Pent Up

by Damon Suede

  The horror on Tibbitt’s face said plenty.

  Andy sat back and licked his lip slowly. “Ruben is my boyfriend, Herb.” He snuck a glance back at Ruben. “Well, I think he is.”

  Grin. “He is.”

  A circle of country clubbers now eavesdropped without apology.

  The old man spluttered. “Not here.”

  “Uh, no. There are vile homos right here in Scarsdale, I can promise. In this room, even.” Andy dropped a hand into Ruben’s lap.

  Ruben was too startled to protest, too pleased to be embarrassed. Instead he leaned back and gave Andy access. This was his show. “We can prove it to you. On the fucking table if you want.”

  Andy cupped Ruben’s balls. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

  Tibbitt’s face and neck turned the color of raw liver. “You’re disgusting. Both of you.”

  “I’m so glad to hear it, Herb.” Andy grinned, full dimple deployment. “Now that we’re all in business together.”

  “Don’t be preposterous.” The old man looked ashen. He glanced round the room of suburbanites. “This will kill your mother.” He looked out at the course again, anxious and morose.

  “This will. Not you bankrupting her. Not you ruining my father’s company. Not you kidnapping and assaulting us. Not you going to federal prison as a fraud and a coward.” Andy crossed his arms. “Me being with a guy.”

  Ruben grinned. “A brown one, vato.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You can’t shake me. You’ll only hurt your mother.”

  “No. She survived divorce, mah-jongg, and faking orgasms under you twice a year. She’s indestructible.”

  Tibbitt raised his voice finally. “God—” Guests turned. His voice dropped to a low whisper as he held up his mobile phone. “Damn it, Andrew. All I have to do is dial the SEC.”

  “You’re all hiding from me.” A woman’s hoarse voice cut the air in a broad mid-Atlantic saw, like Katharine Hepburn with a quart of bourbon in her. Then she caught Ruben’s stare and revealed eyes the same blue-gray flannel he knew so well. This had to be—

  “Mother.” Andy turned.

  “Andrew Bauer. Brunch at the club. There’s pork in the treetops.” She winked at Ruben as if he’d laughed along with her. Her accent and elocution made her sound as if she’d learned English abroad. She said nothing about their injuries or odd clothing. Maybe it was impolite to ask?

  Cilla stopped and crossed her thin arms, a fragile, blowsy woman, her auburn hair shot with gray. “With a handsome stranger.”

  Andy sighed. “Hardly hiding.”

  His stepfather began to fidget and signaled a waitress for a refill. “And a vodka grapefruit for my wife.”

  “Well, I had no idea where to look.” Cilla gave a lonely, frazzled smile. “I’m not clever like that.”

  “I bet you are, ma’am.” Ruben blinked at her with genuine warmth.

  “He called me ‘ma’am,’” she said to her son, husband, and anyone else in earshot. “Are you Southern?”

  “Florida.”

  “Ohh.” She made that one syllable sound as though he’d announced he’d survived leukemia. “But you’re in the city now.” She giggled hoarsely until he nodded. Without a doubt, she was the source of Andy’s goofy charm and his sense of fun.

  On the other side of the table, Tibbitt eyed his wife with unfiltered contempt.

  Ruben thought of his own mother changing a tire. Andy’s mom had never had her hands in cold water. She didn’t act like a snob at all. She acted like a prisoner. She resembled nothing so much as a bird with clipped wings, flapping in circles and staring at the sky.

  Down in Florida, Ruben had sat in a hundred AA meetings with ladies like this: dutiful dolls who realized they’d sold themselves for pennies on the dollar. Ruben loved his parents, but he’d always felt separate. As if his invitation to their party had been lost in the mail. Cilla’s ditzy intimacy made him feel like a fellow conspirator, part of the family.

  She looked up at Ruben. “Who might this big fellow be?”

  “Ruben Oso, ma’am.” He took her fragile hand and squeezed lightly, winking to disguise his crook face.

  “Greek. Or Egyptian. You have to be. Portuguese?”

  He corrected her gently. “My family is Colombian.”

  The waitress returned with drinks. Cilla’s had a salted rim.

