by Nella Tyler
I didn't want to see anyone get arrested. Not Luke and certainly not my father. If they were both involved in insider trading, I knew I would be sadly disappointed, as I was, but at the same time, did I want to see them behind bars? Spending time in jail? Wearing orange suits, with their reputations damaged, and fined potentially millions of dollars? Did I want to see my father's reputation and history in Raleigh dragged through the mud, fodder for the gossip mill? And what would such gossip do to my mother?
So what do I do? Keep my mouth shut? If anything, it was thoughts of my mother that gave me pause. My parents weren't young anymore. Something like this and the scandal surrounding it would not only ruin my dad, but my mother, too. Did I have any right to do that? Did I have an obligation to report him, or Luke? Or did I have an obligation to my parents first? I couldn't very well report Luke without him turning the tables on my dad. But would he?
What exactly did I want? I thought about it as I drove home. I wanted them both to stop doing what they were doing. I wanted them to do things the right way, the legal way. Sure, they might lose a lot of money in the process, but at least they could look themselves in the mirror and not feel guilty, if they did at all. Better yet, I would be able to look at them and not question their trustworthiness, or anything that came out of their mouth.
I groaned. I was going around and around and around. I knew one thing for certain – I didn't want anyone to get arrested. At the same time, I didn't want to associate with either one of them if they were going to deal in illegal activities.
Chapter 5
By the time I got back home, I definitely needed a third ear. I called Samantha, who I was lucky enough to once again catch on her day off.
"What’s going on now?" she asked as she answered the phone
"What makes you think something's wrong?" I asked her.
"Molly, we've been friends for years. You don't think I can tell when something's wrong? Besides, I haven't heard from you in a few days. Seems like the only time you call me lately is when there's trouble brewing, there’s an excess of drama, or you need my advice about something."
"You know me too well," I sighed. "And yes, I do need to talk to you. Are you available today?"
"Not until about four o'clock this afternoon," she said. "I'm taking my mother on some errands. Wanna come with?"
I shook my head even though she couldn't see it. "No, this needs to be a private conversation."
I figured as much," Samantha said. "Okay, how about I come and pick you up at about four or four-thirty? Then we'll go get a bite to eat and you can pour your heart out."
I shook my head again. "What makes you think I need to pour my heart out?"
Samantha laughed. "Why else would you be calling me, girlfriend?"
We concluded the call. I spent the rest of the morning moping around my apartment. I wasn't feeling hungry, so I skipped lunch and instead lay down on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I hadn't slept much the past couple of nights, and I just lay there, trying to settle my thoughts. Before long, I slipped into a doze.
By the time I was jolted awake by the sound of some kids playing in the common area between my condo and that of the people next door, I realized that it was already three o'clock. I really must've needed the rest; otherwise I wouldn't have slept so long. I quickly jumped into the shower, my thoughts once again consumed with Luke and my dad…my dad and Luke. Around and around, back and forth, no resolution, no decisions, no idea what to do. Maybe Samantha would be able to help me sort it all out.
Samantha rang my doorbell at four o'clock on the dot. One thing I could always say about Samantha was that she was punctual. To a fault sometimes. We were both dressed casually, she and capris and I in a pair of jeans, both of us in T-shirts and sandals.
"Where to, girlfriend?"
"Somewhere where we can talk and not have to worry about privacy," I said.
"Okay, how about the café over on the other side of town? You know, the one with the fountain out front?"
I nodded. I couldn’t remember the name of the place, but I knew which one she was talking about. They had an open patio with tables outside, with umbrellas even. "That sounds good."
We just talked about non-important stuff as Samantha drove to the freeway and we made our way across town. She caught me up on everything going on in her life, but didn't question me about mine until we had sat down at one of the umbrella tables, far away from anybody else, and placed our orders. I wasn't really hungry, but Samantha was. She ordered a Po’boy, French fries, and coleslaw. I ordered an antipasto salad. Still, we didn't get into depth about anything until after our sodas and meals had been served.
Samantha took one big bite of her Po’boy, chewed for several moments, and then, watching me pick at my salad, uttered one word. “Spill.”
So, I did. I told her everything, from the beginning. I didn't leave anything out. At one point, she nearly choked on her sandwich when the words insider trading were whispered, but other than that, she didn't respond with any emotion until I had finished my story.
She said nothing for several moments, finishing the last few bites of her coleslaw. I continued to picket my salad, having yet to take a bite. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. "So what you think?"
"I think the whole situation really stinks," she said.
"Agreed," I said. "But what should I do?"
She leaned back in her chair, drank a swig of her soda, and then looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "What do you think you should do?"
I shook my head in frustration. “Samantha, why do you think I needed to talk to you? I have no idea. Help me out here, will you?"
She said nothing for several moments. "You're going to be damned if you do and damned if you don't, you know that, don't you?"
I nodded, wishing that Samantha would give me some of her valuable advice. Usually, she was full of ideas. Finally, she spoke, but the words she said were not those I necessarily wanted to hear.
