Page 33 of Corporate Escapades

“Yeah. It’s true,” he replied huffily. “This isn’t something I care to discuss. I just want to forget about it for a while.”

“I’m surprised you’re still willing to stick to your weekend ritual, all things considered.”

“You don’t know the whole story,” said Vic. “They’re making us jump through some hoops to try to win back their approval and our previous lives. This is some big game to them.”

Breanna’s face wrinkled in confusion. “Us?”

Vic scowled at her. “So, let me get this straight, Jack told you about my situation, but he failed to mention Paris is in the same boat?”

“What? No. He didn’t tell me that.”

“Figures. He’s always trying to play the protector. He has Paris placed on top of some pedestal. One of these days, she’ll fall.” He was angry at his brother for being so forthcoming with information relating to his fragile state. Where was the family loyalty? It hurt knowing that Jack could throw him under the bus and raise Paris up all in one slick motion.

“Vic, don’t blame Jack. He’s basically a child still. He hasn’t lived through half of what we have.”

“I don’t care. He needs to learn that some things should be kept to himself, and if he is going to divulge information to another family member, then he’d better tell the whole damn story and not just the parts he likes.”

“Why don’t you tell me in your own words what happened?” she requested.

Shaking his head, he said, “It’s too embarrassing. I’m still shocked that our own family is putting us out like they are.”

“Putting you out? There must be a lot more to this situation than what Jack told me.” Her usual smile had turned to a frown as she waited for his response.

“Not surprising,” he replied, breaking into a jog. Breanna stepped off after him.

“Tell me, please. Maybe I can help.”

“Fine, I guess it’s better you hear it from me than from the media. They already have a whiff of this story.”

“Oh, geez, that makes things even worse.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Vic took a deep breath, then expelled the entire story of the past few weeks. When he finished, Breanna’s eyes went wide, and she stopped jogging. Vic watched as her face contorted and a small laugh escaped her lips. “Oh, you think this is funny?” At that moment, Breanna lost control, doubling over and laughing hysterically. “Come on. Get it all out of your system,” he replied with a scowl.

“I’m sorry,” she said between gasps for air. “I really am.”

Raising an eyebrow, he frowned, slowly nodding his head. “Yeah, it genuinely seems you are.”

Managing to get a hold of herself, she paused and took a deep breath. “Our parents are brilliant. Don’t you get what’s happening?”

“Yeah, we’re being punished.”

“That’s only half of it,” she said in a more serious tone. “They’re testing you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You really don’t know how lucky you are. I swear to you, this is much more than a simple punishment. They’re looking for something, or you’d already be out on your own. Consider this a blessing because you still have a shot.” She grinned as she took off at a full-on run. “Let’s go. We’re cutting it close if we plan to play tennis today.”

Vic ran after her, his mind reeling at the discovery she’d made. Were they being tested? If so, why? He knew they’d made mistakes, but what was the point of this whole situation other than to punish them? He’d bring the conversation to Paris at a later point in time. Perhaps she’d have some insight.

Chapter eight

It was week three and Vic and Paris found themselves sitting at the boardroom table. The room was quiet as everyone poured a cup of coffee and passed around bagels and tubs of cream cheese. Paris had a knot in her stomach and couldn’t bring herself to eat. Instead, she stared at the blue-gray walls and the many art prints the board had chosen as decoration. Each image was of some exotic place with blue-green waters, palm trees, or caverns. All strategically placed to promote a calm and relaxing feel. Much to her chagrin, she found herself wishing she could crawl into one of the images and disappear.

Never had she felt so out of place in her own life. This time, it was she who had messed up, and the knot grew as she thought about the possible punishment awaiting her. The sooner the meeting began, the sooner she could deal with the next obstacle.

“Paris,” said her mother, “how are things going for you?”

Paris’s stomach flipped and acid rose up in her throat. Swallowing, she slowly looked up. She didn’t want to answerthe question, but she knew she had no choice. “Not well,” she replied. “I had a complete emotional breakdown and spent my remaining money on an online auction.” Her eyes dropped to the table as she swallowed, trying to maintain her composure.

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