  “Mom.” Andy took a breath. “Ruben is my boyfriend.”

  Long pause. She blinked at him and at the floor. She squeezed Ruben’s fingers back, with light involuntary pressure.

  “Really, Andrew.” Tibbitt crossed his arms. “Cilla, we were talking business. I had no—”

  She finally beamed up at Ruben, then her son. Those eyes. “But that’s marvelous.”

  Andy blinked. “It is?”

  Tibbitt glared at the other brunchers who were pretending not to watch. “This is not the place—”

  Cilla touched her hair absently. “Oh honestly, Herbert. You’d think I’d been packed in cotton my entire life. I watch cable. I’m a big girl,” said the woman who probably weighed a hundred and five pounds in a full gown.

  Ruben grinned at Tibbitt, then at her. She finally let go of his hand, but only to pat his arm.

  “Where did you meet?” Cilla sipped her Salty Dog carefully.

  Andy asked, “You’re not surprised?”

  “Well, of course I’m surprised, Andrew. I had no idea you were… that way, but you work too much, and you’ve never been serious about your women. Any of them.”

  Ruben considered Tibbitt’s purple face.

  She scrunched her face at Ruben and blinked warmly. “Not serious, serious.”

  That word.

  “Thanks.” Andy hugged her and kissed the side of her stylish head. “Mom.”

  That warmth lit something in her. She patted Ruben’s arm conspiratorially. “You’re very sturdy, Mr. Oso. And so handsome.”

  “He is.”

  Cilla straightened her wedding ring. “And if you ended up like your… father, hiding in tax exile, I’d have felt such a failure.” She glanced at her husband, unaware she was keeping a secret everyone knew.

  Across the table, Tibbitt did a good impression of a gray trout choking on the air.

  Andy sat back. “Herb is going into business with me, so I’ll be seeing much more of you.” Eyes on Tibbitt. “Both.”

  Tibbitt’s weak smile felt better than a crisp hundred.

  Ruben exhaled, finally and fully. Now brunch sounded excellent. He wanted to sit here and watch this asshole squirm in front of his neighbors for hours. He stroked the back of Andy’s head, smoothing and teasing at the cowlick.

  Cilla eyed the pair of them, pausing on their injuries. “Now, how did you get so mashed up the pair of you? Is that some kind of rough sex thing?”

  Ruben’s face heated.

  Tibbitt closed his mouth in an ugly crumple.

  “Honestly, Herb,” She scoffed at him. “I’m not a child.”

  But Andy chuckled. “No, Mother. We’ve been out in the woods, got lost, separated. Couple mishaps finding our way home.” The lie came smoothly off his lips. His predator eyes flicked to Herb, daring him to pipe up. “We found each other again.”

  “One of those survival weekends,” Ruben offered. “We survived.”

  She beamed back. “Oh good. My son’s up in that apartment too much.”

  “Amen.”

  Two skinny waiters returned to clear the plates and top up the drinks. The bill landed in front of Tibbitt. Cilla waved to a family with a baby.

  Ruben muttered to Andy, “I love your mother.”

  Andy said, “Give her time.”

  “Hush, you.” Cilla turned back, but she looked pleased at the teasing.

  Herb glared with all the menace of a confused bath mat. His mouth opened and closed but nothing emerged.

  Ruben understood perfectly. Andy’s announcement had stolen the righteous victory from Tibbitt. At the very moment the old man would have raised a gl
ass in the country club and crowed about the Apex partnership, he was forced to zip it.

  If it hadn’t been for you meddling kids.

  Cilla stroked the rim of her glass. “You two had better play nice now.”

  “She’s right.” Andy swung cold eyes back in that direction. “Dad.”

  Tibbitt looked relieved. “Excellent. We’ll speak tomorrow.”

  Cilla stood. “Oh, now….”

  “Well, we didn’t mean to crash, and we’ve got a meeting back in the city. Lawyers.” Andy stood. “Don’t get up.”

  Tibbitt did not.

  Cilla did. She looped her arm through Ruben’s. The pressure on his bruised ribs felt like fire, but he let her. “I suspect you’re a treasure. I like him, Andrew.”

  “I do, too, Mom.” Andrew’s blue-felt eyes fell on them. “A whole lot.”

