Chapter #46The Last Days of a Good Man, Part 2 by: Nostrum   You wait until lunch time to answer both with calls. Out of deference – and concern – you call Tessa first. “How do you like my gift?” she repeats with a sultry voice.
“Tess, what was that?”
“A little boost to your aspirations, love.”
“You hypnotized him, right?”
You can’t judge if Tessa’s silence wants to create expectation or subtly warn you. “I made him see our ways. Understand that a little call can take you places.”
“And what about that company? You’re trying to push the pens elsewhere?”
“It’s a little side business, yes. Limited availability, but much easier than selling through people.”
“Why? What if someone from Edgefield or Tyneside buys one and--?”
“Honey, we’d have their personal information. And lots of experience handling those. For the price we’ll be selling them, we’ll be raking in a fortune in no time.” She snickers, sounding very amused. “Oh, what am I saying? You will be raking a fortune in no time.”
“I don’t feel very comfortable with that.”
“Do consider that Hartzmann Supplies will offer more traditional merchandise. I intend it to be a legitimate business, after all – it won’t close once our ‘limited edition’ collections are gone.”
“So you’re not doing this as a front for anything.”
“Absolutely, my dear. I want you to help this endeavor grow. I want you to give it your all. After all, it just might be yours.”
Mine? “Tess, what do you mean by--?”
“I won’t interrupt you. I’m sure you must be swamped by work. Oh, and pay attention to the news! You may be shocked.”
She hangs, and further attempts to call her are denied. You feel she’s playing with you. And you don’t like leaving Cassie without all the details. “What’s that about Hartzmann Supplies!?” she demands.
“It’s some sort of startup your mom’s pushing or something.”
“I’m trying to get inside Hoover’s office, see if I can nuke the files on his hard drives, and all of a sudden she asks me if I can do a web page for this company she wants to invest on. About--”
“Office and calligraphy supplies through an online model,” you hastily reply. “It’s something I pushed to Hoover to prove him I’m good for my position, but somehow I’m now managing that contract.”
“Oh,” she chirps. “If it’s you, then I’ll have it by tomorrow morning.”
“It’ll be some time before I can manage that contract.”
“Doesn’t matter. If Mom helped you push it, and it’s your idea--”
“It’s not exactly my idea. I just saw the pens – you know which – and decided I had to handle it.”
“Oh, so it’s that kind of business! Yeah, figures it’d be tied to Mom. I’m surprised, though.”
“Why?”
“Well, she obviously wanted you to handle it. She knew you’d react once you saw the pens and deduced you’d claim the contract to handle it before anyone else would to protect them.”
“You’re saying she manipulated me into taking it.”
“Sounds harsh, I know, but that’s how she plays. Tell me something. What does she want you to do with that company?”
“Guide them on storage and distribution logistics. That’s basically my job – well, guiding those who do, doing it in occasions--”
“Bestie, stay focused. So, storage and distribution logistics. Basically, you’re in control of how they’ll sell stuff, right?”
“More like telling them how and making the connections--”
“So basically you’re telling them where to store it and how to do it. Same shit.” You try to discuss the peculiarities, but you figure you’ll waste time trying to argue. You choose to hear her point instead. “I dunno, but I think she’s putting you in charge of distributing the pens.”
“I don’t work for the company. I just do consulting.”
“Bestie, you’re not seeing it the way Mom does. It’s still too early to tell, but I feel she wants you to handle the pens indirectly. If you ask me, she’s dumping a lot of responsibility on you.”
“Why?”
“You’re still asking?” She scoffs. “Bestie, like I said, it’s too early to tell, but she pushes those she trusts a lot harder than those she doesn’t. Why do you think I was chill until she gave you this request?”
“So you’re telling me she pushed that contract on me because she trusts me?”
“Gonna repeat this – too early to tell. She obviously trusts you, but I think there’s something else behind this. I’m gonna repeat this to you in a week. Maybe then, you’ll have your answer.”
With a chirpy “bye!”, Cassie leaves you in disarray. Is Tessa playing with you? What’s her ultimate plan?
--
It’s been a couple of days since you got assigned the contract with Hartzmann Supplies. Today, you had your first conversation with one of their executives.
At first instance, the contact – Jacob Hartzmann – seems green, but eager and willing to make his company grow. His proposal seems very vanilla, and when you asked about the pens, he seemed unaware of their true purpose. But as the conversation continued, Darlene’s mind made an interesting observation. He wasn’t talking as a peer. He was talking as a subordinate. Your subordinate.
