Thinking of You

by Rachel Kane

  But I wondered what it was like, seeing him in court. Did he play the nice guy, like me, getting witnesses and jurors to trust him, laying traps that looked like safety? Or did he go hard, like Val, getting straight to the facts of the case, a recitation of events so cold and linear that their power could not be denied?

  I wished I could’ve stayed with him, even if just for another day. We were at the beginning of something exciting, and all I wanted to do was watch him. The way his body moved, the way his face lit up.

  When I’d dropped my stuff off at my apartment, I realized I’d left my sketchbook back in Corinth. I wondered if Micah had seen the pictures I’d done of him. Was he flattered by them? Could he tell how much he meant to me?

  But I needed to keep my attention on this meeting. I couldn’t keep drifting off.

  While Val spoke, both the men looked at me, as though I could offer them support, as though I could make their case for them.

  “Guys, look,” I said. “Forget the numbers for a minute. You’re gonna crash and burn without us. Nobody wants that. You worked hard to build your company, and you deserve to see it succeed. But for us, what do we get out of it? We’re not the bank. We don’t make loans. I promise you, you’re not going to go broke once we get involved. It’s painless. We’re not silent partners, but we’re not going to micromanage either, at least not after things get stable.”

  They looked at each other, and Andrew, who clearly had cold feet about the whole deal, said, “We want to keep all the employees. Our company is important to the town. Lots of these guys, we’re their only chance at a career.”

  Normally I would’ve just nodded at this and given him the speech.

  Normally I wouldn’t have thought too much about his employees.

  But what would Micah say? Responsible, ethical Micah? Would he be horrified, if he knew how many people were fired during our takeovers? Would he look at me differently? Would he not want to be with me?

  Then again, who was he to judge? Wasn’t he taking money from some gangster or something?

  This is the way life worked. You made some compromises with yourself, with your ethics.

  Right?

  So I made the speech.

  “I’m not going to lie to you,” I said. “We may find you have too many people on payroll.”

  “One hundred and thirty-five people too many,” said Val, and I kicked him under the table. He wasn’t supposed to give actual layoff numbers yet, or these guys would put up a fight. Damn it, Val, let me do my bit first.

  “Unacceptable,” said Andrew.

  “Andy, hold on, let’s hear what he has to say,” insisted Neil.

  “You know the deal, guys. You know what we do. We come in, and we cut the fat. Your business will do fine…but there will be sacrifices.”

  “And it won’t be our business anymore,” said Andrew. “It’ll be yours.”

  “You’ll stay on the board,” I said, “with a nice compensation package.”

  “While my workers are on the unemployment line looking for food stamps?”

  Neil called us a little later. We were in Val’s office, and Val put him on speaker.

  “I need to apologize for Andy,” he said.

  Val started to speak, but I shushed him. Facts and figures wouldn’t help right this second. It took a soft touch.

  “No need for that,” I said. “We’ve been through this a million times. We know it can be a rough transition for you.”

  “I just… Andy’s a good guy, right? But he’s talking about cashing out. Taking some of the management with him.”

  I glanced at Val, my brow creased with worry.

  “Neil, let me get back to you. Sit tight, okay? Don’t worry, we want this deal as much as you do.”

  Clicking the phone off, I said, “If they lose half their management…”

  “There’s no company for us to buy,” finished Val.

  “And if there’s no company for us to buy…”

  “Harrison Holdings doesn’t meet its growth projections, and investors begin to pull out.”

  “And if investors pull out, we’ll be poor hobos trying to catch the next boxcar out west.”

  Val’s lips tightened. “You don’t have to make jokes, Theo. This is serious. We need to buy their company…and the deal needs to be solidly on the books by the end of the year.”

  “But you saw that Andy guy. He doesn’t like us. He’d rather walk.”

  Val shrugged. “There are ways around that. We could send a full management team in. Replace everyone. It would require more supervision than a normal deal.”

