Taking Control

by Jen Frederick

  “You don’t know my circumstances,” Malcolm protests.

  He’s pathetic. I advance on him. “I’d have abandoned my own mother if I had to choose between her and Tiny. But you know what? Tiny would never have made you choose. She would have helped you find a solution that worked for both of you. But you’re either too stupid or selfish to realize that.”

  Malcolm scowls at me. “Here’s what we both know: you’ll get tired of her. And then where will she be?”

  “Don’t pretend like you know me, Hedder. I’m a choir boy compared to you.” I look at my watch. “I’ve got other unhappy children to deal with today. Are we done here?”

  “You’re placing her in danger,” he blurts out as I brush by him. This stops me, as he knew it would.

  “From you or your father?”

  “Your life is dangerous,” he shoots back with narrowed eyes.

  “Really? Because I’m not the one engaged in criminal activity. I believe it was the job you asked Tiny to do that got her beat up by a drugged out, paranoid customer.”

  He has the grace to flush but persists. “She’s an ordinary girl and won’t have the first clue how to deal with your business dinners. How are you going to feel when she unintentionally insults someone or can’t keep up with current events because she doesn’t even fucking read? You’ll ruin her.”

  “This is why you lost her, Hedder. You’ve never valued her highly enough. You cared more for your own problems than you cared about her. I don’t care what anyone else thinks of Tiny because she’s a goddamn revelation and anyone who doesn’t recognize that can go fuck themselves. Have a good day,” I say pleasantly and walk through the revolving doors.

  FOUR

  AS PREDICTED, LOUIS DURAND IS standing at my office door when I arrive. After dealing with Malcolm, my patience is in short supply. From the look of annoyance on my admin Rose’s face, he’s been there long enough to keep her from getting her own job done.

  “Ian,” Louis cries in greeting. He’s trying to hide his impatience, but the rhythmic tapping of the prospectus in his hand gives his true feelings away.

  “Good morning, Rose. Louis.” I take the printout from Rose containing the meetings and phone conferences set for today along with any important messages. I flip through each of pages quickly. “Tell the Times and Wall Street Journal no and schedule a meeting for Friday with Keller. It can be a lunch meeting. Make it for Megu at the UN Plaza. He likes that place. Also, have we arranged everything with the Frick?”

  She nods. “The tickets will be delivered to your home this week. The first gift amount has been sent, and there’s a draft of the commemorative announcement in your inbox. I’ve marked it as important.”

  “Good.”

  “You haven’t read your emails yet?” Louis yelps in dismay. “I’ve sent four this morning and seven last night. All of them are urgent!”

  “All of your messages can’t be urgent.” I don’t feel guilty about not looking at my inbox after leaving work early yesterday. Jake had called at five to tell me he was sending Tiny home, and I wanted to be there when she arrived. Reading Louis’s emails was the furthest thing from my mind last night, and I told him so. “I had better things to do last night than read business emails. And, frankly, so should you. All work, Louis.”

  He scoffs. “That’s not the maxim you lived by three months ago. Ever since—” He stops, perhaps recognizing that I’ll not tolerate any negativity about Tiny. “Look, since you’re finally here, we can get started.”

  I’m halfway into my office when Louis finishes his sentence.

  “I didn’t realize I was on the clock,” I said mildly. “Or that I answered to you.”

  He stammers out a response. “Of course not. I meant I was just eager to go over the reports with you. These deals aren’t going to be around for long.”

  Quickly, I calculate the pros and cons of firing him on the spot for clear insubordination. I hired him because he was bright and hungry. His great weakness is his tendency to make emotion-based decisions. Investments should be done without sentiment. I’ve been trying to train that out of him. He needs to lead with his head more and not his hurt feelings.

