Brotherly Love

Story Info
How could I love my brother?
14k words
4.69
32.8k
38
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

It was one of those days that I wished that I was blessed with the power of divination, of foresight. We are all blessed with the power of hindsight, of being able to look back at the past, and to recognise that moment when the decision that we made would have devastating consequences. Sometime in the future I would recognise that this was to be one of those days. Instead of ignoring the insistent clamour of my alarm clock and going back to sleep, I dragged my sorry arse out of bed and staggered into the day and my future.

What did I have to look forward to today? A job that I disliked with a passion, with a company that I hated even more, a job that had no future for advancement, and no recognition of the effort that I put into it. And do you know why I should think this? It wasn't so much that I hated the job, as jobs go it wasn't bad. It wasn't so much that I hated the company, as companies go it was reasonably successful and my fellow workers were a pleasant enough bunch. It was my boss, who just happened to be my brother, and who, in that supercilious, condescending manner that I had come to despise, never let me forget that it was his sense of familial duty that forced him to offer it to me, to save me from the wreckage of my life at the time. "You should be grateful for this job, in your state of mind at the time no-one else would have hired you." Was a common enough phrase that was inserted into our conversations on a regular basis.

Brother Henry was the smart one in the family, at least that's what I was always told. Okay, so I wasn't the genius of the family, I'll give him that much, but then, I wasn't an imbecile either. I got by at school, doing just enough to pass my subjects because I didn't see the point in making the supreme effort to get higher grades. Henry made the effort, he studied all the time and got good grades, something he made the point of pointing out to our parents. So, of course he went to university to study Business Administration so that he could take over the running of the family business when Father retired. I was sent off to work in the building industry as a tradesman. Because of the limitations and the fluctuations in the building industry, I decided that I should get into a part of the trade that I could rely on for a steady, but not spectacular income. I did courses to become a Building Inspector.

While I was studying I worked my way up to a supervisory role in the company for which I worked. The business was steady and the money was good, so I sat on my qualifications as something to fall back on if there was a down-turn in the industry.

I had an active social life, and this included an active sexual life. This came to a screeching halt when my lady de jour announced that, despite my taking precautions on top of her being on the pill, she was pregnant. I would have liked to have met the little sperm that had managed to squirm through the walls of a condom and survive the chemical intricacies of the pill, he was some amazing sperm.

Anyway, we, Robyn and I, got married and some months later I was presented with a son, Julian. Then, a respectable time later a daughter, Phoebe. Life wasn't spectacularly happy, but it was good most of the time. The exception was at family gatherings where my imperfections were trotted out, by brother of course, for the world to see. I hated them, and I hated my brother.

Life drifted on for years before I noticed something creeping into the increasing number of the disagreements that Robyn and I were having. "Why can't you be more like your brother?"

"For fuck's sake, I don't want to be like him. I would not like to hate myself as much as I hate him."

It all came to a head when the company that I worked for went belly up due to that major financial melt-down that dragged the construction industry with it.

I had been out of work for a month and the prospects were disappearing as fast as an ice block in the desert. "Why can't you be more like Henry?" Robyn said one morning after I'd folded the newspaper employment pages. "His company isn't affected by this down-turn."

"His company might not be, but the contractors that he employs are. By using contractors rather than having his own tradesmen, he has cut his overheads down dramatically. His company is nothing more than a project management company. He wouldn't know what is involved in actually building something."

"You of course know it all, but if no-one can afford to build, this does you no good at all."

"If you think that Henry is so wonderful, then maybe you should have married him instead of me."

In hindsight that wasn't a very smart thing to say, because a week later she announced that she was leaving me to shack up with Henry, who was 'between wives' at the time.

How is it then that I find myself working for him? Financially I had no option. With no possibility of finding another job in the foreseeable future, I took his offer of a job. Maybe he was feeling a little guilty because of Robyn and the kids, but I don't think so, guilt would presuppose that he was capable of some sort of emotion. So for the past year I have swallowed my pride and gone to work every day and carried out my duties to the best of my ability.

My job is to conduct on-site audits of the works in progress. We have a couple of large government contracts that have kept us quarantined from the GFC, and its contraction of the building industry. Now normally such contracts are looked upon as 'cash cows' and could be relied on to bolster our finances. In the past it had been a common practise for contractors to drip-price contracts with variations and extras not accounted for in the original pricing. But, with the new level of transparency in these government projects, builders cannot afford to cut costs and use materials that do not comply with the engineer's specifications. Part of my job is to take all product supply invoices and check them against specifications. Another part is to carry out on-site inspections to ensure that work carried out is within acceptable tolerances and to specifications. I get my job wrong, and Henry will lose any chance of future contracts from the government.

When I go on-site I take my Personal Assistant with me. I found that the old method used, before my time, was both time consuming and impractical. To make notes while on-site and then have to explain it all to my PA was so inefficient I was surprised that it had gone on for so long. Sasha had a quick eye for discrepancies in invoices that left me free to concentrate more on the hands-on side of things. She was also handy in that, being very easy on the eye, she was looked on by site personnel as light weight, and inconsequential eye candy. Nothing could be further from the truth, she was worth her salary just in the things that she had picked up. Apart from being easy on the eye she was a very pleasant work companion, and we are contemplating on, when we can work out how to do this without the world at large noticing, her moving in with me. Yes we are lovers and have been for the past month.

