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Authors: Krista Lakes

BOOK: Stepbrother's Gift
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***

M
y dad had worked hard all his life and knew the value of money. After working his way up the corporate ladder in the financial industry, he had taken a big leap in his late 30s to start his own advertisement business. It had been a lot of hard work, so much work that my mother had divorced him, but he had eventually pulled through and was now a very successful millionaire.

With that kind of success came the ability to buy everything that one could want, but my dad never seemed to want material possessions. And even though he could have any woman that he wanted, at the age of 45 he fell for a widower that worked in middle management at a firm that he was contracted to do market research for.

Nancy was a strong woman. Still vibrant and young-at-heart, I knew that she would be a great companion for my dad. And even though I didn't think that I needed a mom, Nancy made me feel like she could be a friend while still being in charge of the house. I liked her.

Unfortunately, she came with baggage.

The first time I met James was the last day of summer before I started high school. He was definitely a troubled teen, but I didn't see that at the time. All I saw was the dark hair, the green eyes, the body that was way too muscular to be a high schooler. He was everything a freshmen girl could dream of.

And, even though his mother insisted that we have a conversation, he had ignored me.

He had sat out on our deck, sitting under an umbrella and sipping a lemonade. His arms had been crossed and he basically pouted the entire time, acting like a spoiled little brat. I tried to talk to him, but I was fourteen years old and probably not very interesting. His mother had prodded him, but he ignored her too.

Then, my dad had offered him a beer. He perked up immediately. He drank it while my dad grilled him about his studies, his ambitions. I remembered him being very engaged with my dad, but also defensive about the fact that he didn't know what to do, even though he was doing well in his computer classes. “All that tech stuff is for nerds,” he had said.

My dad had just smiled. “You know what they say about nerds. One day you'll be calling one 'sir'.”

James had scoffed at that. “I'll never call anyone 'sir'.”

“You will if you're working for someone else,” my dad replied. He knew- he had worked for someone else for the first twenty years of his adult life.

“Then I guess I'll just have to work for myself,” James decided, as if it were just that easy.

My dad had just chuckled. “I think you and I are gonna get along just fine. Come on in the kitchen with me. Let's get another beer.” He turned to me. “We'll be right back, sweetie.”

James quickly chugged the rest of the beer in front of him, and the two disappeared into the house. I let the sun's rays hit me and just kind of laid back and drank it in. I had just gone through another growth spurt recently, and all my hormones were telling me that I had a crush on every boy I saw. I at least recognized that, but I also thought James was incredibly hot. I wished he would talk to me.

Nancy made small talk with me while they were gone, but it seemed like she was enjoying just laying out in the sun as well. Fifteen minutes must have passed before Dad and James came back out. Dad had a box of six bottles of beer in his hand, which he sat down on the table. “Nancy, you and I are going to go out to get ice cream. We'll be back in a half hour.”

Dad grabbed two beers out of the container, leaving the other four within reach of James. Nancy got up and smiled, walking into the house with Dad and leaving the two of us alone.

“So, your dad tells me you're starting high school in the fall?” James asked me. It was the most he had ever said to me up until this point.

“Um, yeah. Ninth grade.” I looked down at the ground, unable to make eye contact with those piercing green eyes of his. “Have you heard any teachers I should try to avoid?”

“You'll want Ms. Patterson for English, but avoid Mr. Bennet for math,” he replied. I stared at him for a moment, unsure of what was happening. He was talking to me. The cute boy was talking to me.

The conversation seemed great to my fourteen year old self. I wasn't sure what had just changed, but I wasn't about to complain about having a hot senior paying attention to me. He asked me what music I liked, what movies I liked, what my interests were. He mostly let me talk about myself, but he told me that he was learning the guitar. I heard a little brag in his voice when he said that he had mastered the solo to a song I had never heard, and I could tell he was proud of how far he had come.