  Two years ago, he’d wanted to scuttle a deal with a small transport company. The owners were a few guys from the Midwest who liked to order their steaks well done. They were rough around the edges, and Louis had been affronted by nearly everything—from how they held their forks to the condition of the home office, which was really nothing more than a shed. He’d claimed that it was a sign of the immaturity of the company, but I’d invested over his objections. Since then it’s been over-performing the paper estimates. They were more interested in pouring money back into the fleet and their employees than making sure the home office looked good. I approved. Louis did not.

  That might have been the start of the growing rift between us, but the last three months spent with Tiny have driven a sharp wedge into the fissure.

  Last year was the best year Kerr Inc. had seen in the decade of its existence. Before Tiny, my sole focus had been ensuring my place at the top of the heap of snarling animals that comprises the financial world.

  I just didn’t realize how lonely it was up there until she came along. Once you reach a certain level, it’s not about how many things you can buy—how many properties, cars, priceless works of art—it’s how far and hard can you push yourself. But Louis isn’t there yet, either financially or mentally. I suspect he might be looking at shortcuts to the top, which means I’ll have to let him go regardless.

  His discomfort is evident, but I make no effort to dispel it. He should know that I’m unhappy with him.

  “Let’s get to work then.”

  He enters the office quickly, and we get down to business. I take two meetings in the morning and review a report my team of investment analysts have done on a tech firm in Seattle working on wearable technology. Another company is making advancements in light refracting clothes that can render one invisible to the naked eye. Unless I get prototypes, I’m not investing millions in either company.

  “I think the military tech firm is more interesting only because it has more upside. Government contracts are great for overpaying,” Louis says as we sit in my office sifting through the morning presentations.

  “So our entire investment strategy hinges on how good the company is at fleecing the U.S. government out of its money?”

  He shrugs. “Someone’s going to benefit from that stupidity. Why not us?”

  “Why not indeed?” I say dryly. “Both these companies can be outpaced tomorrow. There’s a competing invisible technology being developed as we speak, and we don’t have enough information to make an educated guess as to which is going to win out. I’m not willing to back either until I’ve got a good sense about which will be VHS and which will be Betamax.”

  “What about the wearable tech?” Louis urges. He’s eager to make some sort of deal today, as if he can’t wait to spend Kerr Inc. money regardless of whether the deal makes sense. I test out an idea that I’ve been debating for the last month. Sophie Corielli’s death has affected me strongly, but in a different way than it affected her daughter.

  I no longer want to spend every day shut up in my office. I’ve done little traveling except for work. I’ve done little entertaining except for work. I’ve reached the pinnacle of the financial world at the relatively young age of thirty-two because all I’ve done since the age of thirteen is work. I’d wake up thinking about ways to make money and execute those ideas until I was too tired to stand. Then I’d dream about more ways to make money.

  But now my dreams are full of Tiny and the life we could have together. I’ve made enough money. Now it’s time to enjoy it.

  “I’m thinking of winding down Kerr Inc.”

  “Winding it down?” Louis shoots out of his chair and leans his hands on my desk, a giant thing made of my favorite wood, walnut. Thankfully, there’s enough space between the two of us that I avoid being d
renched by his saliva-filled horror. “You can’t wind this down. You love it. It’s your life!”

  I toss the prospectus for the military firm on the desk and wander over to the windows. From the thirty-fourth floor, I can see Staten Island and the ferries. I wonder if Tiny has ever visited the Statue of Liberty. I haven’t. I can count on one hand the number of New York City monuments I’ve visited.

  The Empire State Building—but only because a woman I was dating wanted to have sex up there. What was her name again? Bettina? I remember the initial thrill of the possibility of being caught, but Bettina kept pushing the envelope. A dark corner on the top of the observation deck after I’d slipped the security guard a Benjamin was fine for me. I hadn’t balked at screwing her on a Sunday morning at the Standard overlooking the Highline. But when I figured out she enjoyed exhibitionism far more than she enjoyed my cock, I sent her a nice tennis bracelet from Tiffany’s and told her that there was someone out there better than me.

  Funny how the thrill of those illicit activities weren’t even a tenth as exciting as just thinking about fucking Tiny.

