Page 22 of The Rules Of Attraction
Chapter 4
Alex
* * *
Bradford Sullivan loved to hear the sound of his own voice.
I’d heard it my whole life, heard it in my sleep and waking hours.
Heard it when he was mad at me, definitely mad at me. Annoyed, furious, had enough of my ass making him look bad, had enough of my ass outsmarting him, had enough of me being me.
I got it.
Even I knew that I was an acquired taste. The only person to truly get me was my mom, my mediator, but since she would be away for nearly two months teaching art in France, I had to deal with him.
Him, my father, the great Bradford Sullivan of Sullivan’s, one of the top ten law firms in the country and a global empire eager to make its mark.
The firm began with my great, great, grandfather, and had been handed down to the Sullivan men ever since who lived up to the renowned name everyone knew.
My father always started his lectures with a reminder of that, as if I didn’t know. Then he followed by highlighting how much hard work he and my two uncles put in to the company, and since we ran the flagship branch the onus was on us to set a high example.
I was growing tired of being treated like a child, or like some reckless teenager who didn’t have his head screwed on.
My father was nearly sixty-five and looking to retire soon. He should have done so already, according to his previous plans but hadn’t because of me.
It was my fault.
One hour and a half.
That was how long I’d sat in his office listening to this. With him behind his grand desk, and me on the opposite side doing my best not to wither away.
Jesus. I didn’t know what I’d done to deserve this.
I worked so hard.
My older brother, Preston was the apple of his eye. The favorite, the perfect one. The man my father wanted to run the place. It was why he’d made Preston one of the senior partners, right there alongside him, and not me.
However, Preston couldn’t run the place by himself and dad didn’t trust that I was ready to join the partnership.
I had to jump through hoops, but I still displeased him. Nothing was ever good enough.
It didn’t matter what I did or how well I did it.
It didn’t matter that I came with more areas of specialty than my brother. Or, that a lot of those areas were niche, opening up more business opportunities for us as a firm.
My knowledge, talents, and skills surpassed both of them. Both my father and my brother. Neither of them could hold a fucking candle to me.
So why was I just a mere senior associate, while my father had given my brother all the power?
Apparently dad thought that I, a man of thirty two years old, had no regard for authority, showed lack of professionalism, and had thisdon’t careattitude that didn’t fit the firm’s ethos.
I’d sat here in the four grand walls of his office for an hour listening to him blow off all his fury at me.
“Are you even listening?” He balked, looking more flustered. His bright blue eyes bore into me.
“I’m looking at you aren’t I?” I shot back.
“I don’t understand why you would do such a good job on the case and then ruin it by making us look bad.”
