Somehow, my father spread his vile words to everyone in Houston, because they’re the only people who still give me a problem in this company. I’d considered switching ports, but at this point, it’s too expensive… and for what? Leaving is only letting them win. It’s not the workers at the port that are an issue, it’s my actual employees. The older ones that were around when my father was still here. They should be at retiring age, and soon enough they’ll all be gone anyway.
I could fire them, but then I remember it’s not their fault that they were raised the way they were. You learn bigotry and hate from somewhere. Problem is my father encouraged that sort of attitude in his company.
He didn’t only leave behind a company. He left behind habits. Attitudes. People who still think the way he taught them to.
I don’t know why I’m thinking of him now. That irritates me.
Funny how things can leave lasting scars, no matter how long ago they happened.
I clasp my hands behind my back, looking down the forty-seven floors to the bottom, then outward to look at the rest of the city.
My computer dings with a message from Oliver, pulling my attention. I see the pop up in the corner of my screen and move closer to read it.
Oliver
Everything is set for the morning, sir.
He is a good little assistant.
I type back to say thank you, then let him know he can leave for the rest of the day, if he’d like. I have one meeting left and then I’m leaving as well. But before I prepare for that, I go to my closet, where my safe is built into the wall. I put in the code,it beeps three times and the door pops open. I slide out the folder I will need for the morning, look through it to ensure all the appropriate paperwork is there, then put it away and lock the safe, tugging on the handle three times to ensure it’s closed securely.
Chapter Five
Cassius
Our small room looks like it threw up fabric. I’ve torn apart the beds, emptied every drawer, and looked through every shirt in this place—yet I can’t find the one I need.
“I’m going to cry.”
Cammy stands in the doorway, arms crossed, chewing on her lip as she looks around the room.
“I’d blame the witch, but what good would that do?”
I groan, sinking into the mountain of clothes on the floor.
“At least we can’t say we don’t have options.” Cammy steps in, using her foot to shove the clothes into the pile so she isn’t stepping on them.
Despite having different fathers, the three of us share the same basic features. The real differences are in the small details. Cammy and Chrissy both have hazel eyes and light brown hair, while mine is darker. And then there are my eyes—clearly from my father, since Mom’s are the same hazel as my sisters’.
“I need this shirt, Cam. I can’t go if I don’t find it.”
If I mess this up, I ruin everything. I ruin our chance.
She sits on Chrissy’s bed, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees.
“It’s just a shirt, Cass. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Nothing is ever just anything.
“It won’t. That’s my lucky shirt. I wore it to my interview at the burger joint, and I got the job.”
“Did you ever think your charming personality is what got you the job?”
I groan, getting up and grabbing her by the shoulders to shake her.
“I can’t do this. I have to cancel.”
“Stop being so dramatic. Damn, Cass, you’re worse than me and Chrissy on our periods.”