Stepbrother With Benefits (12 page)

For the longest time, Johanna had been Jack’s
raison d’être
: she’d reinforced his confidence though unconditional love and support, and kindled in him a desire to provide her with the best that life had to offer. Today, he found a new muse coaxing him on from the back of his mind: Ellie.

His mind drifted back to yesterday morning’s episode in the kitchen, and the corners of his lips curled up into a little smile. She could prove useful in more than one way.

And then, the smile instantly disappeared.

What the hell was he thinking? Ellie was his freaking stepsister! Nothing like that could ever happen.
Ever.

He just wanted to make her proud. So she wouldn’t worry. Yes, that’s all it was.

As the distant coffee maker gurgled and beeped that it was finished, Jack wiped his face clean with a towel and rubbed his hands together excitedly. With this brand new idea, he would be able to show everyone at work – his boss, his team, Tom, and most importantly the executives from Matsukisha – that he, Jack Wilson, still had it.

This was going to be a great day. He just knew it!

* * *

As the conference room lights brightened and the automated window blinds began to rise, Jack’s boss remained in a contemplative state – hunched forwards, fingers tented, with a distant look in his eyes.

Jack waited in silence until, at long last, Mr. Morton leaned back in his chair. “Hmm,” he said.

Considering how much convincing it had taken Jack to even get the man to
consider
taking a look at his updated proposal, that was a very promising “hmm” indeed.

Tom snorted, obviously having made up his mind already. “You’re not seriously considering going with
that?”
he asked incredulously. “Especially now, at the last possible minute?”

Mr. Morton picked up a folder and flipped back and forth between a few of Jack’s printed advertisement mockups. “I don’t know, Tom... can you give me a good reason why I shouldn’t?”

“Well sure – like, it’s too far
out there,
of course!” came Tom’s emphatic reply. “It’s crude, it’s crass... it’s aiming for the lowest common denominator. Matsukisha is a Japanese company, and the Japanese want refinement, dignity, respectability... not something that looks like it was written by a bunch of stoners.”

“Mmm, I don’t know. I think they want above all are results, and it’s certainly a memorable campaign. Jack – what about the censors? Will they be any problem?”

Seated across the table from his boss, Jack smiled. He could already tell where this conversation was headed, and Tom wasn’t going to like it!

“Some quick searches last night says we shouldn’t have any real problem, so long as it’s a legitimate word and pronounced clearly. There’s precedent for this kind of thing. Might still get some complaints from the Parents Television Council, though...”

“Eh, that’s expected for pretty much anything that’s good,” interrupted Mr. Morton. “Frankly, the bigger fuss they try to make, the better for us. Can’t buy press like that...”

“Um, sir,” interrupted Tom, “I don’t exactly know what’s going on here, but I do know we’ve already agreed to use my campaign. I’ve already rehearsed everything. You can’t change now!”

“Look, Tom. Push your ego aside for one minute and think about what’s best for the team. We’ve got one chance to impress these guys – one chance to show them that
In Touch
is the best place to entrust their tens of millions of advertising dollars. I know you and Jack have both worked hard, so give me some time to think it over. I’ll let you know what I decide before lunch.”

“But sir...” began Tom.

“Thank you, gentlemen. That will be all for now.”

Pushing his chair back and getting to his feet, Jack flashed Tom a smug grin as he packed up his laptop. After what that man had said the other day – after all he’d done in the past to get a leg up on Jack – Tom deserved just a little comeuppance. Shame that he’d still benefit if Jack’s campaign won them the client.

Safe and refined, or edgy and memorable. Knowing what was at stake for the firm, Jack didn’t envy Mr. Morton’s decision. Still, he was reasonably certain which one would win out – and he had Ellie’s dirty mind to thank for that!

He’d better get to work on practicing his all-new presentation.

* * *

At exactly ten minutes after five o’clock, Jack stepped outside the packed boardroom and closed the frosted glass door behind him, sealing in the boisterous roar of animated voices talking over each other. Walking stiffly and briskly along the plush carpeted hallway, past glass-walled offices and politely smiling employees eager to go home, Jack made a sharp left turn into the men’s restroom and locked the door behind him.

Finally allowing himself a moment to exhale, a huge grin spread across his face. Retrieving his phone from his inside breast pocket, Jack quickly tapped out an excited text message to Ellie:

I GOT IT!!!

...For once in his life feeling that something legitimately warranted the use of three exclamation marks. A minute later, his sister’s economical reply came back:

gr8 tlk l8r af prty <3

Jack laughed and clicked his tongue. “Can I buy a vowel?” he joked aloud to the empty bathroom, in an especially good mood for the first time in ages.

He did hope that Ellie would have fun at her party tonight. It was disappointing that their schedules would keep them apart for much of his last night in the city – on his night of glorious victory, no less – but it was unreasonable to think that she’d want to wait around by herself in the apartment for whenever he might finally get home from work.

Jack sent a quick response with his love and a caution to drive safe if it snowed as predicted, and then walked over to the granite sink and splashed cold water in his face.

The next step was to return to the boardroom and offer everyone well-deserved congratulations, while making sure that the just-signed contracts had every ‘i’ dotted and ‘t’ crossed. There was absolutely no room for mistakes on his watch! Later on, the entire team was going out for a big celebration dinner at a high-end downtown restaurant, where Jack would set the example by ordering the most expensive dish on the menu and drinking copious amounts of alcohol, all on the company tab.

After all... considering the huge profit he’d just made for them, Jack figured he more than deserved a little reward!