  I shook my head. “How are we going to do that? Who are we going to find, that’s willing to move out to Missouri for a year? Our guys like to travel, but I don’t think any of them want to relocate.”

  Then I realized Val was staring steadily at me. I began to get a creeping feeling. So this is what it’s like on the other side of the table, I thought.

  I realized what he was thinking.

  “Val, no. Absolutely not.”

  “It makes perfect sense, Theo.”

  “I am not moving to Missouri. Didn’t you just tell me how much you needed me right here with you? That I couldn’t spend even one extra day with Micah, the company needed me so much?”

  “We need this deal, more than I need you here. It’s simple math. If you go, I know the transition will be in good hands. The investors will be satisfied.”

  Val didn’t have a minibar in his office. A shame, because I needed a drink now, much more than I had back at lunch.

  “You understand I’m just starting a new relationship, right? You know that I’m seeing Micah?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t understand that, no. You haven’t seen him in years. How can you suddenly be back together with him?”

  “That’s not the point, the point is—”

  “I am by no means an expert on relationships, but how serious can it be, if you’ve only been reintroduced to him a short while ago?”

  “Oh hell, Val, do I have to explain everything to you? I never stopped loving Micah, okay? You ripped me away from him, you told me to stop seeing him!”

  “Yes, because you were needed here at the company.”

  “I’m all grown up now, you see? I can make my own decisions. My brother doesn’t get to interfere in that.”

  “So the company founders, while you immerse yourself in nostalgia? Suddenly I’m glad Mother wants to sell the house. We’re going to need the money, if you ruin us with your impulsive decision-making.”

  “Christ, she’s not going to sell the house, okay? I’ll make sure of that.”

  “From Missouri?”

  “I’m not going to Missouri.”

  Val sighed. “I do not like circular conversations. You are angry. Your face is all red. You’re not thinking clearly.”

  “I’m thinking very clearly, thanks. Why don’t you go halfway across the country—”

  “It is less than a thousand miles.”

  “Even better! You do it!”

  It was pointless to try to fight with Val. Val didn’t fight. His emotions didn’t run in that direction. Once he had decided on a course of action—for himself, for you—he put it forward slowly but undeniably, not giving you any room to maneuver.

  He brushed away my remark. “Obviously I cannot do it. I’m needed here. You are needed there.”

  “Micah needs me here.”

  “We cannot put a multimillion-dollar deal on hold while you have a weekend fling, Theo.”

  I could tell I wasn’t going to be able to reason with him. I could say no as many times as I wanted, and he’d just keep coming back, calm, certain.

  He’d worked it all out. I was sure of that. He had a perfectly logical plan in his head, and the only way the planned worked, was for me to move.

  How come his plans always involved me being away from Micah?

  More than ever, I needed to see Micah. I needed to feel that certainty with him, n
eeded to recharge.

  I looked back at Val. “I’m flying down to Corinth for the evening.”

  His eyes widened only slightly. “You’re making the wrong decision, Theo.”

  22

  Micah

  If the looks I’d been getting before were hostile, then today they were absolutely bloodthirsty. As I walked past desks towards Jay’s office, people went silent, staring at me. I had the most ominous feeling about this.

  Part of me had wondered if Braddock was ready to confess, come clean, admit to all his misdeeds, and sign over a fat check to avoid any jail time. Maybe that’s what he’d meant by all of this going away.

  But the chill in this office suggested something else.

  When I reached Jay’s office, he seemed to be burning with a barely-restrained fury. “Sit down, Micah. Close the damn door first.”

  I found myself obeying, feeling like a school kid called into the principal’s office. “So, I wanted to ask you—”

  “No,” he said. “You don’t ask. You listen.”

  His thick neck strained against his tight collar. Was I in trouble? What the hell was going on? I was just trying to work a case. And anyway, this guy wasn’t a judge, we were on the same level, why was he acting like he had power over me?

  It didn’t feel like the right moment to point that out. I was going to have to play along.

  “I’m listening.”

  “You can tell your client that this office is dropping its investigation against him.”

