May Be the Case

by Rachel J. queen

  Thorne perfectly understood that once the scepter would had passed to Lance, there would have been little left of the old Atom C. On his part, Jack, who had illustrated the points at the summit, couldn't stand still as in front of an obstinate child, and had therefore fought to the end to convince Mark that they didn't intend to damage the company's policy and indeed wanted to relaunch Atom in the market with new programs and without the risks that had led to its decline. At the end of the meeting, Thorne was satisfied, but his grandson followed him with a relation under his arm, beginning an informal squabble with bitter resentful tones. Jack hated Mark Atom, a young man, in his opinion, still inexperienced for the table of big ones. "He wants to be the tough one" he muttered, glancing sideways. Only Glenn and Logan were left. "He doesn't take care of his company, we are usurpers for him, we're attacking his virtue. He was in fear when we talked about comparisons of remunerations with the industry average."

  "Indeed. You want to take off the armchair from beneath his ass" Glenn interrupted him and put his papers in order. "I consider his a legitimate request, and we should welcome it."

  Logan was sitting. For ten minutes he tapped a pen on a leather agenda, meditating. There was Jack's lunch meal suggestion, Glenn's behavior during the meeting: something was wrong. He felt Jack's indignation, who turned to Glenn, caustic. "A legitimate request? An extension of bargaining for another three months?"

  "Why not" Glenn said. "They're already hanging on a thread and I've only discussed it, in three months they certainly won't repair their losses."

  "Repair the losses... god damn it, Glenn, if you weren't sit at our table, I'd say you were part of the opposite faction. I'm not surprised that they're asking for a three months delay, but I don't understand how this can benefit them. Or are there any salient points of that speech that me and the president are missing?" Jack stood still, waiting. Glenn's trim face lost color.

  "Obviously not, but maybe we should all see things under another point of view..."

  "Why?" Jack threw an eye on the clock, as he was in a hurry, and broke the discussion. "First you should illustrate the benefits our company would meet accepting Mark Atom's request. If you want to support your dissent, do it well, but I advise you to take a larger suitcase, the one you're always bringing won't suffice for another ninety days of useless paperwork. As far as I'm concerned, I do not intend to open the champagne package at New Year's Eve" he greeted them, darkened, and left. Glenn's expression became intolerant. He looked at the closed doors and seemed to turn to himself:

  "Hostility's not good for him, Jack is frustrated and takes it out with clients. If he had given some room to human relations, he would still have a family at this time, it was only his fault if Marron left."

  Logan threw the pen on the table, drawing his attention.

  "Jack busted his bump to prove himself as our best adviser, don't you forget it"

  "Oh, please, don't praise him, please!" Glenn got a cold look from him, challenging him to continue.

  "For your information, Marron has left because Jack has given everything for work and he can't split up. Months have passed since the first summit. Jack's tired" he held a significant break. "And I also am."

  The suffocated rumble of the Ferrari went down the street, breaking the silence. Concentrated in the guide, Logan moved the steering wheel slowly. The cell phone vibrated in the passenger seat, Katrin's name blinked. He waited til it stopped, then switched it off throwing it back on the seat. The headache showed no quarter from the morning. On the temples, his enlarged veins were hurt, while a neuralgia located behind his neck went down to his shoulder blades. The car drifted into a rolling hill artery. Continuing on the serpentine for about half a kilometer, the stretch settled only on the final avenue, ending in a vast garden upland, secluded by oak trees that obstructed the view of the estate at various points. A plane trees pentagon delimited the perimeter of a building on various levels, which in the past belonged to members of the English nobility. The gardens matched various elements, including a small temple and a pretty stream, visible from the entrance staircase. There was a side patio leading to the second entrance, where space was surrounded by green spots and varieties of beautiful flowers. Returning home, Logan often watched the rooms on the loggia from the patio. From time to time, he poured a coin into the small fountain in the center of the square, and at night bent over in the veranda to smoke and hear that constant gurgling. The windows of the villa were wide open to encourage air exchange. Although it was August, it was a fresh day, almost september like. It hadn't rained.

