Stepbrother Reunion: A Billionaire Stepbrother Romance Read online




  Stepbrother

  Reunion

  by

  Stephanie Brother

  © 2015 Stephanie Brother

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.

  Please note that this work is intended only for adults over the age of 18 and all characters represented as 18 or over.

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  I barely even remember those years. I remember Mom and Ryan getting married. It didn't mean much to me at the time. I was only 7.

  Ryan was just a nice man who hung out with Mom at the house and brought me stuffed animals and candy bars. When Mom said he was going to be my new dad, I thought that was just fine.

  When Ryan moved in with us, he brought Micheal. Michael was 10 at the time. I remember being excited about getting a brother. Being an only child had been boring and I thought a new sibling-- any sibling-- would be a built in play mate.

  Mom and Ryan didn't work out though. They split up just a few years later when I was 12, just before I started junior high. Ryan moved out and Michael moved out with him.

  I remember Michael was really upset. The last thing I remember about Michael was being wrapped in his arms and thinking that nothing bad could happen to me as long as I stayed there.

  I was sad but Michael was taking it really hard. I didn't really understand why. I knew he would miss me, but there was always email if he really wanted to keep in touch.

  But he didn't keep in touch. I don't remember ever hearing from him again. I started seventh grade and life went on.

  I never really knew what went wrong between Mom and Ryan, but Mom had a hard time financially after Ryan and Michael moved out. She went through a series of low paying jobs that never quite seemed to pay all the bills we had. She got me through high school but she made it clear that if I expected to go to college, I'd have to make it happen on my own dime.

  Which is how I got here. I worked 2 jobs and paid for all my general education credits at the local community college with some help from Financial Aid and a handful of small grants, but when it came time to transfer to a four-year school for my Bachelor's degree, it was clear there was no way it was going to happen without taking out a student loan.

  The nearest 4-year college to Centerville was 250 miles away. Too far to keep living at home and drive every day. I went ahead and applied to the school I really wanted to go to-- a small, private college that offered the degree program in environmental conservation that I was interested in and had dormitories where I could live cheaply.

  I was determined to finish my degree in 2 years, which meant undertaking tough loads of 20+ units a semester. Within the first quarter, it was clear that I could not keep my GPA up and still work on the side.

  So much for gas and nights out with friends. I sold my car for a bicycle and lived off of freeze-dried ramen noodles-- and more student loans.

  I did manage to graduate in 2 years with a 3.9 GPA, but I found myself hitting the want ads already in debt for nearly 100,000 dollars with only 6 months before those payments started coming due.

  I moved in with Rob after graduation. Partly because we'd been dating since meeting early our senior year, and partly because it meant saving on rent and other household bills. Rob worked with a small ecology activist group. He didn't get paid much, but he really felt he was making a difference there, and at least he could afford his half of the bills. And some of mine, which really helped.

  I took a job in a local organic market down the street from our apartment. It paid minimum wage, but at least it paid something while I kept sending in resume after resume for jobs in my field.

  I thought fighting to save the planet was a hot field to get into and something that I really did feel strongly about, but no one was hiring.

  Then Rob lost his job. The non-profit lost their grant and his paid position disappeared with it. He didn't want to stop working with them, so he stayed on a voluntary basis but that left me in charge of covering all our expenses on less than $300 a week and my student loan bills would start coming in another couple of months. I had to do something fast!

  That's where I was in life when I found the position for Outdoor Recreation, Inc.

  I'd already given up hope of finding a job in my field any time soon and had long since started applying for administrative professional and assistant positions. I had no problem getting the interviews, but every time they got to the point where they saw my degree, I was politely dismissed with the explanation that I was "over qualified."

  What the fuck is that about?

  ORI looked good. Outdoor recreation was right up my alley. Hikers are notorious for their eco-mindedness. At least it would be the sort of company that would look good on my resume and maybe I could even get a decent letter of reference out of it.

  It also paid very well for an administrative assistant position. We wouldn't be moving out of our one bedroom apartment or taking any big vacations, but Rob and I would be able to continue our current lifestyle and, most importantly, I'd be able to cover my student loan bills without having to go back to living off of ramen.

  I carefully "spruced up" my resume before sending it in to ORI. And by "spruced up," I really meant that I deleted all references to my bachelor's degree. I left the mention of my community college under the portion titled "education." I wanted to appear educated-- but not "over qualified."

  I emailed the application and resume and wasn't too surprised when I got the call a few days later about setting up an interview. They started with a phone interview, then asked for an in person interview.

  I found myself sitting across from Mr. Tyson Neill, Executive Vice President of Research and Development. He was a good looking guy in his early 60s with tanned skin and lots of crinkles by his eyes when he smiled which he did often. His hair was thick and mostly gray, he wore it cut short on the sides with just enough length on top for it to flop to one side in a rakish sort of "I don't give a fuck" wave.

  He greeted me with a solid hand shake and a glass of ice water before sitting down in the chair next to me instead of on the other side of his desk. Which seemed like he was trying for a casual feel, but made me extra nervous since he was much closer to me.

