Lies I Tell My Brother

Vienna sat at her desk for the rest of the afternoon and pretended.

She answered phones. She scheduled meetings. She updated the travel itinerary for Chicago. She smiled at colleagues who stopped by to introduce themselves. She drank a glass of water and ate a protein bar from the break room and did not think about the way Ezra's hands had felt on her hips.

She did not think about the window.

She did not think about the sound of her own voice screaming his name.

She did not think about anything except the next task, and the task after that, and the task after that.

At 5:00 p.m., her phone buzzed with a text from Silas.

Coming home tonight?

She typed back: Yes. Late. New job is intense.

New job? Since when?

Since today. I will explain when I get home.

You better.

She packed her bag and stood. Ezra's office door was closed. She had not seen him since he returned from the forty fifth floor. He had walked past her desk without a word, disappeared into his office, and closed the door. She had heard him on calls. Heard him typing. Heard him move around the room.

But he had not looked at her.

Not once.

She told herself it was fine. Professional. He was her boss. He could not look at her like she was dessert every time she walked past his door.

But the silence between them felt heavier than any words.

She took the elevator to the ground floor. She walked through the lobby and out into the cold October air. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, and she stopped on the sidewalk to breathe.

She had survived her first day.

Barely.

---

The bus ride home was crowded. Vienna stood near the back, holding a pole, her body aching in ways that had nothing to do with the lurching vehicle. The window. The concrete floor. The way he had pushed into her without asking, and the way she had wanted him to.

She pressed her forehead against the cold metal pole and closed her eyes.

She was in trouble.

Not the kind of trouble she could escape by running. The kind of trouble that lived inside her now, curled up in her chest like a sleeping animal. The kind that woke up every time she heard his voice or smelled cedar or saw a man in a dark suit.

She wanted him.

Not just his body, though God knew she wanted that too. She wanted his attention. His approval. His low voice calling her good girl.

She wanted to be his.

And that terrified her more than anything.

---

The apartment smelled like Chinese food and antiseptic.

Silas was sitting up in his hospital bed, a laptop balanced on his thin thighs, his face illuminated by the blue glow of the screen. He looked up when she walked in, and his expression shifted from concentration to concern.

"You look like shit."

"Thanks." Vienna dropped her bag on the floor and collapsed onto the couch. "I feel like shit."

"New job?" He closed the laptop. "Start at the beginning. What job? Where? How did you get it?"

She had prepared for this. She had rehearsed her answers on the bus, practicing them until they felt almost true.

"Vance Industries," she said. "Executive assistant to the CEO. I applied two weeks ago. They called me for an interview yesterday. They offered me the job on the spot."

Silas went very still. "Vance Industries?"

"Yes."

"As in Ezra Vance? The founder?"

Vienna's heart stuttered. She had forgotten that Ezra's last name was on the building. Vance. Not Dane. He had used a different name at the auction, or she had misremembered, or perhaps she had never known his real name at all.

"I do not know his first name," she lied. "I just know the company."

Silas's jaw tightened. "Ezra Vance. His name is Ezra Vance. He is forty two years old. He is worth more than half a billion dollars. And he is the reason our father is dead."

The words landed like a slap.

Vienna sat up. "What?"

"Our father," Silas said slowly, each word deliberate and cold. "He worked for Vance. Fifteen years ago. He was the lead engineer on a project that Vance rushed to market. Our father warned him it was not ready. Vance pushed it anyway. The project failed. The company lost millions. And Vance fired our father to make an example of him."

Vienna's mind raced. "I never heard this."

"Because Dad did not want you to know. He was ashamed. He spent years trying to find another job, but no one would hire him after being fired from Vance Industries. He started drinking. He stopped leaving the house. And then his heart gave out."

"That is not Vance's fault."

"Is not it?" Silas's voice rose. "Dad told him the project was dangerous. He told him people could get hurt. Vance did not care. All he cared about was money and deadlines and looking good to his investors. He destroyed Dad. And now you work for him."

