The First Rule by Nicole S. Goodin

23

Jacob

The door closesbehind me and I glance down the staircase to check I’m alone before hitting the green answer button on my cell and then the speaker icon so I can peruse the stock market while Mark chews my ear off.

“Maaaccccaaa,” I drawl as I answer.

“Where the fuck have you been, Steele? I’ve been calling.”

He’s been calling alright. Every fucking weekend – in his defence, it’s been too long since I hit the clubs with the boys.

“Had to take care of some bullshit at home,” I grunt.

“Yeah, what the hell is going on with you and Darcy? Andy said you two were back together or some shit.”

“She’s pregnant,” I reply.

“Who? The stripper from your buck’s night?” he jokes with a laugh.

I smirk. “Fuck no, bro, that’s not a mistake I’d make twice. Darcy. She’s knocked up. Big time.”

He whistles long and low.

“How’d you manage that?”

I huff out a laugh. “I didn’t. My good-for-nothing fucking brother did, but I’ve found a way to use it to my advantage.”

“No fucking way! Write-off Ryan… I didn’t think that fucker would have the balls.”

“Neither did I, but it’s worked out well for me. My old man is riding me about getting her back, and now here is she. Problem solved, and now I can finally get him out from behind that desk.”

“It’ll be your shout when that day comes.”

I chuckle. Macca and the boys aren’t like the pompous pricks I deal with every day. I lose brain cells every time I hang out with them, but it’s worth it for the few hours of madness.

I hear a noise from a lower level, and I crane my neck over the railing to see who’s there. All I see is an empty landing. There’s no one there. I should wrap this shit up regardless; I’ve got far more important matters that require my attention.

“I’ll talk to you later,” I tell Macca. “Count me in for this Friday night.”

“You fucking better show,” he replies before hanging up on me.

I glance over the railing once more before exiting the stairwell and getting back to work.