Page 22 of Meant to Be

****

Joshua

I pushed through the double doors that led to my brother’s outer office and was greeted by his grinning head assistant.

“Mark.”

“Mr. Townsend.” He nodded in greeting from behind his desk.

“Cut that out. Mr. Townsend’s your boss and my father.” We’d been over this many times prior.

Mark shook his head. “I’ll refer to you as Joshua under one condition.”

I peered down at him through a narrowed gaze. His brown eyes sparkled in mischief and I just knew I wasn’t going to like what was coming from his mouth next.

“No,” I shook my head and said before he could get the next words out.

“Come on,” he urged, bending and turning his head to peer down the hall. My guess was to make sure Aaron wasn’t coming around the corner.

“Mark, no. You said the last time was enough.”

“I know. I lied.”

Even I had to chuckle but I quickly straightened up and shook my head.

“What’s the big deal? You know I can handle my own.”

Sighing, I ran my hand through my hair. “You handling your own isn’t my concern. You know your brother would do his best to kick my ass if he found out I was letting you fight.” I wasn’t afraid of Connor’s wrath. I more so despised the feeling of sneaking behind his back.

“What Connor doesn’t know won’t kill him … or me.” He grinned.

“You both are fucking pains in my ass,” I said low through clenched teeth.

He wriggled his eyebrows. “You don’t even mean that.”

“Younger brothers are the biggest pains in the ass.”

“Aren’t you a younger brother?” he retorted.

“That’s exactly how I know. But I’ve got nothing on Ty,” I stated, referring to my youngest brother.

“Look, I’m itching to get in another fight. It’s been almost two months since my last one.”

I sighed. I heard the yearning and desperation in his voice. I should’ve told him no, flat out, but I sensed he needed this just as bad as the rest of us who fought. Hell, I’m sure he had some type of pent-up animosity working with my brother all week.

“You’ll fight under one condition.”

He frowned. “What’s that?”

“You tell Connor about your fighting. I’m not doing this sneaking around bullshit. I’ve got more important shit to worry about.”

Mark looked as if he was about to refuse but thought better of it when he looked at me again. His shoulders sank. “Fine, but after my next fight.”

“He’ll be out of town for a while, anyway. Next Friday, ten p.m. down at the lounge. Don’t be fucking late,” I stated sternly, pointing a finger at him.

His face morphed from an almost pleading desperation to utter elation in the span of two seconds.

“I’m always on time.” He grinned. “Now, let’s get you into your meeting with the big guy.”