Playing Pretend by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

Nine

Liam

I’m startingmy third mile, my feet pounding against the rubber, when I hear two of my knucklehead younger brothers enter the gym. The stench of cigar smoke and stale sweat instantly assault my nasal passages. In a heartbeat, Andrew and Anthony are flanking me on the neighboring treadmills.

“What do you losers want?” I ask, eyes straight ahead as I squirt a shot of water into my mouth.

There’s a reason I snuck in through the building’s back entrance before the crack of dawn today. I need to burn off this irritating feeling that’s been buzzing under my skin. So far, it hasn’t waned any.

“Long night. We were on our way home. Saw your car out back. Knew you were in here trying to show us up,” Andrew quips jogging alongside me.

He’s dressed in head-to-toe designer brands. A black and gold silk button down shirt. Matching shorts. Custom sneakers. A layer of bulky gold chains around his neck.

He might as well have a sign that says ‘Please mug me,’ taped to his skinny back.

I grunt. “By ‘trying to show you up’, do you mean that I’m leading the life of a responsible, productive adult member of society?”

“Being a responsible, productive adult member of society is overrated,” Andrew informs me, his nose turned up in disgust.

“And boring,” Anthony adds, sliding on his designer sunglasses before powering up his own machine.

“Right.” I push out a grumble.

Tony looks just as ridiculous as his identical twin, in a half-buttoned floral patterned linen shirt. His balls cannot be living their best lives with the way he’s jogging in those tight ass jeans.

These two idiots go around without a care in the world, while I’m drowning over here. Must be nice having a billionaire older brother to mooch off of.

I opened this gym a few months ago to give them something to do, to keep them out of trouble. They thanked me by delegating all their work to a bunch of incompetent staffers they hired. Meanwhile, the twins continue to party every night away and sleep well into the afternoon.

They’re twenty-three now. I’m gonna have to cut the purse strings and let them self-destruct soon enough.

We run together for another mile, my annoying brothers gabbing like chicks around me about all the fun they had last night.

I stab a button on the machine, increasing my speed. But nothing is quelling this anxiousness zipping around inside my body.

“What’s your deal?” Tony asks, eyeing me skeptically. “Your old ass never goes over four miles an hour.”

My gaze flicks downward, revealing I’m well past nine now. Shit.

I drop it down a notch before I kill myself.

“He’s right,” Drew pipes up. “What crawled up your ass?”

“I need to find a new secretary,” I hear myself blurt out. I’m confiding in my idiot brothers. That’s how I know I’m desperate.

“Dude. What about that little bombshell you just hired?” Tony asks.

“She had to go,” I mutter. The mere mention of Eliza turns the volume way up on my anxiety.

“That’s too bad.” Anthony shakes his head. “I met her once. Shit. That woman is like a mermaid, unicorn, pink Power Ranger, Scarlett Johansen hybrid. With curves.”

Andrew’s interest is piqued. “You had me at Scarlett Johansen! I like where this is going.”

Tony leans around me to gossip to his twin. “You know that one movie with the—”

“Could we not fucking go there?” I growl.

“Oh, touchy, touchy.” Andrew cackles like a hyena, and I can’t help but hope his ass trips and flips off the treadmill.

I punch the stop button, bringing my exercise machine to an abrupt halt. If I stay here another moment, my fist is going to end up in one of my brothers’ ugly faces. Or maybe both.

Drew chuckles. “Come on, Liam. We’re just trying to push your buttons.”

“Well, consider them pushed. Congratulations.” I grab my towel and water bottle.

I stomp over to the bench press, hoping for a moment of peace, although I can still hear my brothers bullshitting about me behind my back. I pile on the weights and recline on the bench, attempting some deep mindful breathing to gain a sense of control. I listened to a podcast about that a few weeks ago.

I don’t think I’m doing it right, because I’m still mad as shit.

It’s not even my brothers pissing me off, really. It’s me. It’s the whole situation I’ve stupidly gotten myself into.

It’s knowing that tomorrow morning, I’ll go back to the office and Eliza won’t be there. She’s gone for no good reason and it’s all my fault.

I manage to get through a handful of reps before my brothers show up, hovering over me on the weight bench.

Damn these assholes.

“You’re gonna kill yourself with that much weight. Quit being an ass and let me spot for you,” Andrew says as he valiantly takes over to do the job nobody asked him to do.

I bring the bar down to my chest and thrust it forward. Again and again, until my arms burn.

The two of them share meaningful glances, doing that annoying telepathic twin thing they always do. “What aren’t you telling us, asshole? Why exactly did you fire her?” Anthony finally asks.

“Eliza was…a distraction,” I grit out.

Andrew smirks. “Translation—she was hot as fuck. You could hardly keep your hands off her. Couldn’t stop thinking about her, huh? Bet it drove your ass crazy.”

“Control freak,” Tony snorts.

“The two of you are so fucking funny,” I say bitterly. “Maybe you could take your comic talents to open mic night at the Comedy Ville. Make some extra cash. So you won’t have to come begging me for handouts when this empty-ass gym of yours goes belly up.”

Andrew’s face goes serious in an instant. “Let’s not start getting crazy, okay? I’m in a very fragile place emotionally since my last break up.”

Tony claps a hand on Drew’s shoulder in support. “Liam, your passive aggressive comments are bogging down our auras right now.”

I ignore their melodrama. “I’m running a billion dollar empire here.” I keep pushing the bar as frustration fills my chest all over again. “I need a good secretary. Someone who’s reliable.” Someone who doesn’t leave me with an eternal case of tingling blue balls.

Anthony pipes up from somewhere outside my peripheral. “Then hire her back.”

My arms quiver and threaten to give out when he says that. I manage to shove the bar high enough to drop it in the stand. I sit up and grab my bottle, spraying cool water all over my face. “I fired her.” I bite out.

Anthony glares at me. “Let me refine that statement. Swallow your pride and hire her back. Ask her nicely if she’ll come back to work for you.”

I shut the door on that idea quickly. I get to my feet, shaking my head. “Nah. Not gonna happen.”

I fired her. There’s no way I’ll be going back, begging for seconds.

Even though I’ve got to admit that having her back at Kline-Simmons would solve a lot of my problems. Firstly, I’d finally have an efficient assistant again, one who doesn’t interrupt me a million times a day with banal fucking questions. It would also rid me of all the guilt I’ve been carrying around over having fired her for no reason.

…Also, I wouldn’t have to miss her so fucking much, an unfamiliar voice deep, deep in my mind says.

And that’s precisely why I can’t hire her back. The woman is interfering with my sanity.

As tempting as it may be to have Eliza in my employ, I have a long-term plan, a vision for my company, and it doesn’t involve a chocolate-eyed, feisty-mouthed, hot-as-fuck distraction.

Plus, I’m pretty sure if I offered her her old job back, she’d give me a hard time just for the heck of it and I’m not about to be begging some lowly administrative assistant to give me the time of day.

I address my brothers. “I’ve already wasted enough time talking about this mess. Continuing this discussion is pointless.” I charge toward the locker room to change.

Anthony catches up to me. “Don’t be a stubborn asshole.”

“As usual,” Andrew throws in from across the room. He makes his final plea. “Talk to her, Liam. You need her.”

“Not happening.”

No goddamn way.

She used to be my assistant. Now, she’s not.

It’s time to put Eliza Jenkins out of my mind.