts. Her opinion of heartless capitalists and the patriarchy is lower than mine. “Welcome to Wall Street, where they require an Ivy League education to fetch their drinks.”
“I know, right?” I grimace. “But my first paycheck comes in three weeks, which is just in time to make Brayden’s first tuition payment.”
Aubrey’s face softens. “You’re a good sister.”
“It’s only fair. I had my tuition covered by my anonymous sperm donor.”
Aubrey doesn’t comment. She knows my complicated feelings about the rich douche, identity unknown, who knocked up my mother and left us both to struggle, to survive.
Another pretty rich boy leaving destruction in his wake.
A customer steps up to the counter, and Aubrey drifts off to help him. The man puts in his order, his voice surprisingly deep. He’s handsome in a boyish way, with long hair and John Lennon glasses. He catches me looking and raises his brows, as if inviting my approach.
I turn away. All I can think about is Brick Blackthroat and the deep rumble of his authoritative voice.
This isn’t like me. Perving on a Wall Street billionaire. My last fling was with a wannabe poet who dropped out of college to build his own tiny house and run a community garden. About as opposite to Brick Blackthroat as you can get.
Aubrey returns with a chai for herself. “So…Wall Street. Dudebros. Making money.”
“Making a lot of money. And they’re horrible.”
Objectively, they’re horrible. Pompous, wealthy frat boys running a company. For some reason, though, I don’t dislike any of them, even Billy.
I especially don’t dislike Brick Blackthroat.
“I’m sure.” Aubrey.
I think of the boardroom, the charged atmosphere. Blackthroat was abrasive as I expected but even more good-looking than his press photos made him appear. Handsome in a way that makes you hate him even more. Like those villains in movies who seem even more dangerous because of their good looks.
My entire body came alive in proximity to him. His power is palpable and addictive.
In my research into this job, I dug up his origin story. Brick Blackthroat came from money, but his father died when he was eighteen, and the family business tanked. The six of them-Brick, his two cousins, and their closest friends-started their first company together in their frat house. They caught the crypto wave with their own coin and then trading platform, MoonShot and MoonBase, but Blackthroat didn’t stop there. He took a big bet investing in a semiconductor company, and that’s where he made his first solid billion. That’s when the world stopped laughing at the frat brothers playing with Monopoly money and started calling Brick Blackthroat the next Warren Buffett.
“They’re bossholes, for sure,” I say. “They’re the baddest boys on Wall Street, but I guess they have to be. That’s the game they’re playing.”
Okay, fine. I admire the hell out of them for what they created.
“Good thing you have lots of practice dealing with the rich and pampered.” She means my time at Landhower, rubbing elbows with the polo-playing set who walked around the oak-shaded campus like they owned it. Their last names were on the old stone buildings, in honor of the sizable donations their families had made to the school, so they kind of did.
“Good thing.” What bothers me is how much I’m looking forward to seeing Brick Blackthroat up close and personal again. I should be immune to rich douchebags.
“What?” Aubrey leans in. “What’s that look on your face? You can tell me.”
“My boss is hot.”
“Ooooh,” Aubrey taps her silver nose stud. “You’re into Wall Street bros now.”
“Hell, no.” I rear back so fast I almost spill my latte. “I don’t date rich guys.”
“I didn’t say ‘date’.” Aubrey runs a finger along the rim of her mug. “I’m just saying…if the conference room’s a-rocking, don’t come a-knocking.”
“Gross,” I say, but I smile. The images flash through my mind as if they were waiting for permission: me laid out before my boss like a buffet offering, Blackthroat looming over me, glacial eyes pinning me to the conference table as he strips off his suit jacket and rolls up his shirt sleeves. What sort of muscles are hiding under his suit?
No, no, no. No drooling over my boss.
“I need this job. I need money, not to get laid.”
“Maybe you can get both. A couple of orgasms and a nice payout to keep Dick Blackthroat’s name out of the tabloids.”
I choke on my latte.
“That’s how I’d play it.” Aubrey’s smile is wicked.
“Plan Z, then. If I get fired.”
“You won’t get fired. You’re a quick study.”
I am more than a quick study. I am as capable as an assistant could be, and I plan to make myself indispensable to Brick Blackthroat. Indira and I will keep those jobs, and Brayden will get his education.
Aubrey reaches below the counter to retrieve a flier. “They’re having an 80’s band night next door.”
“No,” I groan before she can even ask.
“Come on,” she wheedles. “It’ll be fun.”
Eighties girl bands are everything to Aubrey. They always have been. We spent most of our early teens either learning to play or choreographing dances to The Bangles, The Go-Go’s and Banarama.
“I can’t. I need to prep for tomorrow, and it might be an all-nighter.” After the mornings’ conference meeting, the office was buzzing about the Benson deal. I need to know every detail before morning.
Rule number three: Always be prepared.
“It’s not tonight. It’s in a month,” she says. “And I may have already signed us up to play.”
“To play?”
“Please? Please, please, please? It will be so fun!”
“Aubrey-“
“I can’t do the Go-Go’s by myself. I need you.”
“You need someone with real talent, and that is not me.”
“It is totally you. There are four bands playing, and we would be second. I got my friend Erica to play drums. We just need you on bass. No rehearsals required-I know you’re busy.”
“I’m not playing without a rehearsal. We literally haven’t performed since tenth grade.”
