My Brother's Best Friend (2 page)

I narrowed my eyes, giving him no indication that I was susceptible to his charm. “Fine, but you’re buying me a Diet Coke.”

He chuckled. “Deal. So what did you want to eat?”

“I don’t care. I’m not paying.”

“Yes, but you are eating it, so if you don’t want me to call the Indian place down the street, you’d better say something.”

“No, please! Not that one! Anything but that!” I leaned forward and grabbed his phone from his hands and ended the call.

Devin chuckled again. “Fine, what do you want?”

“Stefano’s?” I suggested, handing him his phone.

“Good choice. Olives and pepperoni?” he asked as he was no doubt looking up the number from the Internet on his phone. Lucky duck. The only feature my phone was capable of besides making phone calls was text messaging.

“Yeah. Can we get another one with onion and bacon?” I asked, and he raised his eyebrows. “Mitch likes it. Stop looking at me like that. I’m not going to eat two entire pizzas.”

“Maybe I should get a third, you know, just in case.”

“I resent that,” I said, punching him in the arm.

He laughed. I’m sure my punch was more like a tap to him. “All right, I’m sorry. You know I didn’t mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just order the pizza. Oh, and don’t forget the garden salad for Em.”

“Oh, yes, I can’t forget the salad,” he said sarcastically. “Does that girl ever eat anything other than a celery stick?”

I laughed. “I don’t know. Maybe you should ask her tonight.”

“Yeah, right. After what you pulled earlier, she’s going to be thinking I want to hang out with her in a non-‘she’s-my-best-friend’s-little-baby-sister’ kind of way.”

I smiled as he put the phone to his ear and began talking to the restaurant. I turned to my computer and lost myself in a new game, determined to beat Devin’s score.

“They said twenty minutes,” Devin said.

“Uh huh, okay,” I mumbled. Seconds later, he jerked me toward him, and my hands slipped from the keyboard. “Damn it, Dev! You ruined my game.” I glared at him.

He was trying to hide a smirk. “I’m sorry, CJ. I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did!”

“All right, so maybe I did mean to mess you up, but it’s only because you’re ignoring me.”

“You’re Mitch’s friend, it’s not my responsibility to keep you entertained.”

He shook his head and feigned sadness. “Are you saying you’re not my friend? I’m just Mitch’s friend to you?”

I rolled my eyes exaggeratedly. “You can be so annoying sometimes, Dev.”

“But that’s why you love me.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. I tolerate you.”

“You’re a regular cynic.” He chuckled.

“And that’s why you love
me
,” I joked with him.

“Finally, you understand.” He smiled back, nudging my side.

I shut my laptop and climbed off the bed. “Come on, let’s go kill some brain cells.”

“TV?” He sounded hopeful.

I sighed and shook my head. “It’s a wonder you haven’t gone completely mental already. I still can’t believe you want to come home and watch television after you’ve been working with it all day.”

“Okay, technically I don’t work with ‘television’ itself.” He smiled mockingly. I just rolled my eyes. “I work for a television show, but I work behind the scenes, making the magic come to life.”

“Mixing sound in a studio,” I stated blandly.

“Hey, it’s what brings everything together.”

“I have to admit, you do make it sound very nice,” I admitted. “The actors aren’t bad either.”

“Nice? That’s like saying I look pretty, rather than handsome. Nice is not an adjective you use to describe sound mixing. Brilliant, maybe, but not nice,” he said with no hint of a smile.

I chuckled. “Fine. The work you do is brilliant, Dev.”

“Wow, is Christy Joy actually complimenting me?” He laughed.

Devin worked for ABC studios, specifically with their newest hit show. The show was in its third year and one of the most watched non-cable shows. It was about high school students (the actors weren’t even close in age to being in high school, I’d like to add) who were in an
a cappella
club, fighting their way to the top. I had to admit Devin did a great job of “sound mixing,” whatever the hell that meant. All I know is that every Wednesday when the show comes on at nine, it sounded crisp and clear, and I could set the volume level at 20 and never turn it up or down and still hear everything perfectly.