Sasha smiled at me as I walked into my office. "His holiness wishes to see you ASAP."

"Any ideas?"

"There's a new project due to start in a couple of weeks, that's possibly it."

I rested my hand on her shoulder and she placed hers on mine. "Wish me luck." She squeezed my hand. With reluctance I withdrew my hand and headed for the halls of power.

"He'll see you in a minute." Janice, his PA told me when I walked in to the outer sanctum. This was his usual practise, keeping me waiting while he did nothing but keep me waiting. I sat and waited, and waited. "Robert, come in." His seemingly disembodied head said from around the door. Again the usual practise, he was standing, I was seated, he was higher than me and therefore the superior one.

"We have a new project due to start in two weeks. Now," Here it comes, he's going to tell me that he had to come in low with his estimate due to interstate contractors wanting to move into our turf, just to keep their workforce occupied. "We have priced low on this job because we need this contract. If we can bring this in on time and within budget it could lead to more contracts from this source. This is your department, and I don't need to tell you that there is a lot riding on this. Don't let me down, is that understood."

"When have I ever let you down." A reasonable enough statement, given my track record to date.

He had this thing where he raised one eyebrow, it was his way of questioning my statement without actually coming out with it. The result was the same, it confirmed my loathing towards him. I left with as much dignity as I could muster.

"You were right, as usual." I said to Sasha as I sat behind my desk. "We have a new project and he has quoted low and wants me to bail him out."

"These just arrived." She had the plans and specs for the new project in her hand.

"Spread them out and let's see what miracles we'll have to perform this time."

"Jesus Christ." When Sasha begins a statement in this manner it doesn't bode well. "He's priced this using last year's cost schedule and hasn't inserted a price increase clause. We're behind the eight ball before we start. It can't be done, and when we fail he has the perfect scapegoat for that failure. What can we do about it?"

"I'm asking myself, why the fuck is he doing this? There has to be a reason."

"The reason would have to be financial, although I can't see why he would want the company to be devalued if he's going to sell it off. You would think that a healthy profit sheet would be more important."

"Unless . . . ." I was thinking that not even he would be that much of a bastard. "Unless he's going to pull a fiddle to cut his exposure to his upcoming divorce settlement from his soon to be ex."

"How would that work?"

"Well, if the company is showing a predicted heavy loss at the time of the settlement her share would be worth peanuts. He could sell it to a consortium that he forms in someone else's name and after the divorce goes through he buys it back for an agreed amount, making a profit into the bargain."

"But, if the company is predicted to make a loss, how is he going to make it profitable?"

"What if, the price that he has given us, based on last year's numbers, isn't the actual quote price, but the real one is a kite price." Note: Kite prices refers to the practise of 'flying kites'. That is issuing a statement with a price much higher than the real price. When there is opposition to this quoted price, it is revisited and the price is adjusted to one that is slightly higher than the break-even price, one that the market will bear, and one that still provides a respectable profit margin is released. The opponents of the original, or kite, price think that they have had a win, when in fact they have not. If you can, in some way get the company or department to accept this kite price you stand to make millions. "As the project progresses and we fall further behind the quote price he has someone to blame, me. After the settlement, he can fire me and bring someone else in who can magically turn around the company's fortunes and make a profit. In the mean time he has bought the company back."

"Do you think that he would do something like that?"

"Of course he would. He has two other ex-wives that must be costing him a fortune, add this one to the mix and he would have to turn a healthy profit just to break even. This is not something that he would be used to."

"So, if this is the case, how can we counter it, and would it be possible to turn it to our advantage?"

"I think so. Can you get me the company's balance sheets for the past year, and then get me a list of the suppliers, I want to talk with them, and while you're at it, I need costings on all of the materials on that schedule, last year's and this year's, I need to compare them."

We spent the rest of the day huddled in my office, and gradually a plan began to form. I made several phone calls and arranged several meetings for the following day. Sasha would have to hold the fort for the day.

"Rob," Sasha had a worried look on her face. "I need to talk." Now I had a worried look, whenever she needed to talk it meant that she was worried about something important.

Hours later we were seated in a restaurant with a meal in front of us. I took another mouthful of succulent steak and spoke around it. "What's bothering you?"

"When I was put in the position as your PA, I was working under instructions from Henry."

"Say no more, he asked you to keep an eye on me and make sure that somewhere down the line I made a ginormous stuff-up. He probably wanted me to get comfortable in your efficiency and accept your figures as gospel, and base what I did around them. And when I was totally accepting of your work, you were to slip in a set of false figures, and I would be blamed. He would then fire me and be able to tell Robyn that I was useless as an employee, just as I was useless as a husband."

"Something like that, how did you guess?"

"I know my brother, he's a past master at this sort of sleaze."

"So what do I do? He is after all my big boss."

