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As I grab my wallet and phone, I feel vibrating in my hand and realize I’m getting a call. It’s my brother. No surprise, he’s probably just trying to control this deal and how I handle it.
I love my family, but their lack of trust in my abilities really boils my blood.
I hit the silence button — I’ll call him back after the meeting, let him know just how well it went without his help. I head out the door, feeling confident and almost smug.
I arrive at the posh bar where our business contacts decided to meet and slip through the door like a shadow. The cute little redhead at the hostess desk gives me a simpering look when I walk up to greet her.
I tell her who I have come to meet with, and she leads me to a private room at the back of the establishment with a phenomenal view of the city through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
I watch her plump ass swaying as she walks in front of me, and I muse on the thought of yanking her into one of the other rooms along the way to have my way with her.
I shake the thought away, however. That kind of distracted thinking is exactly why my brother doesn’t trust me.
Stop thinking with your cock and your fists, Luca, he has said to me more than once.
I pull my shoulders back and settle for giving the redhead a wink before I saunter into the room she has led me to. I ignore her disappointed pout.
Pretty girls are a dime a dozen. She doesn’t matter to me.
The meeting does go well.
These men are no pushovers, but with a little charm, and a lot of liquor, they are reasonable. I have a good list of negotiations to take back to the family so we can set this all in motion.
After they've left I throw back a few extra celebratory drinks before heading back to my room.
As I stumble back into my room, I knock my knee on the table in the hallway and swear loudly. I kick it over and feel an immense amount of satisfaction when it crashes over with a loud noise, sending the vase of flowers on top of it down to shatter on the marble floor.
My watch says it’s almost midnight, but I’m riding a wave of pride at how I just handled this meeting and I feel like I could go another twenty-four hours without sleep.
It’s never easy, navigating negotiations while building trust, and keeping my wits about me. But contrary to what my brother believes, I am just as capable as he is.
If he tries to dispute my abilities after this trip, I’ll laugh in his face. My sister also thinks I can't do this work, although she’s usually quicker to give me the benefit of the doubt.
Thinking of my siblings reminds me to call my brother back. I can tell him his worries about my ability to handle this meeting weren’t necessary.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I see he’s tried to call me five more times. It just shows how hard he finds it to let go of the reins.
I feel a rush of resentment at this proof that he doesn’t trust me at all.
He sent me here; why won’t he just let me do my thing? Because he still sees me as his kid brother. That's why. I know the reason, but it still annoys the shit out of me.
It’s late, but I know he’ll still be awake. I find his contact in my phone and press the call button. “Fuck him,” I mutter to myself with annoyance. I let myself into my hotel room and kick the door shut behind me.
My brother answers almost before the first ring. “Jesus, Luca, where the fuck have you been?” He’s yelling into the phone, so I move it away from my ear and put it on speaker.
“Calm down, man, fuck. I was in the meeting I told you about and put my phone on silent. I just saw your missed calls now.” I'm lying, but his anger is not something I want to be dealing with right now.
“Okay, well in the future, wherever the fuck you are, and whatever the fuck you’re doing, you keep your phone on. Got it?”
I sigh. “Got it.” It’s an old rule — keep yourself available at all times in case of issues.
The logical part of me knows why but I don’t like the pressure of knowing other people can reach me whenever they want to.
“Ok.”
He sighs and his tone changes from agitation to something I can’t really place. “You need to come home.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ve only got two more meetings to do tomorrow, and then I’m wrapping it up and coming home. I’ll be there by Wednesday.” I gave him my itinerary before I left, so he knows this.
