Page 31 of My Brother's Billionaire Best Friends
The scotch isn’t what I want. I’m craving something I’ve never let myself want before.
Not just her. But a whole life with her.
The kids in the photo on her desk. Her laughter in my kitchen. Her hair on my pillow. Her voice at the end of every goddamn day asking me how I’m doing and meaning it. Something real.
I never let myself want that. And now it’s all I can think about.
8
HARRISON
There are bad mornings,and then there’s this one.
I’m on my third espresso by the time Bryce Aoki shows up. She’s not on the calendar, which pisses off our front desk—but Bryce doesn’t give a shit about protocol. She never has.
She walks in wearing black silk pants, platform boots, a cherry red jacket, and the kind of oversized sunglasses that scream “try me.” Her nails are long, sharp, and painted matte black. There’s a sleek briefcase in her left hand and a flash drive between two fingers in her right.
Never a good sign.
“Got five minutes?” she says, breezing into my office like she owns the place.
“For you?” I stand and gesture toward the chair. “Always.”
Bryce has been one of VT’s highest-profile clients for two years. She runs a luxury beauty brand that started as YouTube tutorials and now brings in eight figures annually. She’s blunt, brilliant,and has the reputation of making grown men cry in marketing meetings. I respect the hell out of her.
But today, her mouth is tight and her brow is drawn, and that makes my stomach clench. She hands me the flash drive. “You’ll want to listen to that. Now.”
I plug it into the laptop on my desk without asking questions. There’s only one file—audio, no label. I hit play.
Bryce. “So what exactly are you suggesting, Vanessa?”
And then, her. Vanessa Glass. Cool. Confident. Voice like chilled white wine. “Gavin’s good at what he does, but he’s in over his head here. He’s too close to the problem, and that makes him useless to you. He’ll be too preoccupied with this to focus on clients. I’m saying if VT can’t even protecttheir own CEOfrom this embarrassment, how are they going to protect you?”
Bryce’s voice is calm. “You think they can’t?”
“I think VT isn’t the same company it was under Vivian Thatcher. I think you know that, and I think you’re wondering what it would look like to be the lead client on a roster that still gives a damn.”
Then a soft laugh.
“I’m just offering options, Bryce.”
“I have a firm. Thanks.”
The recording ends.
I close the laptop. My jaw’s already tight. “You were recording?”
Bryce shrugs. “You remember our last contract meeting? I said I’d be recording all verbal business discussions from that point forward. You agreed.”
My memory jogs. “Right. Liability clause.”
“Yep. Comes in handy.”
I nod once, trying to keep my voice calm. “Appreciate you bringing it to me.”
“I like working with VT,” she says. “But I also like to know what I’m dealing with.”
“Understood.”
