《The Step Brother》Losing Control

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"Dude, that's your sister?" Logan from HR gaped like a horny thirteen-year-old boy who had never laid eyes on a pretty girl before.

Andie stood clear across the other side of the office, stopped at somebody's desk who had the file she was missing to complete her first report. The person was smiling because everybody smiled at Andie. She was warm and kind. And the morning sun was filtering in through the windows and casting her in a silhouette of sun...

Thumping his colleague's arm with the back of his hand, Eric yanked at Logan's suit jacket until he was faced away from Andie.

"Stop staring. And she's not my sister. She was my stepsister, but now we're just friends."

"Right, right, so she's living in your apartment—"

"Logan, cut it out. It's not like that. She needed a place to stay, and I just so happened to have an extra bedroom..."

"Yeah, sure, 'just so happened,' OK."

"Hey, don't you have something to do? Like your job?"

Logan was a tall, dark-haired, twenty-something-year-old who was closer to Andie's age than Eric was, but acted at least a decade younger. How he made it this far in the corporate world, Eric wasn't sure.

"Oh! She's coming over here!"

"It's not that large of an office, so the chances of bumping into her are not that slim..." Sighed Eric, dropping his forehead into his hands to rub circles around his temples. When he looked up, he spotted Andie, and sure enough, she was just approaching his office. She knocked gently on the glass window of his wood door even though it was already open.

"Hey," he said as casually as he could muster, knowing that Logan The Doofus was staring between them for any sign of sexual tension.

"Hey," she replied, almost apologetically, and Eric knew she was about to apologize for interrupting, because that was how she had approached him with every question she had in her first week in the office. "I'm sorry to bother you again, but..." she trailed off as she stepped into his office, her eyes glued to the top paper in a stack of papers in her hands. Eric hid his smile, clasping his hands in front of his chin and waiting patiently for her to continue. "I can't find the transportation records... I think it's record...R-8889-1?"

"That doesn't sound right..." Logan muttered as he whipped out his phone. "Did you try calling Transportation at City Government?"

"No..." Andie bit her lip. "I should have thought of that. I'm sorry."

Eric wanted to stand up and shake her for apologizing again.

"Hey, that's why there's so many of us! We can help each other out!" Logan's enthusiasm seemed to have an off affect on Andie, for she offered a weak laugh before backing from the office with the phone number Logan had dug from his never-ending list of contacts.

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Andie offered one more smile before turning and exiting his office.

"Dude," Logan grinned at Eric. "She's awesome."

"You barely said ten words to her. She barely said three to you. Get over yourself."

"Are you jealous?"

"No, I am not je—"

"—because she's your sister?"

"She is not my sister. just—get out!"

Laughing heartily because he loved to stir a pot, Logan left Eric's office.

Eric stalled two minutes before getting up and leaving his office to track down Andie. He found her at her desk, frowning at her phone.

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"Hey."

Andie jumped. "Hey, Sorry. You startled to me."

There she went again-l—apologizing for absolutely no reason whatsoever.

"Andie, you look frustrated."

"I am."

"Why?"

Andie sighed. "I'm just mad at myself for not figuring out every resource on my own. HR shouldn't know more about my department than I do. I feel like I must be letting you down..."

"Hey," Eric warned gently, and Andie's eyes immediately left her phone and lifted to his. "You're not letting me down. And just because Logan knew the number for tranportation at City Government does not mean that he knows more about your department than you."

Rounding her desk, Eric stopped at her side. "You're being too hard on yourself, Andie. I don't like it, and I want it to stop."

For several heartbeats Andie just stared, her focus intently glued to Eric's. Then, she nodded, slowly, demonstrating her understanding.

"Good... Now, if you have anymore questions, let me know."

Eric leaned up from the desk and walked back to his office, only glancing back once to find that Andie's eyes were still on him. She seemed stunned, and he didn't blame her. What had come over him? What possessed him to get all...dom...with her? It wasn't the first time he had used that specific tone with her, but he had almost always followed it up with a light-hearted comment that might as well erase the previous tone altogether.

They weren't there, he knew that. They may never be. And yet, it slipped out with her. He was usually so careful, usually so in-control of that darker side of him. But with Andie, he couldn't seem to keep it at bay.

And as always, using that tone of voice with her woke something inside of him that felt restless and antsy to escape.

After closing himself in his office, Eric sank into his chair and sighed heavily. He rubbed at his temples as he tried to calm his nerves, but they stirred like an angry nest of hornests anyway.

He had to release it...

Looking up, Eric eyes the clock on his desk. It was half an hour until five o' clock. And it was a Friday. He could leave early... He could feed the hungry beast inside of him before it was too late.

Eric grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair, and with long determined strides, he left his office and headed for the elevator without a single glance back.

_______________

Andie watched Eric leave, her brow furrowed curiously.

Where did he go when he left early...?

It wasn't the first time he had left the office early, seeming agitated. And on those days he wasn't ever home until very late—until well after Andie had gone to bed.

Michelle, a coworker who worked in a desk just a few feet ahead of her, spotted Andie's confusion. With a smile, she leaned back and spoke low to Andie.

"He leaves work early almost every Friday. But, since you started, he's been doing it more frequently."

"That's odd... Do you know where he goes?"

Michelle shrugged. "No idea. We were hoping you might, considering you live with him."

Frowning to herself, Andie crossed her arms as the studied the elevator doors that shut behind Eric.

Where did he go?

It wasn't until later that evening, well after Andie had come home, did Andie's curiosity turn into an unhealthy obsession.

Seriously, she thought to herself. Where does he go?