  I blinked. That was exactly the opposite of what I expected. I almost felt like I was going to be arrested for having represented Braddock in the first place.

  “That’s…a surprise,” I said.

  “Is it, Reynolds? Is it? On behalf of the state attorney’s office, let me just say how fucking pleased we are to be the ones to bring you this goddamn surprise. All Braddock’s shit is neatly packed. You take it back. We’re not touching it. Not one single more page. You got me? It’s all you.”

  “Look, I haven’t worked one of these cases before, I don’t know how they usually go—”

  “Nah, I bet most of Braddock’s cases never make it to court, do they? Witnesses go missing, that sort of thing?”

  It began to dawn on me what he was getting at.

  “What exactly are you accusing me of, Jay?”

  He held up his flat hands, scowling. “The state is not accusing you or your client of anything. That’s the fucking point. But I’ll tell you this. You step foot in this office again, and I’ll have you arrested. You hear me? You might win this time, but there’s not going to be a next time. Understand?”

  I needed to talk to Braddock. I needed to understand what had happened, since I wasn’t going to get anything from Jay but threats.

  He showed me to the door, as though he were afraid of me stealing something off his desk when his back was turned.

  “Thanks, I guess,” I said.

  “Listen,” he said in a harsh whisper. “I thought better of you, Reynolds. I thought you were one of the good guys, not some consigliere for a small-time hood. Are you sure this is what you want to do with your life?”

  I didn’t answer—I couldn’t, without talking to Braddock—but his question echoed in my mind all the way back to the office.

  * * *

  “Will you be there?” asked Theo over the phone.

  “God yes,” I said. “Come to my apartment tonight. I’ll be done with this business by then.”

  At least, I hoped I would.

  * * *

  Braddock met me at a restaurant in one of his uptown buildings. Dark, secluded, utterly empty this time of day. I had the worst feeling someone was going to come out of the shadows and shoot me. He was at a round table in the back, and gestured for me to take a seat. There was a bottle of wine next to two glasses.

  “I hear you got some good news for me,” he said.

  “I don’t know if it’s good or not. They’re dropping the case.”

  He smacked his hand on the table. “Damn right they are! I told you not to work too hard. Now, about your payment—”

  “Hold up a second,” I said. “What did you do?”

  “Do? What do you mean, what did I do? I didn’t do a thing. I’m innocent. You know that, Mr. Lawyer.”

  The restaurant was so empty. So quiet. Quiet enough that I could almost hear people behind me, holding their breaths, ready to come down on my skull with a steel pipe.

  I drank the offered red wine. I needed to steady my nerves. Wouldn’t do me any good to imagine things.

  “Look,” I said, but he cut me off.

  “You don’t need to know. Nah, nah, I know you want to know. Or you think you do. But do you?”

  I leaned over the table. “Sunday, you were telling me how hard I’d need to work on this case. You were furious. Then last night you call and tell me not to worry about it. That’s not normal,” I said. “I need to know who I’m working with. This was going to be a tricky case. It wasn’t clear-cut. You stood the risk of massive fines…if not worse. And now it just goes away? That wasn’t my doing.”

  He smirked. “I like you, Micah. You’re honest. It’s like working with a choirboy. And I think you’re going to enjoy the next job I have for you—”

  “I am honest, and I need some honesty from you, too,” I said. “What did you do to the state attorney’s office, to make them drop the case?”

  “Do? What did I do? I’m gonna let you in on a secret. The key to this business is, you never do. You talk. You suggest. What do you think, Reynolds, that I went up to that fat-necked bastard and told him I’d burn his house down if he didn’t drop the case? You think I’d do that?”

  More wine. “I don’t know what you’d do, that’s the problem.”

  He poked his finger down at the table. “I talked to a few people. Then they talked to a few people. That’s all I know, that’s all I want to know. That’s how the world works, boy. Trading favors for favors. Sometimes you don’t know right away if someone will help, so you got to get your lawyer involved.”