J
ust before
ten o’clock at night, Jack dragged himself through the front door of the darkened apartment and flicked on the light switch.

Having gotten so little sleep last night followed by such a long, strenuous day at work, Jack’s body was sore and weary, and about ready to shut down. Mentally, he felt nothing but a deep sense of satisfaction, having capped off a tremendously successful proposal with a fantastic dinner, where he’d stuck with the original plan of ordering the most expensive menu items – much to the amusement of his co-workers, who ribbed him about it all evening long. And, even though he didn’t end up drinking nearly as much as he’d thought he would, Jack could definitely feel the pleasant warmth of alcohol flowing through his veins. Normally this would be the perfect cure for a cold Chicago winter’s night alone... except, as usual, the apartment was stifling hot, with the radiators cranked way too high.

There’s no way he’d find the time to fix them now. Best leave it for the super.

Kicking off his slush-covered boots and hanging his heavy winter coat on a hook, Jack absentmindedly called out Ellie’s name before remembering that everyone was off at some party.

Honestly, though... who in their right mind holds a party on a Wednesday night? That’s what Fridays are for!

Pondering the fluffy snowflakes that had begun drifting down during his drive home from the restaurant, Jack decided he ought to check the updated weather report for his trip home in the morning.

Grabbing the television’s remote control off the edge of the computer desk, his hand brushed the mouse ever so slightly – prompting the desktop computer to abruptly whir to life, the monitor flickering on and displaying a multitude of icons over a background photo of Rachel, Beth and Ellie... their three heads pressed together and grinning toothily.

Jack automatically smiled back at the cheery photo, apparently taken after one of Rachel’s winning volleyball games. He absolutely loved how happy his sister looked in it, and made a mental note to ask Mark to email him a copy.

Figuring the softly humming computer would eventually go back to sleep on its own, Jack turned on the television and tuned to the weather channel, finding a reporter in the middle of discussing the unseasonably high temperatures on the west coast.

When would they get around to frigid Chicago?

Glancing back at the smiling faces on the glowing monitor, Jack debated whether it would be quicker to find what he needed online. He’d never tried using the apartment’s computer before – as far as he knew Mark was the primary user, and he usually powered it off when finished. But since it was already on, and sitting right there...

Seating himself in the slightly unsteady wheeled chair, Jack grabbed the mouse and gave it a few flicks before he found the cursor. He then hunted for the web browser, but there were so many icons littering the desktop, it was difficult to locate much of anything. Finally spotting it buried between photo editing software and a first-person-shooter game, he clicked through to his favorite weather website and frowned at what he found.

“Snow flurries beginning in the evening, increasing to heavy at times overnight, six to eight inches possible accumulation by morning commute.”

If there was going to be at least a half a foot of snow on the ground by morning, it might be unwise of him to head out too early – especially since it would take a while for the city to get around to plowing all the side streets. After a little thought, Jack decided there was no real urgency to him leaving
exactly
in the morning, although he did hope to make it home before the late afternoon rush hour.

Satisfied with his revised plans, Jack closed the browser and reached up to power off the monitor, which is when his eye fell on an icon immediately adjacent to the glowing power button.

It read, simply, “B+E dance”.

His finger hesitated over the power button. Did that “B+E”mean Beth and Ellie... or did Mark have a secret fetish for Bert and Ernie?

Curiosity finally getting the better of him, Jack dragged the cursor over to the icon and double-clicked, opening a folder containing a single, non-descript video filename.

Was it a personal video? Downloaded porn? Or just something mundane and boring?

Although Jack was somewhat troubled by the thought that he might be prying into something private, it wasn’t like Ellie or her friends had been holding out on him so far. Besides, was
anything
truly private in this place?

With a decisive grunt, Jack double-clicked on the video file and leaned back, waiting apprehensively for the few seconds it took the player to load.

As the picture came to life, the camera’s view swung around wildly – a blur of light and color with no distinguishing shapes. Then, it banged against a hard surface and came to rest overlooking a pair of unmade beds.

Jack instantly recognized this as the inside of Ellie and Beth’s bedroom. Bright light shone through the single window, highlighting all too clearly that the place was an absolute mess: dirty clothes and textbooks scattered haphazardly on the tabletops and dressers, while empty soda cans and food wrappers gathered into literal drifts of trash in the corners. This was a far cry from the neat and tidy bedroom he’d been presented with earlier this week.

For a few seconds there was no sound or movement, and then loud music began to play – something modern and with a beat, by an artist-du-jour that Jack couldn’t quite pin down, but had definitely heard many times before.

Someone giggled off-camera, and then Beth trotted into view, followed by Ellie. They were both wearing tiny midriff-baring T-shirts, Ellie in yellow and Beth in red, with matching extra-low-rise cutoff jean shorts. Their shirts barely came below their breasts and left their stomachs completely exposed, while the tiny shorts emphasized the sharp angles of their hipbones and the sexy Vs of their trim abdomens.

Mom would have had a guaranteed
fit
if she ever saw Ellie in an outfit like that!

Beth spoke first. “Hey Mark,” she said in a singsong voice, leaning towards the camera with her hands clasped behind her back, “this one’s just for you... special for your nineteenth birthday!”

Standing beside each other, the two girls began gyrating their bodies to the pulsing beat of the music, each trying to match the evidently random movements of the other but failing spectacularly. They seemed to acknowledge their total lack of coordination by giggling a lot and pulling goofy facial expressions, all the while wiggling their butts, thrusting their hips towards the camera, and tossing their hair about. The longer they danced, the more they seemed to get into it.