It was 8PM and Eric still wasn't home. She texted once, but in hopes of keeping her raging obsession from showing, she limited it to that. The message said; "Hey, where'd you go?" Super casual. It didn't give away any hint of the chaos that brewed in Andie's head. Still—no response.

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9PM came and went, and then 9:30, and then 10PM. By 10:30 Andie started to receieve flashbacks of the night that she stayed up waiting for Eric to come home six years ago. And when he did...well, he packed his bags and never came back.

Was Andie afraid of that very same thing happening again?

Yes. Yes, she was.

So, she almost felt she had no control of herself when she reached for her iPhone and pulled up Eric's contact information. She looked up his location and within minutes, she had the exact address of where he appeared to be.

According to her three-generation-old I-phone, Eric was deep within the bustling district of the city where the nights didn't end until the sun was coming up. That side of the city was untamed, and Andie wasn't the least bit prepared to get into her car and make her way over there.

Still...

Fidgeting with unease, Andie's pacing led her to her closet, where she was slipping on one of the only evening dresses she had. Black, gentle, falling around mid-thigh, shoulder sleeves... It was the dress she had hoped to wear on a more special occasion—not that she and Eric would have a special occasion, but if they did—that was going to be the dress.

But if she was going to the party side of town, this dress was the most suitable thing she had.

Frowning bitterly at herself for being desperate enough to locate Eric that she dressed up to visit a place so out of her usual-scene; she aggressively finger combed her hair before slapping on a pair of matching heels, and storming from the apartment in an angry, insecure fit.

She didn't take her car. She had no idea where she was going, or where to park, or how she would possibly weave her car in and out of the crowds of people that usually clogged the streets on a Friday night on the party-side.

So, she opted for an Uber, which arrived in less than five minutes with a cheerfully plump guy in purple glasses behind the wheel. He was all too thrilled to take her to the heart of the city where she was destined to have a "good time."

Andie was less than convinced, though. All she could think of was Eric, and what he was doing, and where he was doing it, and why he was there instead of home.

Several times during the twenty-minute drive she considered telling the driver to turn around. Because, honestly, what the hell was she doing? She was being a total crazy psycho bitch, and she wasn't even in the correct position to be that. She wasn't Eric's girlfriend. She was his friend. His roommate. His former step-sister.

Gagging silently to herself, Andie looked out the window, feeling ill to her stomach, as the car pulled through a large throng of people underneath the bright and colorful lights of the city. She could hear music from several bars and clubs playing from outside, and she started to feel incredibly overwhelmed.

Looking down at her phone, Andie spotted Eric's location just a few doors down, and she asked the driver to let her out right here. She assured him she could walk the rest of the way.

Something about the people and the lights and the music made her feel safe—to an extent—because there were so many people around, nothing bad could happen to her. She imagined she could give into the rising anxiety within her, and fall to the ground in a weeping, trembling, mess, and several people would likely approach, without hesitation, to make sure she was alright.

People were like that nowadays.

But, she didn't give into her anxieties. Instead, she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and convinced herself that she was a lot taller than she really was as she walked down the street. She weaved through dozens upon dozens of people, all dressed to impress, smiling and enjoying the company of friends or lovers, or both...

And then she arrived to the building where Eric's location listed him. It wasn't as bustling as the other establishments. And colorful lights didn't adorn the outside of it like the other establishments. There was something more...refined about it. And oddly, the majority of the crowd bypassed it.

Feeling that unease again, Andie stepped closer to the building, inspecting the inside through the windows. It looked like a very chill wine bar; all dim yellow lights and mahogany bartops and cedar floors... Very rustic and...stuffy? Andie couldn't quite picture Eric relaxing in such a prestigious-looking place, but what did Andie really know of Eric and his tastes?

With a deep breath, Andie gripped the gold handle of the large wooden door and pulled it open. Stepping inside, she found that there were two entrances. One continued into the wine-bar, while the other led down a dimly-lit staircase.

From where she stood, she could see well enough into the main entrance to see that the crowd inside was sparse, and none of the gentlemen within looked like Eric. So, she focused her attention on the second entrance, where a sign hung above the door, that read "Green Parlour." Not a single sound came from below.

Biting the inside of her lip, Andie took a tentative step forward, when from her side, a man appeared.

"Excuse me, miss. Did you need a table?"

The man, a hostess at the bar—she supposed, despite his unusually large size, expensive suit, and deep, terrifying voice—startled Andie, and she jumped back as if she had been caught doing something guitly.

"Uhm, no, thank you. I was actually going down to the...uh...the Green Room—Parlour. The Green Parlour."

The man narrowed his eyes at Andie, all but towering over her. "Were you really?"

She shrunk a bit, her eyes averting. "Uh, yes."

The man didn't seem comvinced, and when he started to back away, as if he were off to fetch somebody else, Andie felt herself panic.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," she said, straightening her spine and lifting her chin. "I'll be on my way."

Demonstrating a confidence that said she knew exactly what she was doing, Andie stepped forward, only to be stopped again.

"Miss," he said, and Andie turned with a sighed, admitting defeat.

But her arm bumped something soft as she turned, and looking down she found that the man was holding out a black, lacy, eyemask for her.

"wh—" She almost asked "what's this," but snapped her mouth shut before she would say anything that would give her away.

"Do you know where you're going?" He asked her as she gingerly took the mask from his large hand, the 'where' in his question enunciated as if the 'where' of her desired location was a grand deal.

"Yes," she answered more uncertainly than she intended. Then, whilst slipping the mask over her eyes, she stepped across the threshold and started down the stairs.

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