“Yes, I suppose that was a compliment. And no middle names, Devin Theodore!”

“That’s a family name. I couldn’t control that,” he said, collapsing onto one of the lounge chairs in the living room. He grabbed the channel changer off the coffee table and turned the TV on. “Anything you want to watch?”

I shook my head. I was usually up for watching anything. I could even watch sports—shocker, I know. About the only thing I couldn’t watch was news and politics. I had to be in the right mood or it would just suck my spirit. Oh, and also some of the Health Channel programs. I could just about vomit with some of the stuff they showed on that channel.

Devin flipped through the channels and even looked at the cable guide and found nothing he wanted to waste his time on. “Want to just watch
Lost
?” he asked, getting up from his chair.

“Sure, you know I’m always up for it. But put in Season 5, because I love it when they jump through time.”

“You’ve always had a fascination with Season 5. I don’t understand it.”

“I appreciate the absolute genius behind the two different timelines and how everything eventually comes back together. I mean come on, they are back in 1974! And then, by unearthing an atomic bomb, buried by their own advice back in 1956, they use said bomb to destroy the Dharma Initiative. I mean, seriously! How do they come up with such craziness? And by setting off the bomb it creates two futures.” I huffed in excitement and admiration.

Devin chuckled and put the DVD into the machine. He was familiar with everything in our house. He was like family, but if I said he was family, that would mean he had some place in my heart. And that was so not the case. He was a friend, maybe, but not family.

We had almost gotten through an entire episode when the pizza arrived. Devin got up and paid the delivery guy and took the pizzas into the kitchen.

I stood up and walked to the stairs. “Em! Dinner’s here!” I didn’t hear any reply. “Emily! Did you hear me?”

“Yes, I heard you. I’m coming, okay?” she said aggressively.

“All right, I was just checking. You don’t have to snap at me,” I said calmly.

She didn’t respond, but instead walked past me into the kitchen. She was still mad. Mad at me, and mad at Devin. She hated that he didn’t pay her the slightest attention.

“You got a salad, right?” Emily asked upon seeing the pizza boxes on the table.

“Yeah, Devin ordered one.” I sidestepped past her to grab a plate. “Here.” I gave her a plate and took one for myself. “I didn’t know what dressing you wanted, but I figured you could just use the stuff you have in the fridge.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” she said, practically stomping to the fridge. She pulled the fat-free Italian from the drawer and slumped back in her seat.

“Something wrong, Em?” I wasn’t sure if she was mad because Devin was still here and he was hanging out with me, or if she was mad because I didn’t invite her to join us. Or maybe both?

“Nothing,” she said through clenched teeth.

I looked over at Devin, and he shook his head as if to tell me to just drop it. I shrugged my shoulders in an “oh well” manner then lifted up my plate and extended it toward Devin. Without me even having to say anything, he opened the pizza box near him and loaded the plate with two slices of my favorite, pepperoni and black olive. I smiled and nodded my head in approval.

After loading his own plate with two slices of bacon and onion and one slice of pepperoni and black olive, he motioned toward the living room.

I nodded my head at his proposition. “Hey, Em, we’re watching
Lost
and figured we could eat and watch it at the same time, so if you want to join us, feel free.” I stood up with my plate and cup in hand.

“Whatever, I’m just going to eat in my room. I was talking to Stacy before you yelled up the stairs.”

“Ok, if that’s what you’d like to do. Feel free to join later, if you want.” I walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. The fridge slammed shut behind me, and I figured she put the dressing away and maybe grabbed a water or coke. Then she stomped up the stairs, making sure we knew she was still angry.

Devin cleared his throat then turned the television back on and pressed play. The episode continued where we left off.

Around nine-thirty, the front door unlocked and Mitchell walked in. He walked into the living room. “Season 5?”