  “And you boys will come to dinner. Now that my son has finally zipped his pants.” She rolled her eyes and whispered to Ruben. “Whoring around, I mean. He gets that from Royce. His father, I mean.” A glance at Tibbitt. “Biological, you know. Promise you’ll come.”

  Ruben squeezed back, almost following her logic. “Cross my heart. And you’ll come to dinner too.”

  “Do you cook?”

  “No, ma’am, but I make a mean reservation.”

  “My favorite.” Cilla laughed like chandelier crystal knocking together.

  Ruben made his way through the brunchers at an easy pace, happy to be stared at for once.

  Andy’s hand rested on his back with proprietary pressure. “Let ’em look.”

  Ruben laughed. “Poor bastards.”

  Outside they waited in happy silence, retrieved their stolen car, and drove home to break the bad news to Hope.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  YOU ONLY live once. But if you do it right, once is plenty.

  Ruben drove them back, five miles under the speed limit. This time of day on a summer weekend was dead, and they made it back to Park Avenue crazy fast. Ruben parked out front. As they passed the desk, Andy tossed the keys at the doormen.

  A floppy-haired kid caught them. “Sir.”

  “Just park it in one of my spots.” Andy hesitated long enough to explain. “A guy will come pick it up sometime this week.”

  Ruben went right to that elevator button. He needed to get off his feet, throw up, eat something—in whatever order came naturally.

  Andy joined him as the doors opened, and they rode up in relieved silence.

  Happily, Hope was waiting for them upstairs, and the police were not. She stood in the living room, looking out over the city.

  “Well, hello, Ms. Stanford.” Andy headed for the living room. “Some day off.”

  Ruben smiled at her and nodded. We’re okay.

  “Oh thank God. You don’t know. What a day.” She turned to Andy, her face hopeless. “I’m fired.”

  “What?”

  “You’re firing me. Are they putting us all in prison?” She vibrated with anxiety.

  Ruben held out a hand. “What are you talking about?”

  “Look at the pair of you. I’m gonna call the cops now.”

  “No!” Andy held up a hand. “Not necessary.”

  “Andy, you tell me what I gotta say and I’ll say it. You been good to me.” She straightened. “You know I will.”

  For a second, Ruben could see the ballerina in her, her long neck and the line of her proud jaw. “Apex.”

  “C’mere.” Andy smiled gently. “C’mon. Jeez, I never should have dragged you through all this.”

  “No.” She looked like a guitar string on the verge of breaking and curling.

  “I’m out of business. That doesn’t have to mean you are.”

  She blinked. “Bullshit.”

  Ruben shrugged. “What the man says.”

  “You’re not fired. I’m retiring. Hang on.” Andy trotted down the hall toward the office.

  Ruben and Hope eyed each other.

  She didn’t move. “He okay?”

  Ruben nodded.

  “You?”

  He shrugged, then smiled.

  “Okay.” She exhaled, as if she’d been holding her breath.

  Sounds down the hall. A low curse. Ruben sat down at the dining room table, and after a couple of minutes, Hope did as well.

  Andy’s voice came back down the hall as he did. “Mr. Oso and I have negotiated a very fair settlement with the other party.”

  Hope waited.

  He dropped a stack of pages between them on the table. “I’m giving you half of Apex. Fifty percent.”

  No reply. She turned to look at Ruben. “Is he shitting me?”

  Surprised, Ruben shook his head.

  Andy grinned. “Nope. Half the company. But there’s a catch. A big, ugly one.”

  “Goddamn it.” She kept managing not to cry. “I can’t to go to prison. I’ve worked too damn—”

  “Hope, look.” Andy initialed the pages swiftly.

  Ruben nodded. “This is the truth. He’s telling the truth.”

  “But—” Andy signed the last page. “In exchange, you have a partner who’s an asshole.”

  She choke-laughed. “No shit.”

  “Not me.” He looked at Ruben. “Effective immediately, I’m retiring so we all don’t go to prison. My boyfriend over there thought that seemed like the wise move.”

  Ruben raised his hand. “That would be me.”

  “Good.” Hope shook her head. “But I’m not comfortable with this retirement.”