  “Was my life,” I corrected him, not bothering to look back. “It’s just money. You and I both have enough to enjoy every little luxury even if we never work again.”

  “Maybe you do, but I don’t,” Louis retorts.

  This confession draws me away from the view of the harbor. He’s red-faced and not a little anxious. He fiddles with his tie and doesn’t look me in the eye.

  “What is it?” I ask. “Women? Drugs? Gambling?”

  “None of them. I just haven’t been at this as long as you have,” he mumbles.

  “Maybe I’d believe that if you’d look at me when you said that instead of talking to your tie tack.”

  “Sorry if my ambition is making you upset,” he snarls. From chagrin to attack in less than a minute, Louis is leaking defensiveness all over the floor.

  Disappointment sets in. The lure of more was going to take another man down. Although on that subject, I’m the last who should talk. I’ve been making money hand over fist because I’m good at it. It used to fill my days and my nights with something akin to gratification, but now I realize it was a false sense of happiness. Things are nothing compared to a person. Louis’s downfall is as much my fault as his own. I’d hired him and because I’d failed to be a good mentor, I was going to lose him. I decide to change the subject as much for Louis’s sake as for mine.

  “How about investing in a cycling company? Green measures are expanding and cycling is becoming more popular. Why don’t you check it out?”

  Louis doesn’t respond immediately. A raised eyebrow finally jerks him to attention. “I’ll get right on that.”

  “Good. I’ll expect a report in the morning.” Without waiting for a response, I pick up my landline to begin the eradication of the one black mark in my life. Tiny is right. I’ve allowed this to linger far too long. A little pressure on his wallet and he’d leave his family just to save his own skin.

  “Howe speaking.”

  “Richard. It’s Ian Kerr. How are you?”

  “Good. I’m surprised you’re calling. Surprised but pleased. What can I do for you?” His uneasiness is evident.

  “I could bullshit you all day, Howe, but you should know that you are a—” How had Tiny put it? Oh yes. “A boil on the ass of humanity.”

  He starts to sputter. “Just because you have had a modicum of success does not mean you can speak to me—”

  I cut him off. “Of course I can. Your family barely has two dimes to rub together. You probably don’t look at your bills or your mail. No doubt you’ve hired someone you can’t afford to do that for you. But if you had, you’d notice that all of your bills are sent from one company. IKK Asset Management.”

  I hear only his heavy breathing on the phone. This is fun. I should have done this years ago. “IKK stands for Ian Kincaid Kerr,” I explain.

  “B-b-but why?” he stutters.

  My good humor is wiped away. “You know why. I’m going to give you an opportunity to do the decent thing. Divorce your wife, renounce your family. Leave the city. I don’t care where you live but do it quietly because if I hear even one whisper of your name, I’ll end you. Start making arrangements. The longer it takes you to leave town, the more debt I will call in.”

  “Surely whatever harm you think I’ve done to you can be ameliorated in some fashion. Ian, old boy, we should meet. In person,” he yelps.

  “I can barely stomach talking to you on the phone.”

  I hang up. Why I didn’t threaten Howe earlier I don’t even know. Some misguided idea of chivalry; not wanting to do to Cecilia Howe what Richard did to my mother. Foolish reasons in retrospect.

  The conversation should have left me elated but instead my stomach is churning. I need to see Tiny, but I don’t know if I should confess after she’d admired my restraint this morning. I run a hand down my face. I’ve rarely been uncertain before, because I’ve lived life without fear.

  Now I have her, and I’m fucking terrified I’ll lose her and then I’ll be empty again.

  She picks up on the fourth ring sounding harried.

  “Ian, hi, can you hold for a minute?”

  “Sure.” No. I want to see you immediately. I need to hold you.

  After a moment she returns. “Sorry, God. I don’t think I’m made for dispatching. If you’re calling for an afternoon break, I can’t. I feel overwhelmed, and I don’t want to leave the desk. And I’m afraid if I do wander out of the office, I’ll never return. Also you need to eat lunch at a normal time like a normal person instead of at three in the afternoon.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “How can you stand to work inside all the time?”