That gave you food for thought. Obviously, this may be a result of someone trying to impress, or perhaps someone new to the industry (such as yourself), but Cassie’s warning rings in your mind – just as your phone rings. As you answer, you hear your girl in a very foul mood. “Your wife and I had a talk.”
“Babe? You’re on a good spot?”
“I’m on the roof,” she tells you. “Told Dad I had a fight with Melissa Lowry – think Sonya but blonde, Caucasian and bitchier.”
“Alright. First of all, Tessa’s not my wife.”
“Whatever. She asked me to talk after school. We had a talk.”
“And?”
“I don’t know what she’s doing to Hoover, but I don’t like it.”
“I wish I knew, babe. I wish I could tell you--”
“Here’s the deal. Don’t call me. Don’t talk to me. Don’t look for me.”
“Why?”
“You don’t have to know. Just know that your woman and I had a serious talk. She asked me something. She made her move. Don’t talk to me, don’t look for me, don’t seek me at all.”
Furious barely explains what you’re hearing. It’s a sharp, jagged knife to your heart, coming from a universe of scorn. “Babe. Listen. I--”
“I said my piece. Something big’s coming, Rachel. I hope you’re happy with it.”
She gives you no opportunity to talk or even explain. That beep felt like the end – like watching an endless abysm, your hand extended, as that which you most love throws away into it.
You’re so mired into depression that not even a bubble bath soothes you. You feel your flesh – your flesh, not the worthless grub that inhabits it – clammy and heavy and itchy. You submerge into the sink, and even as you feel breathless, you just want your sadness to hold you tight.
Perhaps, you feel, if you embrace it, it will eventually wash away...
--
You wake up between coughs. Cassie is looking at you, horrified. “Bestie!” she says, her hand straightened into a slap, but vacillating. “What got into you!?”
“Why the hell did you take me out of there!?” You break into tears, trembling, and Cassie’s hug does little to help.
“Alright, you’re into some deep shit. Let me guess – it's got to do with Mom and your babe, right?”
“You knew, right?” You push her, snarling. “You knew all along!”
“Knew what?” Your furious lashing is met with a tight, strong arm and a strong press to your lips from her finger. “All I know is that the only thing that’s gonna make you hurt badly is either because Mom fucked you over, or your babe left you. And judging by your reaction, it’s both.”
“Jess doesn’t want to talk to me,” you confess. “When she told me Tessa made the switch, it sounded like it hurt her. I knew what she meant, but... And before, she asked me why we were doing this, and I’m wondering... Why are we doing this?”
“Because Mom wants to deal with an enemy,” she responds, rather bluntly. “I think it’s too late for you to develop a conscience.”
“But now, she wants to cut all connections with me. Doesn’t want me to call, or to talk, or to look for her. She doesn’t wanna give any explanations – well, other than Tessa had a talk with her. All she said is, ‘she made her move’, and that’s when she told me to stay away.”
“Maybe it’s because she doesn’t want you to get hurt?” That question destroys you, but Cassie refuses to give up. “Listen - maybe Jess’s a little resentful, a little hurt, but maybe she wants to keep a secret--”
“What secret? I can keep a secret.”
“Yeah, and so do I, but there’s secrets you can keep, and secrets you shouldn’t know. This sounds like the second one.” She grabs your shoulders tight. “Give it time, alright? Maybe she’s just on her period or something.”
“Cassie, have we’ve been on our periods?”
“Come to think about it, we haven’t. But maybe she does? Probably it’s a girl-turning-into-girl thing. Anyways, she’s pissy, she’s on a mood, so give her some time. Take it easy. And whatever you do, when you choose to take a bath, fucking tell me when you’re depressed, alright? You’re too pretty to be replacing your breath of life with soapy water.”
Her comment makes you laugh, then cough some more. Cassie gives you plenty of water for gargles and consumption, scouring the Internet for clues of poisoning. Yet, as she returns – yourself feeling well, if your taste buds overwhelmed by the flavor of suds – you see her face a pale white besides for some fiercely glowing blushes.
“What’s wrong?” you ask as you see her grabbing the remote. You rarely see TV, but she surfs the local channels until you see a news flash. Then, it hits you.
You recognize the car in the crash. And it doesn’t take too long before you hear who was inside.
“Just received – local alderman and businessman Stanley Hoover, aged 45, has been found at the crash site...” You have the following choice: 1. Continue |
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