"You behave as normal. Don't worry, everything is under control." I didn't know whether I could trust her with the knowledge of the results of my meetings today, not yet at least, I had one more test for her before I knew that I could fully trust her. What I hoped would happen was for her to stop reporting to Henry. I told her that, as things stood, we could, with a little creativity, squeak in under budget, but let any one thing go wrong and then we wouldn't manage it. If she reported this to Henry, then he would make sure that something went wrong, she would be ordered to sabotage my efforts. I would watch everything that she did for any sign that she was following Henry's orders and not working with me on this.

We held meetings with the guy who would site manage the project, making it clear to him that he would have to keep a tight rein on the contractors, and at the first sign of any problems, he was to contact me. I had worked with him before on projects, and was confident that he would run a tight ship.

As usual Henry held a press conference to announce the start of the new project. There was the ceremonial turning of the first sod, by our state Premier, with a gold spade, and a speech about how this project was an important part of the state's infrastructure, and predicting with confidence that it would be finished on time and within budget. "I have my best team on this project, so I don't anticipate any problems." He enthused for the cameras. Standing in the background, talking to Robyn, was the CEO of an interstate construction consortium. Interesting, very interesting.

Sasha and I partook of the celebratory cucumber sandwich and glass of cheap bubbly before returning to the office. "Well, It's all go from here." I said to her as we sat at my desk attempting to wash the taste of the cheap bubbly from our mouths. 'We have the construction time line here, what I want to do is to meet with the contractors before they come on stream, we need to clarify our position to them."

"I'll get onto them straight away." She left to call them, and arrange a meeting for tomorrow.

"What is the big secret?" She asked me. "You haven't told me anything about your meetings with the suppliers the other day."

"You will know soon enough."

"Don't you trust me?" She was concerned.

"Yes, I trust you, implicitly, but I have put a proposal to the suppliers and I'm waiting for them to get back to me with their compliance." What I haven't told her is that I am waiting to see if Henry contacts them to see what the arrangements are. If he does, then I know not to trust her. "As soon as that happens, I will tell you." If she tells Henry that I have some arrangement with the suppliers, and that she is unable to find out what it is, he will contact them directly to find out for himself, if he doesn't, she's in the clear. I'll know within a couple of days.

"Thank you all for coming in this morning." I addressed the contractors. "This project is going to be different from those that you have been involved in earlier, in that we have selected the suppliers that you will use for your materials. The reason for this is that we have given each of them a copy of the time line and the Quantity Surveyor's materials list. We have also given them a delivery requirement window so that they can ensure that all of the materials are in stock and ready for delivery at the times needed. They have also agreed to a fixed price for the materials, there will be no price increases over the construction time. These suppliers have guaranteed delivery as required, there are penalties involved in any failure to honour that guarantee. Any questions?"

"Yes, what if we have already made arrangements with other suppliers, will we be forced to change and use your recommended suppliers?"

"I think that you'll find that the suppliers that we have chosen for each of you will be the ones that you already use. We've just come to an arrangement that will benefit both you and them." That seemed to pacify them. The contracts that you have signed have time penalties built into them. We have been generous with our time windows, so if you fall behind you had better have a fucking good excuse, because you will not only hold up your phase of the project, but there will be a follow-on effect with the whole project. I need to remind you that the contract has a finish date that is set in concrete and if we don't bring it in on time it will cost us a shit load of money, and if it costs us, those costs will be passed on the the offending contractor."

I took Sasha out to dinner to celebrate the start of the new project, and, although she wasn't to know this, because I was now certain that I could trust her. After dinner I took her home and she invited me in for a nightcap. And yes we made love, several times, I surprised myself with my stamina almost as much as I surprised her.

"Wow, what brought that on?" She asked as I withdrew from her.

"I don't know, just me feeling good about us, that's all, and the fact that I love you."

"I love you too." She kissed me. "Are you staying the night or are you going to crawl off like a thief in the night?"

"No-one can ever accuse me of being a thief."

"I take it from that, that you're staying then?"

I kissed her and held her tightly for several minutes. "Does that answer your question?"

"Mmmm, yes. Goodnight Darling."

We toured the site as soon as the site office had been set up and the tower crane bedded down. The site works were in progress, earthmoving equipment was scurrying back and forth across the site, surveyors were placing datum pegs around for each of the buildings, trucks were spreading the road base that would be compacted, and form the base for the concrete rafts on which the buildings will sit.

"Everything set up here?" I asked George the site Manager.

"Yes, we have power, we have IT cabling in place and computers set up, and we have lift-off."

"We also have a problem." I had noticed Henry standing on the far side of the site talking to a man. "We can expect problems with the unions." I pointed across the site.

"We have already spoken to the unions and assured them of 100% membership."

"I still think that I need to have a polite chat to him." Henry had left and the organizer was striding purposefully across the site. He didn't notice me as he came through the door without knocking. He was just about to launch into his demands when I cut him short. "Hamish, I might have known that you'd be here first thing."

"Robert, I didn't see you there." His voice carried with it faint traces of a north of England accent that he inherited from his father, a well known union organizer of the past.