  “You get used to it.” I push aside the disappointment. I will see her tonight. It’s soon enough.

  “Blergh. I don’t want to get used to it. I miss biking.” Her voice sounds plaintive and harried.

  I don’t bring up the topic of not working at all because I don’t want to get into another argument, but the biking issue is one I can address. “I was thinking I should invest in a cycling company. What was the name of that bike you liked in the SoHo store?”

  “You can do that? You can just decide, hey, I want to buy a company because my girlfriend likes what they make?”

  “Yes, I can do that.” My lips curve into a smile. She’s probably shaking her head right now.

  “That’s weird. Very weird. I’ve got to go. Don’t buy any companies that I like.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because! You can’t go spending money like that just because I think they make cool stuff.”

  “That’s exactly how people should invest, Tiny. You buy things that people around you like because that means that those companies are developing not only brand loyalty but producing a product that meets market desires. It’s an important part of market research.”

  “Really? Well, I guess that’s why you’re making millions a day and I’m a bike courier.”

  “You’re not a courier anymore.”

  Silence.

  “Thanks for the reminder. Look, I’ve got to go.”

  With that, she disconnects.

  Fuck. I screwed that up.

  “By the glower on your face, I’m guessing you’re having lunch with me today,” Louis says with forced cheer. I can see he wants to put aside the morning’s uncomfortableness.

  “Your powers of observation are legendary.” I sigh but willingly go along. There’s no need to fight with Louis. I’ve come to a decision about him.

  “It’s part of why you pay me so much. Come on, old man, I’ll buy you lunch and you can explain why you’re wearing that loud monstrosity of a suit.” Louis stands at the office door and pushes it open.

  Heaving to my feet, I finger the lapel. “Tiny picked it out.”

  He rolls his eyes. “She is overtaking your life.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” My phone dings and I see it’s
a text from Tiny. It’s a small series of pictures. Tiny is dyslexic, so when she texts it’s usually emojis. I refuse to feel weird about that, given it’s the best way for us to communicate. The image of a bicycle, water, and sun next to a sandwich appear to be telling me that she wants to go the beach this weekend and bike around and then eat. I’ll look forward to it. Clicking on the emoji icon for my phone, I search for one that says yes. I settle for the thumbs up.

  “You’re worse than a preteen,” Louis says impatiently.

  “Louis, if I wanted your opinion I’d ask for it.” Sticking my phone into my breast pocket, I exit the office. Louis is on my heels. Pausing at Rose’s desk, I say, “We’re off to lunch, but we’ll be back for the SunCorp presentation.”

  We cab it to Morimoto’s for lunch since I’ve sent Steve to sit outside Jake Tanner’s office and make sure no one harms Tiny. I wonder if she’s figured out that he’s been reassigned to bodyguard duties. I’m guessing no because she hasn’t said anything about him to me and she’s not the type to accept being followed without some discussion.

  When she’s not so raw from her mother’s death and she’s more settled in what she wants to do with her future, we can talk about the safety measures I’d like her to take. For now, I want to keep the lifestyle changes from scaring her off, but if she’s going to be with me she’s going to have to accept that power and a lot of money attracts a lot of desperate people.

  Steve’s a bit disturbed because he doesn’t like the subterfuge, but he’s keeping quiet for now because discretion is part of what I pay him for.

  After ordering, my mind wanders to Tiny again. Steve should deliver her some lunch. Feeding that woman is my new obsession. Along with fucking her, of course. I text Jake.

  Are you feeding my woman?

  If I say yes, will you view it as an act of aggression and threaten to kill me?

  Not today. I’m more concerned that she’s eating. She wouldn’t leave her desk.

  I’m pretty sure she hates this job even though she’s doing fine.

  Is it her dyslexia?

  No it’s that she has a desk. I have men like that. Hate desks. Can’t work behind them.