Page 16 of The Wrong Brother

A mixture of anger and confusion coils in my chest. It’s exactly what I wanted…a chance to leave, to make something of myself, and yet… there’s this nagging doubt, this sense that he’s orchestrating everything, even this, pulling strings just to keep me at a distance, out of his brother’s life.

“Isn’t this you just trying to send me away?” I ask. “A different city, a job. Maybe you hope it will make me forget Brett?”

“Jenny ”, he calls. “Believe it or not I have very little interest in your … attachment to Brett.” He says this so seriously I’m almost compelled to respond.

His words cut deeper than I expect, but I swallow the sting. The truth is, I do need this. I want to build a modeling career,to make something of myself, and yes, the money would help. It would help me move back to the city and find my own place, far from all this tension, from the suffocating control Zack has over everything.

“What about Brett?” The question slips out, softer than I intended, betraying the raw edge of my worry. “I… I can’t leave without knowing how he’s doing.”

Zack’s eyes narrow slightly, the flicker of a smirk gone, replaced by something colder. “Brett?” he repeats, as if savoring the name on his tongue. He picks up his coffee and tablet once again and lets out a low sigh, the sound full of controlled irritation. “Let’s be honest, Jenny. If Brett wanted to see you, he would have reached out by now. He knows exactly where you are.”

The same thing my father said!

I feel my fists clench by my sides. “Fine. And about the contract?” I ask, trying to steer the conversation back to something I can control, something concrete. “How long would it be for?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “That’s up to Tod’s but from what I hear may be a month or two. You can choose to accept it or reject it when we arrive. No one’s forcing you, Jenny.” His gaze pierces into me, his words hanging in the air like a challenge.

I hesitate, my resolve weakening under his scrutiny. This is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for, but it feels like a poisoned apple, tempting and dangerous.

“Okay,” I say.

For a moment, he’s silent, his gaze flickering with something unreadable, something almost… admiring? But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by that cold, calculating expression. He nods, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Good,” he murmurs. “I’ll let them know and they’ll reach out to you.”

He turns back to his tablet, dismissing me with a flick of his hand, but I stay rooted to the spot, the weight of our exchange pressing down on me. Determined, I turn on my heel, leaving the conservatory, my heart pounding. I’ve made my choice, and no matter what Zack throws at me, I’ll find my own way, on my own terms.

Chapter

Twelve

ZACK

Ihave never met anyone as aggravating as her. This isn’t new…Jenny’s always had a way of getting under my skin. But what is new, or at least what I’d like to pretend is, is the fact that she’s driving me out of my mind. Once again, she’s left me rock hard, and all she did was stand there in the conservatory, arguing, defiant as ever. Watching her, I couldn’t shake last night’s image, that intoxicating scene in the conservatory playing out in my head over and over.

All I could think about was how perfect she’d look bent over, her anger fueling something darker, something primal. Damn it. This should be easy…she’s a distraction, nothing more, a current thorn in my side. But every time I’m around her, that restraint gets harder to hold on to. I can barely stand to sit through breakfast, each bite reminding me of how she tasted in that kiss, of the scent that lingered in my head far longer than it should have.

Finally, I push the plate away, barely touched, and get up, striding out of the house without so much as a backward glance. I don’t need to be surrounded by her scent, her memory, this entire house I’m realizing now more than ever, is filled with memories of her. We were worlds apart, but the fact is that we both grew up here so memories of brief glances and sightings daily reels through my mind. In the car, I dial my secretary, needing something concrete, something to snap me out of this absurd state.

As soon as she picks up, I don’t waste time. “Update me on the Tod’s contract,” I say, my tone clipped.

“Yes, Mr. Jackson,” she replies smoothly, the sound of clicking keys filling the brief silence as she pulls up the file. “The modeling contract is a six-month initial term with options to renew every three months. It includes a minimum of four campaigns for their upcoming collection. They’re covering accommodation expenses, a monthly salary, and a significant bonus based on performance.”

I absorb the details, settling into the comfort of business strategy. Part of me knows this arrangement serves my purpose…keeping her occupied, focused elsewhere, away from any risks she could stir up here. But despite my original plan, I can’t shake the need to ensure she’s treated well.

“Add a stipulation,” I say, my voice softening slightly, though I mask it with a cough. “Make sure she isn’t overworked. I want scheduled breaks, enough to allow her travel time back to New York once a month.”

There’s a pause on the other end, but my secretary quickly masks her surprise. “Understood, Mr. Jackson. I’ll also add a termination clause, allowing her the option to end the contract at any time.”

“Good,” I murmur, clearing my throat as if dismissing the sentiment beneath my instructions. “And ensure she haseverything she needs. No skimping on accommodations or resources.”

“Yes, Sir,” she responds, her tone efficient. I can hear her typing, finalizing the amendments.

As I end the call, I lean back, exhaling slowly. It’s just business, I remind myself. I’m doing this to ensure she is properly occupied enough to forget about her nonsense infatuation with Brett. But deep down, I know I’m not as indifferent as I pretend to be. And that, more than anything, is the problem.

“What’s my schedule like for the rest of the week?” I ask, already calculating.

My secretary's voice is crisp, unfazed by the urgency in mine. “Tomorrow, you have back-to-back site meetings in Manhattan, starting at 9:00 a.m. The first is with Richard Lawson and his team to review updates on the Midtown project’s architectural details. They’re pushing hard to finalize the floor-to-ceiling glass specifications and lighting strategy.”

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