I was so engrossed in what he was saying that I hadn't even noticed that an hour had passed, or that James drank all four of those beers in front of him. When my dad and Nancy finally returned, he was leaning forward, definitely looking interested as I told him whatever story I wanted. I felt special. He made eye contact with my dad, nodded, and continued to listen as our parents had a seat with us.

The conversation wrapped up shortly after that, as Nancy said they had to go. James had staggered to the driveway, obviously drunk. “Had a good time today, Frank,” he had said to my dad, slurring his words a little bit.

“So did I. I got a feeling you and I are going to get along just fine,
sir
.” At the time, I had thought it was weird that Dad called James 'sir'. Later on, however, I found out that this was the first business deal that James had ever made.

***

S
o now, the man who had bought me a conversation way back in the day would now have to buy me an expensive flight home because I had been irresponsible. Because James had left such an impression on me that day that I couldn't help but fall for guys that were aloof, full of themselves, and flaked out on me over a car ride home. I didn't even want to think of the car ride James had denied me right now. I just wanted to get home.

Chapter Three

Y
ou know what they say
, I thought.
You can never go home again.

I looked up at the house I once called “home” and called my dad. I didn't have enough cash to pay the taxi driver, who stood next to me with his arms crossed. It was snowing out and we were both shivering. My rolling luggage was safely in his trunk, held hostage in case I didn't have enough money to pay.

He answered on the first ring. “Allie!”

I put the most charm that I could in my voice. “Hi, Dad! There was a change in plans, and I had to take a taxi from the airport. I need you to come out and pay him.”

“Oh. But I thought that nice boy Jon was supposed to drive you home from the airport.”

I sighed. Jon had been my first boyfriend when I moved to New York. He was a nice guy for sure. Too nice. My dad had met him when he came up to visit me at college, but by then I already felt no sexual attraction for him anymore. I had dumped him the day after my dad left.

He had no idea about any of the other guys I had been with.

“Things with Jon didn't work out. Can you come quick? I'm freezing out here,” I said, shivering in the snowy air.

“Oh, okay. Let me just put some pants on.” Maybe some things about home never did change. On days when my dad didn't go to the office, he often just worked in his underwear and robe. It was a wonder he had managed to land a wife at all.

I waited outside for him. When he finally arrived, he was still wearing the robe I remembered from high school, just with a pair of sweatpants and a ratty pair of tennis shoes. He looked absolutely ridiculous. Even the taxi driver had a quick laugh about it. Dad paid off the guy, and he released my bag from captivity. We trudged back through the snow and got inside the house.

As soon as I was in the door, he wrapped me up in a big hug. “So good to see you, kiddo! How are things?”

“Fine,” I said, sounding exhausted. I had already had a super long day and I didn't really feel like talking to him or anyone about it.

“Sorry to hear about Jon, he seemed like a nice fella. Do I need to go break his leg or point a shotgun at him or anything?”

I laughed. “No, Dad.” Though if he had asked last night, I would have sent him out after Danny.

“Nancy is in the living room watching TV. Can I get you anything to drink? Hot cocoa?”

“Actually, Dad, I'd rather just go upstairs and unpack. It's been a long day.”

He looked at me with understanding, probably more understanding than I deserved considering the money I had just spent. “Of course, sweetie. We'll be down here if you need anything. Your room is all made up and ready for you.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I grabbed my bag and started to head for the stairs. “Oh, and one more thing. I had to use my emergency credit card for a flight out here. Hope you're not mad.”

For a moment, his eyes darkened and I thought he might be angry. Then he softened and said, “Of course. We can talk about what happened later. For now, just relax and unwind.”

I smiled, then skipped back over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks a ton.” I knew he couldn't really stay mad at me for this. After all, I had made it home for Christmas, hadn't I?

That was more than he could say about James. This would supposedly be his first Christmas home in forever, though I wasn't even sure he'd actually make it this year. They seemed to understand, since he had been busy in college and then, once he dropped out, busy making a billion dollars. Still, I could see that it had affected Nancy.

