A/N- I was not expecting such a great response for the first chapter. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews.

I think that a couple people asked what TWoP and OCSFC mean. Television Without Pity, and The OC Sentence Fiction Challenge, respectively. I know that's an acronymic mess and I should have explained that earlier. Hope that helps.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Ties

Chapter One

Ryan's chin subtly moved back and forth to the beat of the photocopier. He'd lost count at 312, but it didn't matter, the copier would keep count. Still, the methodic whoosh and hum of each page as it entered and exited the machine was considerably hypnotizing and he found himself somewhat disappointed when the room became filled with silence.

He straightened his freshly pressed shirt before leaning down to pick up the stack of copies. For his first couple of days at The Newport Group, Kirsten had bought him two entirely new outfits. Ryan had been nervous enough starting just a day after Caleb had offered him the job, especially considering the fact that he'd had little to no time to prepare, but Kirsten's fussing had only compounded his apprehension. Apparently, with several new commercial buildings and residential areas in establishment, they needed all the help they could get; Ryan had no qualms about being the gopher.

Yesterday, Kirsten had shown up at Harbor to pick Ryan up for his first day at work with a garment bag containing one of Ryan's newest additions to his wardrobe. She'd forced him to change at school, claiming that even though he'd been to The Newport Group before, first impressions were crucial when starting a new job. He couldn't pinpoint whether or not Kirsten was fussing because she felt obligated to prepare him for the real world, or if she was worried that Ryan's unpolished presence could significantly tarnish her reputation. Ryan supposed it didn't really matter, but up to that point, he hadn't really been nervous. Up to that point….

So when he'd shown up at work today and found Kirsten's office empty, save for the wardrobe bag draped across the chair, he'd been quite relieved. A post-it note with his name on it and a short explanation about how she had some errands to run, was stuck loosely to the plastic. Soothing his own nerves was a large enough task as it was; he didn't want to have to worry about Kirsten's.

"Done?"

Ryan's head snapped up. Heather, one of the company's younger employees, was standing in the doorway of the copy room, a questioning smile on her face.

Ryan felt the sharp edges of the paper cutting into his skin before he realized he was gripping the stack of copies against his chest. He slowly uncurled his fingers and lowered the documents, smiling shyly.

There was nothing to be nervous about with Heather. She didn't expect him to grovel at her feet or kiss the ground she walked on; it appeared as though she was simply satisfied to have been assigned company. She'd even absorbed some of the blame for an error Ryan had made the day before when he'd thrown out a confidential document without first sending it through the shredder¾something that Ryan had quickly learned was a major faux pas. His mind had immediately been filled with images of black-clad bandits, sorting through the dumpsters after hours, searching for un-shred documents. It seemed ridiculous, but he wasn't going to argue; he was the first to admit he didn't know the first thing about running a major company. All he new was that the job paid a hell of a lot better than the Crab Shack.

"Yeah. Done."

"Good. Don't bleed all over them, though." She smiled and winked. Ryan eyes dropped to his hands, suddenly aware of the blood flowing freely from a paper cut on his index finger.

"Here." She offered him a tissue that she'd grabbed from the box on the shelves behind her. "I'll take those."

Ryan gratefully accepted and followed Heather into the hallway.

"I was going to ask you to have a look at the new plans for the strip mall, but the last thing I need is your blood on the prints. The architects would have my head. So," she said, turning her head briefly to make sure Ryan was keeping up, "I think we'll find you something else to do until you stop leaking."

Ryan nodded to her back and wrapped the tissue tighter around his finger.

Heather stopped behind her desk, slamming down the stack of copies. Ryan reluctantly sat in the chair facing her. He still felt weird sitting on the job.

"Heather."

Heather didn't flinch at the imposing voice; instead, she finished arranging her mail before lifting her head to acknowledge the big boss. "Mr. Nichol." Her voice was certain, her smile confident.

Caleb's eyes drifted to Ryan. Caleb nodded. Ryan nodded back.

"How's our newest employee doing?" Caleb posed the question without the slightest bit of sarcasm - at least, none that Ryan could detect.

"Well, besides having to deal with a nearly-fatal photocopying wound, he's doing just fine."

Ryan blushed at Heather's comment. Even though she was probably the youngest employee at her level in the company, she had an unwavering confidence that Ryan couldn't help but attribute to her success. He'd seen people scurry like rats when Caleb walked through the halls, but Heather remained calm, cool and collected. Ryan had a tremendous amount of respect for the woman.

"Good." Caleb smiled; the wrinkles around his eyes conveyed the sincerity of his gesture. He pulled back his shoulders and his faced changed instantly, becoming harder¾colder. Ryan could literally see the man switching gears. "I want the plans for the strip mall on my desk by tomorrow morning."

Ryan felt his own chest tighten as Caleb delivered the firm demand, but Heather casually leaned back in her chair, maintaining eye contact with her intimidator.

"You'll have them by six. Tonight," she shot back, her voice equally bitter.

Caleb smiled widely. "That's what I like to hear." He shifted to face Ryan. "Good luck keeping up with her."

For lack of a better response, Ryan smiled back and nodded. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to talk to Caleb - still thrown by the powerful man's sudden acquiescence. Caleb, however, seemed satisfied and continued on his way down the hall.

Ryan noticed that there were countless eyes on Heather and himself. Caleb had his employees by the tail¾and it was working for him.

"Now what the hell do I do with you while I'm slaving over these plans?" Heather's brow creased in thought as she fiddled with a pen.