  It didn't take long for us to fall into easy conversation though, and I didn't feel like I was being interviewed so much as just having a conversation with a nice gentleman who wanted to know all about my work ethic.

  25 minutes later I was shaking hands with Tyson as he escorted me from his office and giving me directions to HR for my hiring packet.

  Wow.

  I did it! I got the job. I was employed! Hallelujah.

  ***

  I was so excited about the new job I splurged on some fresh whole wheat pasta cheese ravioli and a bottle of wine to bring home for dinner. I even got a bouquet of fresh flowers.

  When Rob got home and found me preparing the meal, he immediately let into me.

  "Lee? What are you making?" At first he was curious, I rarely made dishes that filled the apartment with the aromas of home cooked meals. We ate a lot of boiled chicken and steamed veggies. Well, I ate a lot of boiled chicken. Rob was a vegan. He wouldn't even touch the cheese ravioli I had brought home for my celebration dinner. I was baking z
ucchini slices for his marinara sauce to go over.

  "Cheese tortellini from Watson's Market for me, and baked zucchini with marinara for you." I said sweetly in a sing-songy voice that gave away my good news before I could articulate it.

  "I take it you got the job then?" Rob's tone sounded almost sarcastic and not at all supportive. It kinda hit me in the gut and deflated a lot of my enthusiasm. "Lee-- you know that place is run by the Devil, right?" Rob demeaned as he picked up a slice of raw squash and slid the disk in his mouth.

  "Um. What?" I honestly had no idea what the hell he was taking about. "ORI? Outdoor Recreation, Incorporated? It's run by 'the Devil?' "

  "Yeah." He stated matter of factly, "Tristan Powell owns that place. He's an asshole. He spends millions of dollars on special interests trying to keep land open for dirt bikes and snow mobiles. He's the enemy of the earth. I can't believe you'd even think about working for that jerk."

  Tristan Powell...Tristan Powell... the name rolled over and over in my mind. It seemed familiar somehow.

  "Lee, I know you're really stressed about the bills and all. I get it. But you didn't have to stoop to that level. ORI." He made a snorting noise as he headed for the living room, "I can't believe you're gonna work for the enemy...and you really shouldn't have spent so much on food for dinner. That ravioli is like $16 a pound. You haven't even started working yet."

  Rob sat down at the computer in the living room and I knew he had already tuned me out. I drained the pasta and began grating some cheese over it. He was right. It was dumb to splurge on the groceries before I'd even started, even with the employee discount I got at Watson's. Not to mention, I had $162.00 in my account that had to last till my first pay check. I should have bought groceries that would last more than one meal.

  I poured a second glass of wine. Rob didn't drink either. At all. And he didn't approve of my taste for alcohol, voicing his concerns about my potential alcoholism even though I maybe had a glass or two of wine with dinner once a month.

  I sighed deeply as I continued my meal prep in the tiny kitchen, a little less enthusiastically than before. I guess it was going to be just me at the kitchen table for dinner tonight. Looked like my sweetie was going to spend another evening eating at the computer.

  I admit I hadn't looked into ORI before applying for the job. I had been thinking outdoor recreation like backpacking or other low-environmental impact activities. Kayaking, or maybe Ultimate Frisbee. Hearing that the company dealt with motor sports like snowmobiles and dirt bikes kinda took the wind out of my sails. I was less excited about being a part of those destructive hobbies, but I needed the job.

  I took Rob's plate to him in the living room and then sat down at the table and absently began opening the day's mail while lifting the soft ravioli to my mouth with my other hand. Electric bill, gas bill, cable bill-- we didn't watch much TV but Rob insisted that anything slower than cable internet was prehistoric-- Rob's credit card bill. Ugh. I opened it even though it was addressed to Rob. I'd been paying it for the last 3 months since he'd lost his paid position. He'd never had any problem with me opening his mail, so I went ahead and split the envelope open.

  Last month the balance had been $300 or so, the minimum payments had been very easy to keep up with. The bill I found myself looking at now said the new balance was $6,352. With a minimum payment due of just over $200. I almost dropped my fork.

  Rob had ordered over six thousand dollars worth of stuff from a mineral company in South America. I didn't understand what he'd ordered or why he would rack up such a crazy balance when he knew I was the one who was covering his bills.

  He just waved my questions off, saying it was "no bid deal" and that he "would take care of it." He wouldn't tell me what he'd ordered exactly or what it was for, he just said it was for a project the non-profit was working on and that it wasn't any of my business.

  ***

  I still had 2 more weeks before I'd get my first paycheck and I couldn't stop worrying about Rob's credit card bill. I didn't know if it bothered me more than I was expected to cover the payment, or that he wouldn't explain why-- or what-- he had ordered from the place.

  I got a little lesson on the history of ORI from my new boss: Tristan Powell had started the company at the tender age of 19 after not being able to find a tent on the market that suited his needs. Apparently he was an avid traveler, not just backpacking but mountaineering and motorcycling too, and he had ended up creating his own design after not being able to find what he was looking for.