“Dinner's in an hour,” Dad yelled up after me as I made my way up the stairs.

“Okay, Dad,” I called back. I wondered if I'd even be able to stay up that long.

“Hey,” he called. I turned back. “James said he's going to be here. I really need you to try and be nice to him. He deserves our congratulations and we want to make him feel like part of the family again.”

I knew that my dad thought of James as the son he never had, and that did irk me a little bit. Still, he
did
deserve recognition for his achievements.

I nodded, making an noncommittal promise and hurried upstairs.

***

M
y room was exactly the way I had left it. Well, maybe a little bit neater than when I left.

I immediately threw my suitcase on the bed and started to unpack. The clothes I brought were nothing like the wardrobe that I had left home with. Before school, I had been something of a tomboy. New York had changed me for the better. I wasn't sure that my roommate, Nicole, was the best influence on me, but she had definitely pushed me in the right direction when it came to fashion.

I had thought about bringing home some of the clothes that I had used to wear, thinking that otherwise people wouldn't recognize me. “Sweetheart, you don't want people to recognize you,” Nicole had said when she caught me putting old clothes in my suitcase. “You never dress down to fit in with slobs. That's Fashion 101.”

She was a fashion marketing major, and since 100-level classes were the only ones we could take as first semester freshmen, she may have actually had a class called Fashion 101. And, as I took out the little black dress that she had specifically picked out for me, I knew that she would be pretty good at fashion marketing.

Of course, it looked better on her. All the boys turned their heads when we went to a party together. She had tried it on before handing it over to me, and I loved the way that it hugged her curves. I hoped that it looked as good on me.
The four-inch black heels wouldn't hurt either
, I thought as I pulled them out of the bag.

Truthfully, I was looking forward to James' reaction. The thought of him salivating over me in this dress, not being able to do anything about it, made me giggle. Yes, it was a little petty to have that reaction, but after the way he treated me in high school, I thought turnabout would be fair play.

In this dress, I'd no longer be Allie. I'd be Allison, sophisticated New York socialite.

I giggled and hung the dress up. I started putting some of my other clothes in the dresser, when I remembered the secret compartment I had built into it. James was always a snoop, so I had to find some way to keep things secret from him. Sure enough, as I pulled the drawer out of my dresser and reached up into the frame, I felt the small jewelry box. I opened it up, wondering what forgotten treasures I had left in there.

It was mostly faded photographs, movie ticket stubs, and notes from Tessa, my best friend in high school. I looked over the little snippets of love and encouragement, immediately feeling pangs of guilt as I realized how close we had been, and how far away we had drifted.

Tessa wasn't born into a life of luxury. Her father was an immigrant from Mexico, and her mother only second-generation American herself. They were the hardest working family I knew, but they had nowhere near the money that mine did. She had to stay here in Springfield after graduation, while I went off to a fancy college in New York.

As I looked over all the “Best Friends Forever” notes, I realized that, in this case, “Forever” had only lasted about four months without seeing each other every day.

It was a real shame, and I meant to fix it. However, before I could get my phone to call her, I saw another piece of paper that I recognized. It was a hastily scribbled IOU. I had almost forgotten I had actually held on to it at all. I lifted out the wrinkled scrap of paper and read the whole thing.

––––––––

T
O ALLIE

FROM JAMES

Merry Christmas!

IOU one present

––––––––

I
t was typical James. Something sweet and playful about the gesture if you wanted to see it that way, but beneath it, the stink of his rotten selfishness and casual cruelty. His senior year of high school, he had gifts for dad and Nancy and even our maid, Maria. But not for me. He had forgotten, he said. So he scribbled this IOU on a scrap of paper and handed it to me when we opened presents.

I was happy with my high school self for not throwing it away. Its value had to have increased a thousand fold, now that James was for all purposes an actual billionaire. Maybe I’d actually redeem it this year.

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