Four Brothers and a Bride-Chapter 132

ASHTON

"Excuse me?" The strategy committee head asks, gaping at me as intensely as the rest of the members seated in the conference room. Father leans back with a hand under his chin and says nothing.

"I didn’t stutter, did I, Kopek? You heard me right. I need you guys to postpone the conference for at least two weeks till the storm blows over."

"But Mr. Asher, we’ve been planning this conference for months now. Invitations have been sent out. Expenses have been made. If we reschedule now, we might lose the interest and trust of potential investors." A middle-aged lady quips with eyebrows arched worriedly. The rest of the team nods in agreement with her.

She has a valid point but I can’t organize the conference in Asher’s stead with only a day’s notice. There’s a limit to what I can do while pretending to be my very competent brother. Asher is in no position to host the conference and I don’t want to be the reason it flops so I am sitting this one out and buying him time to get better.

"Losing the interest and trust of some potential investors will be inevitable at this trying time. We all need to accept that. However, it’s not smart to push through with the conference in light of the prevailing circumstances we find ourselves in. We will only be wasting money to get blasted by the media and the handful of guests that will deign to attend. The logical thing to do is to postpone the program. It will be understandable and when we do organize in two weeks’ time, it will be bigger and better."

"Asher"

I glance down at Josh and put my surging anger in check. He’s been acting smug all day.

"I agree with the points you’re making. I just don’t see why we have to reschedule the program in two weeks’ time. A few days should be fine. I vote three days." He gives me that smug grin again before turning to father. "Mr. chairman, I want to assure you that the rumors will blow over before you have your dinner tonight."

Father’s eyes light up.

"Yes, Mr. Rollins. I handled it."

"Tonight?"

Josh cuts me off with a hand, flicks on the plasma TV in the conference room and lolls back in his chair. On the screen, Kristy Randall is speaking to the media and vehemently denying the rumors.

"I am severely hurt by the rumors being pedaled against me and the respectable businessman, Mr. Brett Rollins. I have been silent, not because any of it is true, but because I am not much of a social media person and I was hoping the rumors will blow over in time and people will find another lie to fixate on but I was wrong. Hence, I am speaking out for my integrity and that of the Rollins family that have been suffering. I HAVE NO ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP WITH MR. BRETT ROLLINS. He is a very respectable and kind entrepreneur whom I admire as a businesswoman myself. I am only a shareholder in Rollins Group and the pictures that have circulated about us don’t tell the true story. I did seek Mr. Rollins’ audience a few times to get some helpful advice on other investments I wanted to make in various companies and his advice did prove helpful. I am appalled by the media’s desperation for news that they had to make callous insinuations about us without thinking of the harm it would cause the families involved. Damage has been done to our reputations and legal action will definitely be taken against the blog which originated these lies..."

The journalists proceed to inundate her with more questions.

I turn to Josh and find him watching me keenly. The bastard. Why is he just doing this now? When my brothers and I called him up to ask his mother to denounce the rumors, he had made excuses about putting his mom in the spotlight, citing that she didn’t like media attention and whatnot. I guess it was all a lie. Mother and son just didn’t want my brothers and I to take the glory for putting out the media fire or maybe their reasons for enjoying this shit-show runs deeper than that.

From what I can observe, Kristy has absolutely no problem facing the media. I clench my fist as Josh turns off the TV. Everyone else on the table sigh in relief.

"So, Asher, the conference will hold three days from now instead of tomorrow. Our PR team will be working all night to salvage our business reputation by building from my mother’s response. Hundreds of articles will sprout between now and tomorrow bashing the blog that started all this and sympathizing with the chairman and the company as victims in all this. Then in two days, we’ll have the conference while the pity game still holds strong. I wager we will attract far more elite parties and investors all things being equal."

Everyone gives him a resounding applause. I join them just as the sound tapers down.

"Wow, amazing, Josh Randall. You seem to have everything figured out. It just baffles me why you turned down my request to have your mother hold a press conference denouncing the disgusting rumor between her and my father the very next morning after the pictures circulated. What did you say on the phone? Your mother hates being in the spotlight? She’s not very good with handling media attention? If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two waited for the iron to get really hot around here before striking for reasons best known to you."

Josh’s cheeks flush briefly with embarrassment before he clears his throat. "What you just saw took a lot of convincing and preparation, Asher. It took a lot for my mother to come out of her shell to do that interview. Don’t make it sound like she didn’t also suffer humiliation in all this. Be careful with assuming my mother enjoyed any of this. What would that imply for your father, here? Do you doubt his loyalty to your mom?"

"RANDALL!" I bark his name through clenched teeth.

"ENOUGH!" Father speaks up for the first time. "Thank you all for your efforts. This is a minor setback and we will bounce back like we always do. Please excuse us. I’d like a word with my son and Mr. Randall."

Everyone clears the room with awkward stares.

"Sit down!" Father tells me.

"Or what? Now, you speak?" I exchange glances with both of them. "You know he clearly planned this with that desperate mother of his so why the hell is he not suspended yet?"