  Other people had wanted his design and he went into the tent making business. Then the tent making business turned into a full scale outdoor gear business when hikers wanted some of the things that were commonly used by motorcycle nomads and motorcycle nomads wanted some of the things that were popular with ultralight backpackers and before he knew it, Tristan Powell had made his first million before he was legal to drink in the US.

  It was true, Outdoor Recreation, Inc was an outspoken proponent of a vast array of noisy, polluting motor sports including, but not limited to snowmobiles, dirt bikes and ATVs, personal water craft, and a variety of experimental motorized contraptions. They also developed, manufactured, sold and sponsored all sorts of low impact stuff like backpacking, kayaking, skiing and mountaineering. Pretty much, if it got people outside, Tristan Powell thought people should do it.

  I had a hard time digesting the wide array of sports the company was involved in. It wasn't just a matter of what the company actually produced and sold, ORI was a big proponent and sponsor of events too. Which meant learning about not just the products, but where and how those products were used and by whom.

  Rob was still giving me shit about my job. Even though it was the only thing keeping a roof over his head now. He still hadn't found a new job and I was beginning to think he wasn't even looking.

  "No one's hiring." His tone was condescending, as if it went without saying. "I'm sending in resumes." He added as if that should be enough.

  "Besides, you're making enough money to support us with your blood money from Satan's toybox, right?" He snarked off at me before turning back to his online forums.

  I had stopped listening to his rants shortly after I had moved in with him. I tried to remember the enthusiastic and idealist young activist I'd fallen in love with my senior year, but I just couldn't find him in the angry, paranoid man I shared the apartment with now.

  Calling Rob my boyfriend seemed ludicrous anymore. We hadn't shared a bed in months. He'd gotten so wrapped up in this non-profit group, and it seemed like he was even more dedicated to them since he'd lost the paid position with them. He left early, came home late, and spent the rest of the night online with the same people he spent the day with.

  Even our philosophical views had diverged drastically. When we met, I was star struck by a man who was so invested in his beliefs that he had adopted the vegan lifestyle, didn't own a car-- There just aren't many people out there who have that kind of strength in their convictions. But over the last several months Rob had become more of one of those over the top paranoid activists, unwilling to weigh facts on both sides.

  I found myself disagreeing with him more and more, losing respect for his insistence on taking sides without considering all the facts. But trying to talk to Rob about that got me nowhere. He had taken to talking down to me and accusing me of "turning to the enemy," much like the flack he was giving me about my job.

  I was scheduled to be gone the following week to attend the company's annual outdoor R&D festival. Tyson was going and, as his personal secretary, I got to go with him.

  ORI did this big thing a couple times a year-- once for summer sports, once for winter sports-- where a bunch of the employees got together to test out the new lines of gear for the upcoming year. This year, we were being sent to a resort in northern Idaho for a week where people would be testing out the new winter line.

  The company was footing the bill for everyone for the whole week. I was really nervous
about going since I really didn't know much about winter sports or whatall I was getting myself into but at least it would give me and Rob and week away from each other.

  Things around the apartment had been really tense between his secretiveness about whatever project he was working on and my new job for "the devil."

  I was scheduled to fly up with Tyson on Friday afternoon. I really liked working for Tyson. He was easygoing and good humored. He kinda reminded me of Ryan-- the man my mother had been married to for a short time when I was a kid. I don't remember Ryan very well, but I do remember that he was always smiling and very kind to me. Tyson made me think of him and I had started to wonder what had ever happened to Ryan and his son, Mike, after they moved out.

  I'd been looking forward to the flight until I found out we would be flying in a tiny little plane that only sat 4 people tops. Then Tyson informed me that he wouldn't be able to go afterall. His wife had to have a minor surgical procedure-- nothing serious, he promised-- but that week was the only time she could schedule it for.

  "Don't worry, Tristan's going to fly up with you. He'll take good care of you, you'll have a blast!" Tyson ended his announcement with his customary hearty laugh and waved goodbye to me as he left the office.

  Tristan? Tristan Powell? The boss's boss? I gulped. Founder of the company Tristan Powell?

  I hadn't met Mr. Powell yet. I hadn't even seen him in the building. There were some photos of him in the hallways-- climbing mountains, backpacking, motorcycling through South America-- but I didn't think I'd ever actually meet him in person, let alone share a 4 hour flight with him in a tiny plane.

  After I got past the initial nervousness, I started thinking maybe this was a good thing. Maybe I'd be able to take advantage of the one on one time to talk to him about turning toward a more earth-responsible direction with the company?

  ***

  Rob hadn't even stayed home long enough to say goodbye before I left for the week. We'd had a really big blow out the night before about his credit card bill and his continued lack of a job. He said that since the non-profit had lost so much of its funding that everyone was kicking in their personal money for the project they were working on. Then he told me that he wasn't going to look for a job until after the project was completed.

 

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