"You seem pretty comfortable with Mr. Nichol," Ryan stated quietly.

She immediately stopped fiddling and met Ryan's eyes, looking around while formulating a response. "Between you and me," she said, leaning in over her desk and dropping her voice to a whisper, "the man scares the shit out of me."

Ryan's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Never in a million years would he have expected that response. Heather had seemed so at ease with Caleb - with everything.

Heather must have noted his shock because she laughed lightly. "Surprised, are you?"

"Well…you just seemed so…."

"Confident?"

Ryan shrugged and nodded; he supposed that accurately described Heather's demeanor.

"Let me let you in a little secret, Ryan. There isn't a chance in hell I'm going to have those plans done by six. Caleb leaves at five-thirty. Everyday. Like clock work. Do you think he gives a rat's ass whether or not they're on his desk by six tonight?"

Ryan opened his mouth to respond but Heather continued before he could get a word in.

"It's all about pleasing the right people, kid. Say the right things at the right time with the right poise, and you'll do just fine."

Ryan smiled, slightly baffled by Heather's explanation. She made it all look so easy.

"Like you, for instance. Don't get me wrong, I like you, Ryan, I really do, but facts remain that you're my boss' son. Disliking you… it isn't an option." She leaned back and smiled. She was honest. She had it all figured out.

Ryan manipulated the shredded pieces of tissue with his fingers, suddenly uncomfortable that the conversation was now revolving around him.

"Anyway…." Heather smiled genuinely, but Ryan was starting to question his perception of the person he'd thought was truly sincere. "Why don't you run this down to accounting for me? Just hand it over to Fred. He'll know what to do with it."

Ryan rose from his seat and accepted the binder from Heather's outstretched hands.

"Where-"

"East wing, third door past the elevators on your right," she interrupted before Ryan ask.

"And just give it to Fred?"

"That's all there is to it, kid. I'd let you help me here, but those numbers have to be in by five and, honestly, I don't want you around my plans with bloody fingers."

Ryan couldn't help but smile. Heather might be manipulative and scheming, but he still had a considerable amount of respect for her. Really, she was no different than everyone else trying to climb the corporate ladder, she'd just figured out how to play the game.

"Hold up," she called out, halting Ryan before he'd reached the corner. "Here," she removed her company card from the key chain attached to her belt loop. "You're probably going to need this to get in. I doubt your card's been coded for entry to accounting."

"Oh." Ryan was confused, he had no idea that certain employees were forbidden access to certain rooms. "You sure you want me to use yours?" He wasn't quite sure why he has nervous about accepting her card, but it struck him as dangerous.

"You go in, hand the binder to Fred, and leave. I'm under the impression you're not going to trash the place and lay the blame on me, right?" Her sarcasm wasn't lost on Ryan.

"I think the cameras would give me away." He smiled, gesturing to the nearest corner where a security camera was sited.

Heather stared at the wall, her faced lined with consideration, obviously deep in thought. "Not in accounting," she said quietly, turning to face Ryan.

"What?"

"There are no cameras in accounting," she repeated, her voice daring Ryan to ask another question.

"Oh…." To Ryan, it made no sense. He figured that if they were to have cameras anywhere, accounting would be the first place.

Heather turned when her phone started ringing. She seemed to be fighting some sort of internal battle. Finally, she turned back toward Ryan, her speech was rushed but still confident. "Just go, give it to Fred, and come back," she demanded with the same expression she'd adorned when she was addressing Caleb.

"Okay." Ryan accepted her card, his stomach churning with nervousness. He realized there was plenty he had to learn about working in such a large company, but he was afraid there was some information he didn't want to know.

"I mean it, Ryan," she warned over her shoulder as she walked toward her phone.

If Ryan didn't know any better, he'd say Heather had just showed weakness.

………………………

"A piñata? Yeah, that's a really good idea, Mom. Encourage violence at a Newport party."

"It's just for decoration." Seth watched his mom grab the multi-colored piñata under her arm while heading toward the garage where a stash of Ryan's party supplies already existed. "Besides, I thought we'd go for a light-hearted fiesta theme."

"Do you remember what happened the last time we were in Mexico? Or has that slipped your mind completely?"

The look on his mother's face prompted Seth to backpedal. Reminding her of Tijuana probably wasn't the smartest of all ideas. "Fiesta's good…yeah, that's fine. Fine…light-hearted. Excellent," he exaggerated through clenched teeth, finishing with two thumbs up.

She shook her head at his feigned enthusiasm as she returned from the secret storage area. "Don't ruin this for me, Seth."

"I'm thinking that this isn't so much about you, and it's a whole lot about Ryan." Seth zoned in on the half-read comic book on the counter in front of him while addressing his mother. "And I gotta tell ya, Mom, I can't see him being too thrilled about a party…especially one that completely revolves around him. I don't think there's enough tequila in the world…."

"There won't be tequila…."

"Well then, it's decided. The party will be a disaster."

"Seth!"

Seth shrugged in defeat, keeping his eyes on the detailed drawings of the comic book.

"I'm going to need you here on Friday after school. Ryan will be working and I'll need your help to set things up for when he comes home."

"I can't believe Grandpa hired him."

"Why? Ryan's an excellent worker."

"Not Ryan." Seth shook his head, flipping the comic book closed. "I can't believe Grandpa."

Kirsten smiled at her son's comment. She, too, had been mildly shocked when her father had offered Ryan a position at the family company. It was a step toward what she hoped would soon become a full-fledged acceptance party. Of all people, Ryan deserved it.

……………………….