"Sit down, Ashton."

"Ashton?" Josh reiterates with a glint in his eyes as he takes me in once more. "That explains a lot. Asher would never have been so unprofessional as to let his emotions run unchecked during a meeting. He wouldn’t give me obvious death stares like he’s itching to punch me in front of everyone. Plus, he would have used a much vulgar word to describe my mom."

"Wanna see me multitask by punching the daylights out of you while calling your mother a cock-sucking...."

"ASHTON, ENOUGH! PLEASE CALM DOWN."

I blow out a hot breath and try not to think of cracking their skulls open. Both of them disgust me.

"May I ask where Asher is? He has to be sick or dead to skip work like this. Which is it?"

Father gives Josh a stern look. "None. He’s taking care of a few things for me outside Danvarr. He’ll be back in time to host the conference."

"What? But I..."

"You won’t show your face around that conference or it’ll cost you your place here. I don’t care what excuse you come up with. You had a chance to douse this fire earlier and you turned it down?" Father rises and leans forward on the mahogany table to glare at Josh. "You mustn’t know me well enough. I DON’T PLAY WHEN IT COMES TO MY BUSINESS. You and your mother have caused me to lose a fortune on the stock market. You should be lucky I am not having you transferred to mop floors in one of our subsidiary companies."

"Dad, I apologize..."

"DON’T. "Father shuts him up with a hard look. He pulls his suit together before walking out. Josh’s face crumple with anxiety as he races after father. The scene gives me sterling pleasure for a moment before I return to Asher’s office.

On my way, I stop by the office kitchen to make myself some coffee.

"Sir, you could have asked me." Nessa says politely when she finds me fixing my own cup.

"It’s okay, Nessa. I got it. Thanks" I sip my drink. "Asher never makes his own coffee?"

She blushes. "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind but I always beat him to it."

I don’t believe her. Asher definitely likes his coffee handed to him. She’s just too in love with him to notice anything.

On my way to Asher’s office, I catch a glimpse of photo frames for the best interns of the year lined on the hallway. Unsurprisingly, Demi makes the cut. She clutches her gold medal and smiles goofily in her yellow suit.

It’s a cute picture but something about it makes me uneasy. I don’t know why I feel like it looks super familiar, like I have seen it somewhere before. It isn’t possible of course. I don’t frequent the HQ and there’s no way I could have seen this picture of Demi. Still, my mind grows restless.

I can’t place what’s so familiar about the picture but it has something to do with the intern of the year award and another staff that, come to think of it, bears a slight resemblance to Demi.

My heart sinks as I remember her.

"Is everything alright, sir?" Nessa asks.

Is she always like this with Asher, hovering around him? It’s uncomfortable.

"Yeah. Everything’s fine."

Yet when I proceed to enter Asher’s office, I halt in my tracks. "Nessa, I’d like you do something for me."

"Ok sir. What is it?"

"Could you help me pull up the list of female interns that worked here six years ago? I need names, photographs and other details."

"Ok sir. I’ll get started on that."

My hands quiver as I approach Asher’s desk and set down my coffee. What the fuck am I doing? Why am I revisiting that painful memory? This is no way to distract myself from getting back at Josh and his mother. This will only open old wounds. It took me a while to live with the guilt. What if I sink back into that dark hole of depression after seeing that woman’s face again?

My door opens and Nessa enters.

"Sir, I have forwarded everything to your computer."

"Oh. That was fast. Thank you."

After she leaves, I endure an internal torment about whether or not I should check the file. There will be no going back if I do. Yet, I don’t think I’ll be able to rest with the big ball of curiosity on my chest. I check the file and carefully go through the pictures of interns.

When I see her, a fresh wave of guilt hits me. I still remember her motherly care, her patience even when I was being a spoilt brat. I was a handful. I intentionally did things to frustrate her yet she never gave up on me.

The memories come flooding back like a tidal wave as I stare at her innocent eyes and goofy smile that weirdly mirror’s Demi’s. They’re not exactly spitting images of each other but they still look similar when you take a deep look.

My eyes drop to the name and my spine straightens on the chair. Mrs. Camille Branson? As in Demi Branson?

What are the odds that they both have the same last names and look somewhat alike? My heart begins to race as I lurch to my feet. This has to be a coincidence, right? Demi’s biological parents are late and my family knows nothing about them. We only know that her surviving relatives are her aunt Elizabeth and cousin, Kira

I stagger to my feet as beads of sweat coat my forehead. No, Ashton, you’re overthinking it. It’s just a fucking coincidence. It can’t be true. It just can’t.

Camille Branson, the former HQ intern who tragically died alongside her husband in my family’s mall six years ago BECAUSE OF ME can’t possibly be Demi’s mother. No, she can’t be.

I drop back in my chair, open a fresh tab and immediately search for Camille’s social media profiles. I localize the search in the city where she lived with her family to narrow down the search. It takes a bit of time but I eventually find an old account of hers.

My throat clogs when I see her family photos with her husband and daughter.

CAMILLE BRANSON WAS DEMI’S MOM???