Vienna's hands were shaking. She pressed them between her knees.

"I did not know," she said. "I swear to you, Silas. I did not know."

"Now you do." He leaned back against his pillows, exhausted from the outburst. "Quit."

"What?"

"Quit the job. Find something else. I do not care if it pays less. I do not care if we have to sell everything. I will not have you working for that man."

Vienna thought about the hospital bills, already paid. She thought about the medication, the treatments, the experimental trials that had given Silas an extra year of life. She thought about the money in her bank account, the money from the auction, the money she could not explain without confessing everything.

She could not quit.

"I will think about it," she said.

"Think fast." Silas closed his eyes. "Because every day you spend in that building, you are spitting on Dad's grave."

He turned his face to the wall.

Vienna sat on the couch in the dark and listened to her brother breathe. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to call Ezra and demand the truth.

But she did none of those things.

She lay down on the couch, pulled a blanket over her body, and stared at the ceiling until exhaustion finally pulled her under.

---

The next morning, she arrived at work an hour early.

Ezra was already there.

He stood by the window in his office, coffee mug in hand, watching the sunrise. He had not heard her come in. She stood at her desk, watching him through the glass, and tried to reconcile the man in the suit with the monster her brother had described.

Ezra turned. He saw her. His expression did not change, but he set down his mug and walked to his door.

"You are early," he said.

"I need to ask you something."

"Come in."

She walked into his office and closed the door behind her. She did not sit. She stood in the center of the room, her arms crossed over her chest, and looked him in the eye.

"My father worked for you," she said. "Fifteen years ago. His name was Marcus Cross."

Ezra's face went pale.

"Say something," she demanded.

"Marcus was your father?"

"Was. He is dead now. He died of a heart attack when I was twelve. My brother says you killed him."

Ezra sat down heavily in his chair. He rubbed his face with both hands, and when he looked up again, his eyes were tired.

"Your father was a good man," he said. "One of the best engineers I have ever known. And he was right about the project. I should have listened to him."

"Then why did not you?"

"Because I was young. Because I was arrogant. Because I had investors screaming at me and a board of directors threatening to fire me if I missed another deadline." He leaned forward. "I made a mistake, Vienna. A terrible mistake. And your father paid the price."

"You fired him."

"I had no choice. The board demanded a scapegoat. I could either fire Marcus or let the entire company collapse and take three hundred jobs with it. I chose the lesser evil. I have regretted it every single day since."

Vienna's throat burned. "That is not good enough."

"No," he agreed. "It is not. Nothing I say will bring your father back. Nothing I say will undo the damage I caused your family. But I have spent fifteen years trying to make amends. I have donated to heart research in his name. I have funded scholarships for engineering students. I have tried to be a better man."

"None of that helps Silas."

"No. It does not." He stood and walked around the desk. He stopped in front of her, close but not touching. "I cannot change the past. But I can tell you the truth. Your brother blames me for everything, and maybe he is right. But I did not kill your father, Vienna. I made a business decision that had terrible consequences. There is a difference."

She wanted to believe him.

She wanted to hate him.

She wanted to walk out of this office and never look back.

But she stood there, frozen, caught between the brother who needed her and the man who had held her while she cried.

"What do you want from me?" she asked.

Ezra's hand came up to her face. He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear she had not realized had fallen.

"I want you to stay," he said. "I want you to give me a chance to prove that I am not the monster your brother believes me to be. And I want you to make your own decision about who I am, based on what you see, not what you have been told."

"That is a lot to ask."

"I know." He dropped his hand. "Take the day. Think about it. If you want to quit, I will not stop you. I will give you a glowing reference and a month of severance and you will never have to see me again."

He walked back to his desk and sat down. He picked up his coffee mug and stared at the screen of his computer, dismissing her.

Vienna stood there for a long moment.

Then she walked out of his office, sat down at her desk, and opened her calendar.

She did not quit.

She did not know if that made her strong or stupid or something in between.

But she stayed.