"Molly, honey, this is a tricky situation. The only advice I can offer is that you need to do what you feel is right for you."
I sank back in my chair, staring at her with wide eyes. "And how am I supposed to figure that out? I'm so confused right now I don't know which way is up!"
"I can imagine," Samantha said in commiseration. "But this is not a decision that anyone else can make for you. It not only involves your boyfriend, but your father. You, more than anyone else, know how something like this can affect not only the present, but the future." She pondered. "You haven't brought up your mom."
"What about her? She's not involved in this."
"Actually, she is," Samantha said.
I frowned and stared at my friend. "What do you mean?"
"You and I both know that your mom's not in the best of health. Something like this, the scandal, could send her right back into the hospital. She's already had one heart attack-"
"I know, I know," I said, nodding. "I get it." I sighed, looking off into the distance, at the cars going by beyond the hedge of shrubbery on the other side of the patio. "How in the hell did I get involved in such a mess?"
"You really want my opinion?" Samantha asked.
I just looked at her, made a face, and then nodded.
"You got involved in this mess, bottom line, because you got your head turned around a pretty face."
Thanks a lot, Samantha," I said. "Now do you have any good advice for me?"
"How do you feel about Luke?"
"How do I-" I sighed. "I think I've fallen in love with him," I admitted.
"And I would suppose that you still you love your dad too, right? No matter whether he's telling the truth or not, whether he's involved or not?"
"Of course!"
"You know, Molly, I've never been a huge fan of your dad’s micromanaging. I always got the impression that he didn't really approve of me."
I didn't argue, because I had noticed it, too. Even though Samantha and I had been friends for years, my father
always tended to close himself off when she was around. My mother on the other hand, loved Samantha and made no bones about it.
"However, I guess it all boils down to whom you believe more. If you believe Luke is being honest with you, then your father isn’t. Then again, if your father is being honest with you, then Luke isn’t."
I sighed with exasperation. "What do you think has me so confused? Samantha, who do I believe?"
Samantha sighed. “If I had to go with my instincts, I would tend to side with Luke."
"Why?" I asked.
"He's got less to lose than your dad," she shrugged. "After all, he hasn't known you that long. If you leave him, he’d get over it-"
"Am I that forgettable?" I interrupted, somewhat annoyed.
"I didn't mean it like that and you know it," she said. "What I'm saying is, to be blunt, he hasn't got as much invested in you, personally, emotionally, financially, or mentally, as your father does. So, he's got less to lose." She was quiet for several moments and then continued. "Not to mention that Luke is relatively new in Raleigh. If he had to, he could up and disappear, move to a different part of the country, and no one would know who he was. With your dad, it's different. Everyone knows your dad in investment circles. He's been in the business for decades."
That was true, and I acknowledged the veracity of her comment.
"On the other hand, your father has a lot to lose. His reputation, millions of dollars in fines, not to mention, most likely, every business relationship or contract that he currently is engaged in would drop him like the proverbial hot potato." She shook her head. "That doesn't even take into consideration what the knowledge might do to your mother. He's been protecting her all these years, keeping her away from his business. Why do you think that is? Why do you think he has never involved you in his business? Taken you under his wing?"
For the first time, I really thought about it. She was right. My dad had never made any specific efforts to teach me about his work, and what I had learned was mostly through osmosis – watching, listening, and yes, sometimes even eavesdropping. The fact that I wasn’t interested in such complex business dealings wasn’t the point.
Still, my father had always done his work behind closed doors. Always. Anytime he took a phone call, it was in the privacy of his office. If someone called during family time or during the evenings he spent with the family, he either told them he'd call back or he excused himself and left the room. It was all beginning to make a lot of sense. Or was it?
"You really think my father is the one who's lying?" I had trouble wrapping my mind around it. My father could have behaved in such a manner because he wanted to keep his business life separated from his private and family life. There was nothing wrong – or suspicious – about that, was there?
"I do. And, of course, it's obvious that your father doesn't want to implicate himself. Who would? Then again, if he had nothing to hide, why didn’t he come to you with his knowledge of Luke's family or his suspicions of Luke?"
I sank deeper into my chair, a great surge of disappointment welling up in me. I felt tears burning my eyes. I looked at my friend, who placed a commiserating hand on mine. "Samantha, what the hell am I going to do?"
She gave me a smile, squeezed my hand, and then spoke. "I can't tell you what to do, Molly. This is going to be your decision. I want you to know, though, that no matter what you decide, I’ll stand by you. As far as I'm concerned, this conversation is confidential. It will never pass my lips. I want you to know that."
I appreciated my friend’s honesty. While I wished more than anything that she would make a decision for me, tell me what to do, I knew that she was right. This was something I had to figure out on my own.
“And who’s to say that both of them are lying? Maybe there’s a little truth, a little untruth, to what each of them had to say,” Samantha commented, gesturing toward the antipasto salad. “You going to eat that?” She snatched a chunk of pepperoni from the bowl. “You know, Molly, maybe there’s more to this that you know right now. You could just wait to see what happens, you know.”