  “So you paid someone to threaten Jay.”

  Shaking his head, like I was missing the point. “You don’t get to where I am in life by making threats, or god forbid, knocking someone’s shit over. If I need someone to get threatened in a legal way, I talk to you about it. If I need something a little more…direct, then I know who to talk to about that.”

  “The mob,” I said.

  He grimaced. “This ain’t a movie, kid. You aren’t gonna find a bunch of huddled men with scars on their faces plotting a hit. Forget all that shit. Here in the real world, it’s not about who you know, it’s about how many you know. Networking. No different than your business. I don’t know the state attorney, and I don’t know his little fireplug there in the insurance office. I don’t know what anybody might have on him. Gambling? Girls? Boys? Who the hell knows. I keep my hands clean. It’s hints, Micah. Suggestions. Maybe a dollar or two in the right place. All these problems are bureaucratic problems, and they gotta be solved by people who don’t give a shit about bureaucracy or paperwork.”

  My glass was empty. He moved to refill it, but I put my hand over the top.

  “I don’t want to work for criminals, Braddock. That’s not why I got into this. You keep your hands clean? I want mine to be spotless. This ends it between us. I can’t represent you.”

  He laughed at that. He reached over and took the glass out from under my hand, refilled it, pushed it back to me. “A goddamn honest shark. You think I don’t know what you are? You think I don’t know what goes on in that snow-white brain of yours? I like you, Micah, and it’s not necessary for you to like me. I don’t need a friend, I need that fucking shark. Sharks never stop swimming, did you know that? If they hold still, they die. That’s you. I don’t care if you don’t like me, I don’t care if you have fucking ethical reservations. Of course you do. That’s what I want. I want a fucking bug in my ear. I want goddamn Jiminy Cricket to b
e my conscience.”

  With a sigh, I lifted my glass and had another sip. “I don’t think you’re getting my point, Braddock.”

  “Trust me. I get it. You know, I talked to your partner.”

  For a split second I thought he meant Theo, and froze. But no, he just meant Bernard.

  “Did you?”

  “Oh yes. He told me about your situation, with your mom. Sad thing, not being able to take care of your mother in the manner you want to. My mother has a condo in Florida. All paid for. Beautiful place. She’s got herself a little golf-cart, rides it all around. Never a worry. She gets a bill, she sends it to me. I send a boy over to get her groceries for her. It’s a nice life. You want your mom to have a life like that, don’t you? Doesn’t have to be in Florida, but they like it warm when they get old. Get her set up, hell, maybe here in Corinth. One of those nice places on the west side of town. Let her enjoy an early retirement. You want that, don’t you?”

  I was fucking uncomfortable with him talking about my mom. I didn’t want Braddock Moore within five hundred miles of her. I didn’t want her to know that men like him existed.

  “We’re working it out,” I said.

  “Be a hell of a lot easier to work out if you had some money.”

  “I’ll make it,” I said.

  He shook his head. “Nah. Not by yourself. You’re a good man, Reynolds, but you’re not a salesman. You don’t put yourself forward. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life with small-time cases, but that’s where you’re headed. I’m giving you a chance for something better.”

  Something better? Or just something morally compromised?

  “Braddock—”

  He raised a finger. “A moment. Look. Not everything is going to be like this insurance fraud case. The thing I’ve got coming up next, not a hint of any crime. You won’t have to worry about that at all. I’ll keep your hands clean. It’s just a little thing, some hippies trying to block a development. You ever been to that fucking swamp south of town? You know what I’m talking about? Nothing but acres of mud? Picture this: A whole new town built there. Lush. Big houses. Gated community. Little Main Street, pretty little stores all laid out orderly. It’ll attract all the money in Corinth. Everybody’s going to want to live there. Snotty-ass bankers with their little wives who think they’re better than everybody else. I got real estate agents begging me to do this. I got people ready to sign over their first-born to invest. It’s going to be serious money, my friend, and I want you to be a part of it.”