Page 1 of Every Broken Piece
Chapter one
Gabe
“ T his isn’t what we agreed on. You need to get your ass back here and make it right.”
I lift my chin at our security guard, Dave, as I make my way through the lobby of Strong Sterling Enterprises, the heels of my dress shoes echoing across the shining marble. I press my phone to my ear while Vincent Morrow chews me a new asshole on the other end.
“We agreed that you would listen to my report after I finished my investigation.” I enter the elevator and press my palm to the reader to take me to the top floor.
“We agreed that you would fix the problem inside my company and—”
“That’s exactly what I’m doing. It’s not a problem, Vincent. It’s problem s . Plural. You hired me to discover why your company's losing money along with quality employees and I did.” I can’t help that the man doesn’t like being told that he’s the problem.
“You...” Vincent sputters. “You are an insufferable ass, Gabriel Strong, and I’m not paying you a dime. Not one red cent. You didn’t even listen to the people you interviewed. You came in biased—”
“I’m going to stop you right there, Vincent.
You will pay me, or I’ll bring legal action against you with proof of who I spoke to and what was said.
You’re running your company like your father did in 1959.
If you truly want to improve things for your employees and boost your bottom line, you’d start paying your people what they’re worth and stop expecting them to work seventy-hour weeks. ”
Am I the insufferable ass he claims I am? Absolutely. Just ask anyone who’s known me more than twelve minutes. I know I’m an ass. That’s what people pay me to be when they hire me.
Don’t ask for my opinion if you don’t want it. Better yet, don’t pay me for my opinion if you’re not willing to listen to it.
The elevator spits me out on the twenty-second floor—my domain. Or some would say my lair. Either works for me.
I wind my way through the cubicles, nodding to those who make eye contact with me.
There are few of them. Most keep their heads down when I walk by.
It’s not that I’m mean. They all like working here.
It’s that I’m not the chit-chatty, friendly type.
That’s my brother, Jack’s, territory. Everyone loves Jack.
“You’re wrong,” Vincent says. I can picture him sitting behind his behemoth oak desk stabbing his finger into the dark wood to emphasize his point. “I simply cannot believe that all of my employees are against me.”
Heaven help me and seventy-year-old men who can’t comprehend that if they want to run a successful company they have to change with the times.
“Then find someone else.” I slow as I approach the cubicle outside my corner office and see my brother sitting on top of the desk, feet kicking like he’s six years old, a shit eating grin on his face that doesn’t bode well for me.
The fact that the desk is empty doesn’t bode well for me either. Cleaned out. The owner gone.
“Go pay someone to tell you what you want to hear,” I say to Vincent while eyeing my brother.
“But I guarantee you’ll be closing your doors permanently within five years.
Your company is a dinosaur, Vincent. I don’t give a shit what you do with the reports I presented to you, but you’ll be receiving an invoice within the week and you better as hell pay it or you’ll hear from my attorneys. ”
I stab the red button on my phone and slide it into my suit pocket before running my hands down my face. “Fuck me.”
“Yes,” Jack says, still swinging his size twelve feet encased in beat up sneakers that are well past their prime. “You are well and truly fucked.”
I eyeball the empty desk. There isn’t one thing on it that indicates a person occupied that desk for the past four...no, three...months. I blow out a breath and plant my hands on my hips.
“What does this make?” Jack asks as he pats the top of the desk. “Five or six in the last year?”
Six but I refuse to admit that out loud. “Did you call HR?”
“Hell no.” He plants a hand on either side of his ass and swings his legs faster. “I thought I’d leave that fun job to you.”
“Thanks.”
He grins as he slides off the desk. “You know what you need?”
“No, but I’m guessing you do.” I enter my office and head to my desk.
The city of Denver is spread out before me, a spectacular view of the mountains beyond the floor to ceiling windows.
I barely give it a glance as I shrug out of my suit coat and drape it over a chair.
I’m rolling up my sleeves when Jack practically falls into the chair across from my desk. “Don’t you have work to do?”
Jack is the other half of Strong Sterling Enterprises. We’re brothers in every sense of the word except the literal. Technically, we’re half brothers. Same mother. Different fathers. I’m the Strong of Strong Sterling. Jacks’ the Sterling of Strong Sterling.
We’ve created a kick ass company whose services are sought after world wide. Despite our current conversation, we work well together, proving that complete opposites can and do accomplish a lot even if he bugs the shit out of me most of the time.
“I have a shitload of work to do,” he says without moving out of my office and into his own to do said work. “But right now the important thing is finding you a new personal assistant. Again.”
I fire up my laptop and try to ignore my brother, the empty desk outside my office, and the again that he emphasized with a raised brow. But no one can ignore Jack for long. He leans forward to rap his knuckles on my desk.
“Hello! Gabriel. In case you didn’t notice, your assistant walked out. Again . This has to stop.”
“I want Mrs. Martinez back.”
“Mrs. Martinez is sunning herself in Rio with her main squeeze.”
“Could you please not?”
Mrs. Martinez was my assistant for fifteen years. She ran my life like a well-oiled machine so I could concentrate on building the business. Then, last year, out of nowhere, she up and left me. Abandoned me to a long string of subpar assistants who Jack claims I keep running off.
To be fair, Mrs. Martinez didn’t abandon me, but in this I prefer to be the martyr.
In truth, she gave me four months’ notice after having met the love of her life.
A sixty-year-old man named Donny who adores her, who happens to be filthy rich, and who stole her from me to fulfill her wishes to travel the world. I hate Donny.
“You know what I think?” Jack asks, crashing through my thoughts.
“No. Nor do I care. You may not have work to do, but I do. Go away.”
He leans back and crosses an ankle over his knee. “You need two assistants.”
“The fuck I do! I can’t keep one. How the hell am I supposed to keep two?”
Damn Donny. It’s all his fault. For a second I think about kidnapping Mrs. Martinez—although I guess her name isn’t Martinez anymore—and bringing her back here. That would show Donny.
“Hear me out, brother.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes. I can fix all your problems.”
“Doubtful.”
“You need a west coast and an east coast assistant. The reason you’re losing all of them is because you work them too hard. I bet you told old man Morrow to stop working his people seventy hours a week.”
I press my lips together and attempt to ignore him.
He shakes his head. “Why would you do the same thing to your assistant?”
“I don’t require seventy-hour work weeks. I do need someone who can communicate with both coasts. So, yes, evening hours are required for this position, but their time is flexible.” Mostly.
I’m all over the country. Some months I’m all over the world. I need someone who can handle my calendar in any time zone. I pay well. I’ve provided a generous bonus package, more PTO than most companies, and I’m okay with flexible hours as long as it doesn’t interfere with my schedule.
Okay, maybe I have a lot going on, but there has to be someone out there who can meet my demands. Meet my requirements .
“If you have an assistant to handle your east coast calendar and one who handles your west coast then you’re splitting the duties.”
“And adding double pay and double benefits.”
“Strong Sterling can afford it.” He finally pushes himself from the chair and half turns, giving me hope that he’s heading to his own office. “I’ll tell Barbara in HR to look into finding two people for you.”
“I don’t want two people,” I yell after him as he disappears through the door. He waves his hand above his head and keeps going.