I shook my head and sighed.
"Come on, let's get the hell out of here, okay?"
I nodded. She didn't take me home directly, but we drove through town, stopped at one of the shopping malls, and just walked around, not saying anything. Just hanging out. We didn't buy anything. I didn't feel like it, and she didn't, either. I knew we weren’t there to do shopping, but more to serve as a distraction for me. By the time she dropped me back at my condo, it was going on ten o'clock at night.
I felt exhausted, mentally, emotionally, and physically. Before I got out of the car, Samantha leaned toward me and gave me a hug.
"You know you can call me anytime, right? I don't care if it's three o'clock in the morning. If you need to talk, you call me, okay?"
I nodded. "You're the bestest friend I've ever had," I said, harking back toward our days in high school. She laughed, but I couldn't bring a smile to my lips. "I'll let you know when I figure out what the hell I'm going to do."
She nodded. "Try to get some rest, Molly, and don't feel as if you have to make a decision right away. Think about it. The pros and the cons. Don't do anything rash. I would suggest you don't discuss anything with your father, at least for the time being. Give them both a chance to do the right thing, whatever the right thing is."
While I didn't get the advice that I was hoping for after spending my evening with Samantha, I did feel a little better knowing that I didn't have to carry this burden alone. Sure, Luke and my dad knew about it, but they were on opposite sides of the fence, so to speak. I was the one caught in the middle. I was the one that had information that could destroy both of them, and my mother, our lives, and myself right along with them.
By the time I left the car and opened my door, Samantha was driving away. I walked into my dark and quiet apartment, then closed and dead-bolted the door behind me. My legs felt like spaghetti. I knew I should've eaten something, but just the thought of food turned my stomach.
I had never been so confused or conflicted in my life. For crying out loud, all I ever wanted was to be a teacher! How had my life been turned upside down so quickly, and without warning? I questioned everything I knew to be right with the world, even my own ethics. I was in an impossible situation and I had no idea how I was going to extricate myself or how I was going to deal with Luke or my father. All I knew was-
A knock on the door startled me. I turned and looked through the peephole, surprised to find Luke standing on my doorstep. I didn't say anything, but slowly turned the deadbolt and then opened the door. I looked at Luke. He stared back at me.
"Can I come in, Molly?"
At first, I wanted to slam the door in his face, to tell him to get the hell off my doorstep, but then my affection for him overruled my frustration. Without saying anything, I stepped back and opened the door. He stepped inside and I closed the door and turned to face him.
"What you doing here, Luke?"
He didn't say anything. What he did was wrap his arms around me and press his lips to mine.
Chapter 6
I couldn't help it. The minute his lips touched mine, it was as if everything disappeared – the accusations, the shock, and the disappointment. All of it. Once again, I was swept up into the man I knew Luke to be before all of the money stuff had thrown a monkey wrench into our relationship. Misguided though he was, I held out hope that he would do the right thing.
The kiss lasted for quite some time and I allowed it to, mainly because I needed it. Not sexually, of course, but emotionally and mentally. A lot of people probably would say that my feelings were wrong, but sometimes, the heart ruled over the brain, didn't it? The plain truth of the matter was I wasn't quite sure yet whether my feelings for Luke were infatuation or something more serious. While I tried to guard my heart against pain and heartbreak, this constant pull he had over me left me wondering.
When his lips left mine, I felt almost ber
eft, as if I was missing something so important in my life. He placed his hands on my shoulders as I gazed up into his face. His eyes searched mine. He had an odd expression on his face and for a moment, my heart sank. Was this goodbye? Had he chosen money over me? Had he decided that he had gotten too used to being so rich that it was the most important thing in his life? I blinked back tears. Better now than dragging me along indefinitely. I knew I was strong enough to deal with it if he told me he was breaking it off between us. I would be upset, of course, but I knew I wouldn't die. I would hurt for a while, and then I would move forward. Live and learn.
"Molly, I have something to tell you," he said.
"You've made up your mind. You've made a decision." I nodded. "Luke, I want you to know, that no matter what your decision, I will respect it. Perhaps-"
"Molly, I want you."
Confusion. What was he saying? I already knew that. I wanted him to, but he had to make a choice. He had to do the right thing or I would have to turn and walk away.
"You're not understanding what I’m saying," he said with a gentle smile. "As usual, I have trouble expressing myself properly when I'm around you, don't I"
I said nothing, not sure what I was supposed to say.
"Let me rephrase, Molly," he said. He gently squeezed my shoulders. "What I'm trying to say is that I'll give it up, everything – the stock market, trading, all of it. I want you, more than anything in the world, even money."
I stood in shock, his words having trouble penetrating my brain. I was so sure that he was going to call it quits with me.
"I'm sorry for what happened earlier. I can't even believe I would have considered money over you. It's just that everything happened so fast."
He shook his head, his arms dropping from my shoulders as I continued to stare up at him in amazement. He had chosen me? Me?