  Andy bent over the table to write a check. “I’ve made some rash decisions that compromised clients, and we’re going to make good on those accounts. My stepfather will be your partner on paper. He has no say on the business. He will collect profit, but you have control.”

  Her eyebrows creased.

  “Not like that.” He offered her the pen. “He’s a thief, but a stupid one. He’ll have no authority.”

  She shook her head. “What if he’s an asshole?”

  “No ‘if’.” Ruben glowered. “He is, but you’ll eat him alive. Second he steps outta line, you call the feds.”

  Andy nodded. “Nothing’s free. You’ll have working capital and your own offices. Hell, you can hire an assistant. From now on, this is just my home. Ours.” He glanced at Ruben.

  “Hope? You don’t have to agree,” Ruben said.

  “I’m trying to stop.” Andy’s tone begged. “This is out of control and it’s not fair to anyone.”

  Ruben sat down. “We’re trying to unmake the mess is all. He’s trying to make amends, get clean.” His eyes held hers. Andy didn’t know she was sober, and he wouldn’t betray her trust. “This transfer is only a step. He’d become powerless over all this.” That word came straight out of the Big Book, Step One.

  She looked up. Message received.

  “Powerless and stupid.” Andy continued the thought. “Business. My family. I don’t want to keep making the same mistakes.”

  She nodded. “I get that.” Another nod. “Amends. But why give all this to me?”

  “Because you earned it.” Andy offered the pen. “Because I’m out of control. Because Oso asked.”

  “Oso’s right.” She smiled for the first time since they’d walked in. “What if I’m not ready to run a fund?”

  Ruben snorted and made a face. “You already were.”

  “What if I fuck up?”

  “Fix it.” Andy grinned.

  She shook her head at the table and the papers. “Andy, you scared the hell out of us.”

  He nodded.

  Her phone made a chirping sound, but she didn’t answer it. “I gotta go. My fiancé’s parents already think I’m nuts.”

  “We gotta deal?”

  “Bauer. Give it a rest with the pen.” She exhaled. “You know I’m not signing that craziness here.” Her eyes scanned the document for a moment. “I’m having it checked by every lawyer I know. And a priest, maybe.”

  Ruben laughed. Andy looked sad.


  Hope patted his arm. “How the hell are you going to survive without someone keeping an eye on you?”

  Ruben chuckled. “Covered.”

  She stood up. “If you’re not my boss now, what are you?”

  Andy paused. “Your friend.”

  “I can live with that.” She looked up and shook his hand. “Deal.” And then she picked up her Chloe bag and was gone.

  Ruben turned to look at Andy a moment before he spoke. “Tibbitt. What if he hassles her?” Hope, he meant.

  “He can’t.” Andy walked slowly toward the living room.

  “No more financial hitman bullshit.”

  “No. No. This is more ninja.”

  “Andy.” Was he serious? “The last thing we need.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Andy agreed. “Not a hit job. Promise.”

  Ruben rolled his eyes, like his brother actually. “What, then?”

  “Banking booby traps. And a landmine.”

  “Bauer….” Ruben glared.

  “I swear. Long as my stepfucker watches his step and leaves us alone, then they’ll be fine.”

  “And if he gets pushy.”

  “I left Hope an SEC nuke and a big red button to press. But the only way he’ll run any risk is if he breaks laws to come after us.”

  “No more stupid bullshit. I’m watching you.” Ruben grinned, but he meant it.

  “Totally legal.” Andy tapped the door. “I exposed a vulnerability. That doesn’t mean I exploited it. I found a security risk.”

  “Which your stepfather’ll take advantage of.”

  “Not if he’s smart. It’s flagged all the hell over.” His square face lit up.

  Ruben had been waiting to see that grin for so long that he actually sighed with relief. “And?”

  “And the feds would come knocking in about fifteen minutes if he got stupid enough to breach the security.”

  “You booby-trapped Tibbitt.”

  Andy shrugged and stretched. “Well, it only works if he’s a complete boob.”

  “Which he is. I rest my case.”

  “You come rest your case over here.”

  “I may be too beat up to fool around just now.” Ruben gestured at himself. “Okay if I take a shower?”