Page 79 of Beyond Expectations
***
I hit the ground running. I knew I couldn’t stop because I knew my body would give in as soon as I did. I’d been up for almost two days with no sleep. I was having meeting after meeting. I called people in, asking them to give me up-to-date reports on their departments. In more than one meeting, I lost my temper.
By the end of the day, everyone was walking on eggshells around me. Earlier, I’d gotten calls from my mother and sisters asking if I was okay. I reassured them I was fine, stating I needed to return to work. They tried to persuade me to leave. Each one took turns trying to convince me to go home and grieve. I let them know I’d leave the office as soon as possible. And that they should rest, and my sisters should focus on our mother.
Serena tried to call me a few times, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer her calls. I still didn’t know what to say. Or how I would feel or act around her. She was always so strong. She was sure of who she was, what she wanted in life, and what she wanted to achieve. I felt the polar opposite and that was a side I didn’t want her to witness. For now, I needed to keep her at arm’s length.
I finally called Russell to pick me up at four. I could feel both my mind and body shutting down. Sitting in the back of the car, I heard my phone go off and retrieved it from my jacket pocket.
I am so sorry for your loss. Ruby told me what happened. I am truly deeply sorry. If you need your space, I understand. I will always be here if you need me.
Serena
X
I read and re-read her message countless times by the time I got back to my apartment. I felt a sense of guilt that I hadn’t spoken to her. Even just to tell her what happened. It couldn’t have been nice for her to find out from her best friend.
Fuck!
Everything was so goddamn messed up.
***
I slept through from Friday to Saturday evening. When I woke, I called my mom to see how she was coping. She and Carter had already arranged most of the funeral. As it turned out, my father already paid and planned for almost everything. It wasn’t surprising how organized he was.
Was.
It felt weird thinking about him in the past tense.
The funeral was going to be on Tuesday at St Andrew’s church, followed by a wake at mother’s house. I let her know I was there for her should she need me. I ordered takeout and washed that down with a whole bottle of whiskey. I passed out on my couch and only woke up again Sunday afternoon.
I worked in my home office for a few hours, took a shower, ordered more takeout, followed it with some beers, and then was in bed by nine. Going to bed so early felt weird, as I usually only needed four to five hours of sleep a night. But things were different now. It was as if my body couldn’t manage me being up for more than a few hours before I needed to rest again.
Monday morning hit me like a freight train. It felt like I endured the worst hangover known to man. Everything felt painful. Walking, talking, even breathing.
Charlotte had been overly attentive all morning. It was beginning to drive me insane. I hated the way everyone looked at me, always watching. Like they were waiting to see if I would cry, break down, or bite their head off.
Everyone was making me angry.
I called every department one by one. It was vital for me to be in control and work was the one thing I could control. Some of my staff seem surprised by my sudden interest in every department. Now that I owned the building. The company. I was now fully responsible.
Everything rested upon my shoulders.
One thing I knew when I found out my father had left it to me was that I would be running a very tight ship. I wanted to know where my company stood in every division and sector.
This was my father’s legacy, his father’s, and his before him. Each generation turned it into something bigger and better than they had inherited. Now, it was my turn to show my father he’d been right to trust me. I needed to make him proud.
At around three in the afternoon, Charlotte came running into my office.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes, Mr. Chambers. I’m sorry. I wanted to know whether to call security. I… um. It’s your brother. I think he’s drunk. He stumbled out of the elevator, and I tried to help him to his feet… but I think he got the wrong idea.”
I suddenly saw that she was holding her shirt closed and that her skirt had a tear down it. My blood boiled as my fists were tightly clenched.
“Did he hurt you?” I growled.
“I think he got the wrong idea. He tried to pull me into him, holding onto my blouse and skirt. I tried to brush him off, but he wouldn’t let go and kept a hold of them. As I pulled away, my clothes tore. He’s currently sitting on my desk. He also has a bottle of something in his hand. I’m sorry, Mr. Chambers.”