“Yep. There’s pizza in the kitchen if you want any. Oh, and some salad,” I replied, smiling up at my brother.

“How’d it go?” Mitch asked.

“Uh, our sister is mad at me again, or maybe she’s mad at Devin. I can never tell. Anyway, she stomped upstairs after grabbing dinner and is probably still talking to Stacy about how horrible I am.”

“I’ll talk with her. Thanks, Devin, for coming over. Sorry I wasn’t here earlier.”

“Forget it. You were out with Megan, which reminds me, can you and Megan have lunch with me tomorrow?”

“I’m sure we can work it out. Just give me a call or text me, that might be easier.”

“I’m going to head upstairs so you two can have your male bonding time.” I smiled as I got up and tried to take Devin’s plate.

“I’ll take care of it,” Devin said, grabbing my plate instead.

“Thanks. Night, Mitch.”

“Night, Chris.”

“Bye, CJ,” Devin called as I walked up the stairs.

Once I got to my room, I stared at the notebook Dr. Stone wanted me to use as a journal. Maybe I should write about Emily. I didn’t know why she was angry at me when she knew I didn’t like Devin. She should be mad at Devin for not paying her any attention. I decided to tell Dr. Stone about her behavior. Maybe eventually I’d actually start talking to Dr. Stone about more than just my childhood. Maybe I’d actually talk to him about what goes on with me daily. Maybe. That doesn’t mean I would talk to him about my parents or high school.

No way. That would never happen.

“G
ood afternoon, McCormick, Byron and Rauth,” I said the next morning at work.

“Yes, hi, this is Betty for John Byron.”

“One moment, please.”

Some might say being a receptionist seems like an easy job. Well, it’s not as easy as it seems. Just like life, I guess. I have several responsibilities here. I answer calls for both law firms in the building: MBR and Mayor & Sons. This isn’t always simple because both firms have VIP clients and have different protocols for certain people.

Betty, whose last name shall remain anonymous, is a VIP client with MBR. When she asks for Mr. Byron, she gets transferred to Mr. Byron. And if he or anyone else is out or busy, a VIP client has the option of leaving a message or talking with someone else. They also have the option to page him if he’s in the office, just not at his desk.

At Mayor & Sons, every client gets put through to the person they ask for, unless they are calling for Mr. Brian Mayor or Mr. Royce Mayor, then they are put through to their secretaries, unless it’s a VIP client. I have lists of both firms’ VIP clientele. I am also notified when someone in the office will be away or out to lunch, so I can transfer the calls accordingly.

I also sign in visitors and take care of booking rooms for different meetings, making sure there are no double bookings. That happened once when one of the admin clerks was taking over for a few minutes while I was on break. Let’s just say she hasn't covered me since.

All of my tasks keep me busy throughout the day. The only time it seems to slow down is around lunch. It’s a great job and pays well for what it is. The best part is I can basically do what I want as long as I don’t miss calls or meetings or incoming faxes.

I’ve been working at the front desk for nearly four years now, and even though there are about 150 total staff, counting both firms, I can greet almost every employee who walks through the front door by name. The woman who did this before me was so disorganized it’s no wonder they replaced her. Originally, I was only a temporary employee while she was on vacation for a month.

I spent my first day organizing the desk and the surrounding area. You wouldn’t believe how much crap she had just laying around. She had several undelivered faxes from months before I even started working here. They were so impressed by my work ethic and organization that they decided to keep me on, even after she returned. Needless to say, she was surprised when she came back to find her things moved to a new location with the other admin clerks at MBR. I can’t say she was happy, but neither was she upset. She told me later that she had always been stressed by answering the phones and the multi-tasking.

I don’t know, there was just something about answering phone calls and greeting people that I really enjoyed. Maybe it was the opportunity this job provided to be someone different, giving me the chance to see what it’s like to be happy for a change. At home, I could only feel sadness, but here I was someone different. I could be my old self, the person I was before the accident, before my life turned upside down.