“Yeah, but I know you. You never forget anything. I’ll rehearse with Erica. You just have to show up that night and play.”
“Fine.” I open the calendar on my phone and enter the date. “I’ll do it. For you. Just let me get my sea legs with this job. I might need to pull some all-nighters to stay one step ahead.”
“Those billionaires don’t deserve you.”
“No. They do not.”
Aubrey scampers over to the espresso machine. “Before you go, I’ll make you a latte. Full-caf this time.”
“You’re a goddess.” I take a moment to check my work phone. There’s already a hundred new emails, and a few frantic texts from Indira over the meeting with Benson we’re trying to schedule “yesterday.”
Sure, boss. Let me just build a time machine real quick.
Aubrey hands me a to-go cup. Twenty ounces of caffeine, bless her.
I salute her and head out. I’ve got emails to answer and a corporate takeover to conquer. And Brick Blackthroat? I’ll treat him like any other rich jerk. Impress his suit pants off as Professional Madi, cash my paychecks and spare not a thought for him outside of anything strictly work related.
I’m not afraid of the Big Bad Boss.
Brick
The next morning, I have my driver drop me off a couple miles from Wall Street and walk the rest of the way in. I’ve been itchy to run ever since leaving the office last night. I refuse to believe it’s because of New Girl. I don’t get hot for humans.
Still, I have an excess of energy, so walking it off before I go in and rip everyone around me a new one is probably for the best.
My phone buzzes, and I shove my earpods in to take the call. It’s my sister, Ruby. She’s five years older, but we’re close. Especially because she has two pups now with Eagle, my lead counsel, and I’m crazy about my niece and nephew. Also, we had a fucked-up upbringing in an even more fucked-up family, and we’re now the leaders of the Blackthroats.
“What’s up?” I answer curtly. Even with family, I’m stingy with words.
“I talked to Mom.”
I suck in a sharp breath. Every mention of our mother makes me want to thrash someone. Not her… because she’s still my mother and as much as I hate her, I’m too damn attached. Some core of me-maybe it’s the alpha wolf instinct-is still protective.
“She, uh, she said Uncle Odin is dying.”
“And?” I demand. The taste in my mouth is as bitter as they come. I wouldn’t give a fuck if the entire Adalwulf pack died off tomorrow.
Well, I’d have mixed feelings about my mother. And therein lies the conflict that eats me up every day.
“I don’t know. I think it frees her up somehow. She said she wants to spend time with her grandbabies.”
I gnash my teeth. “Are you going to let her?”
“Um…yeah. I want to.”
I want to tear the metal trash can out of the concrete on the sidewalk beside me. I don’t know why in the hell we’re having this conversation. Just to make an already sour day worse? Then it dawns on me.
“You’re asking my permission.” She may be my older sister, but I’m the alpha. I knew my sister had been in sporadic contact with our mother since our father’s death, but I didn’t consider it my problem. It’s Ruby’s choice. Personally, I know I couldn’t handle seeing her. It would tear me up too much.
“Well, no. Not exactly.” I decode that to mean if I say no, she’s going to do it anyway. “I just wanted to run it by you.”
“Do you actually think your young are safe with her? August is in line for the throne if anything happens to me. You think the Adalwulfs will let him live?”
“Brick, she didn’t kill Dad!” Ruby says hotly. She sounds close to tears, which makes me back off. I may be a nutsack to most of the people around me, but Ruby doesn’t deserve it.
“You know I don’t believe that, Rubes,” I say gently. I stop my brisk walking and rub my forehead, causing the foot traffic around me to change flow and drawing muttered curses.
“Why would they kill a five-year-old? If they killed anyone, it would be you, and that obviously hasn’t happened. There’s no reason to kill. They think they won when Odin poached all the whales to Adalwulf Associates. Blackthroat Investments isn’t even open to outside clients anymore. We’re no longer a threat to them.”
I am definitely a threat to them. Every. Single. One of them.
“You haven’t talked to her, Brick. I wish you would. She’s devastated over Dad and losing her relationship with us. I know she didn’t do it.”
“I’m not sure we can trust ourselves or our judgment when it comes to our own mother.”
“I am. I’m sure, Brick.”
She’s delusional. But my sister is a peacemaker. She was always trying to weave peace between our parents and the two families.
“Well, do what you want to do, just keep me out of it,” I mutter and start walking again.
“Okay. Understood. Auggie has a karate tournament tomorrow night if you want to come.”
Just the mention of my nephew makes me soften. “How’s that working out?” I still can’t believe my sister risked putting Auggie into any kind of sport with humans. The danger of him showing superhuman abilities is way too high. But I suppose the sooner he learns to hide it, the better. That was his parents’ idea, anyway.
“It’s good. He loves it. It’s a good way for him to get his energy out.”
“I’m sure. Yeah, I’ll be there for sure. Text me the details.”
“All right. Oh-and I’m making plans for the ball. You’re coming alone, right?”
“Right.”
Her voice turns mischievous. “Just checking to make sure you don’t want me to set you up with a date.”
I catch myself thinking about New Girl and snarl, “Hell no.”
“You sure?” she teases but backs down immediately. “All right. Love you.”
I soften a little more. “I love you, too.”
There’s a ten year gap between my oldest and youngest sisters, but Ruby and Scarlett and I are close.
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