  The first estate of the Lance was in the center, but since it found the approval of the Wood spouses, associated with long stays, sometimes full seasons, the busy oceanic crossings, it had been preferred to the main one. Logan understood that being elderly, it was a more consonant arrangement for their tranquility needs. It was also an aspect that he liked to live with them for most of the year. Previously the house was only opened for some periods, but for some years they had moved permanently. For summer holidays, along with Domina and Shepard, came Logan's brother-in-law, Antonio with Myra, the eldest of the three sisters, and their two daughters, Philippa, of five years, and Theresa, born a few months ago. The younger sister, Lalanny, had come together with her husband for only two weeks, at Domina's request that had known that her bachelor's affairs would have left him in America. Lalanny, student of Fine Arts, had taken advantage of the London stop to attend an a-list painting course run by St. Leroy, an ascending artist who regularly held exhibitions of his masterpieces in Paris and Brussels. Although the strength point of Wood resided in union and mutual understanding, one could often feel subjected to a troubled, unstable, at times oppressive climate. The atmosphere wasn't always the best one. The only remedy was given by the liveliness of Billy and Lalanny, everyone liked them for the character of the girl and at the same time condemned it. There were, at first instance, contraversions outside her person: after the marriage, Paris continued to behave as if she didn't have a husband, she was continually away, enjoying pleasure trips with her friends, the general disapproval for her happy inclinations had soon become a sad habit. Pedro Kallistos, Lidi's husband, didn't give up on travel any time he had a deal. He especially cared about being on the field, and almost never delegated anyone to carry out the most important operations. He was an esteemed Greek entrepreneur. His construction firm was struggling with a ruthless competition, aiming to defeat Greek opponents who piloted his hometown, Athens, for monopoly. The Wood one was a singular familiar picture even from the point of view of ambitions: Shepard had been a very talented and talked youngster, which had led the press to now use Paris' whims, considered the most fickle of the descendants, photographed around the world all year round. On the opposite side, well satisfied of their private life, there were Myra and Antonio.

  Myra had never had a job despite a degree in letters, Antonio was a simple second-born employee, family fathers like him and family business managers, and like them, Lidi, married to Pedro with a reluctant parenting acceptance at nineteen, continued to study more for leisure than for need. The figure of William, the last son of Domina, fourteen years old, was seen as neutral, in a home where one could lose himself in politics dissertations, philosophizing often only for the sake of moving daily monotony. Far from complaining, Billy could always count on Lalanny to give a little flame to their home. She was his favorite sister. When Pedro wasn't present, Lalanny returned to be a little girl. She got a large number of scolds when she played with her brother, and did it mainly to raise his morale: William wanted to be a lawyer, the chosen course now obliged him to attend a college rigid as a reformatory. At weekend breaks, Lany's deeds were his only moments of leisure. In fact, Billy was persuaded that it was fun for everyone, but buried this consideration, not in line with social conveniences, not to create controversy.

  Slowly, stepping back into the patio, Logan overthought. He wondered if Billy was right in openly appreciating his sister-inlaw.


  In the evening, John's wide and familiar face was the first one Logan encountered, except when Philippa slipped from the living room to open the door, assisted by Videl, who followed her as a shadow. Today it was John's turn.

  "Good evening, sir."

  "Good evening, John." The butler helped him remove his jacket. Next to her husband, Videl, the housekeeper, announced with some hesitation the news. Videl and John Drew were a Mexican middle-aged couple serving Logan for over a decade. She was low and robust, guiding the kitchen staff and managing the house with care and efficiency, while John, butler and driver, devoted more to the exteriors, managing gardeners and botanists. A plan of the villa was entirely occupied by servants. Videl followed Logan into the atrium, apparently anxious to touch a sore button. "Miss Katrin joined for dinner, sir, I'm sorry I couldn't curb her enthusiasm. She wanted to thank you again for paying the contribution to the charity linked to the exhibition. "

  Logan got the punch in silence. Katrin, again. The phone rang too much. He hadn't responded neither to her calls nor to Glenn's, who together completed the picture of that horrible day. He picked up his cellphone, thinking of advising her. Videl moved from anxiety to mortification. "I'm afraid she's already on the road, sir, she will be here shortly."

  Closing the phone, Logan resigned. Just today that he didn't want to do anything, damn it. He was tired of that woman. If she was determined to visit him that night too, he couldn't show himself as a disrespectful host, but would have welcomed her on his own time. He didn't want to think about anything now.

  "Don't worry, Videl. She must have made it impossible for you to refuse. I need at least half an hour. Serve her something to drink in the other living room, please."

  The corpulent woman agreed "Right away."

  John followed Logan through the corridors, his elongated body always elegant in the uniform. He communicated the news remaining. The usual course of the house. Some trouble among servants. The correspondence waiting for him in the studio. John talked about the problems recently made by one of the kitchen staff, a recently recruited young man.

  "Unfortunately, it seems impossible to reason with him, sir. He has a lively temper, and to be honest I don't believe that..."

  "John, please. I'm too tired tonight. Solve it as you believe best. You'll certainly do well" Logan rolled his shirt to his elbows. "Where's my father-in-law?"

  John added nothing more to it not to irritate him "Upstairs. Mr and Mrs Wood preferred to dine early and retire."

  "Myra and Antonio?"

  "Out with the girls. A dinner invitation. And the lady called to say she would be back in a few days from Barbados."

  "Paris isn't back yet?" a muscle twitched on Logan's jaw, pointing his hard line. So Katrin and I are alone, he deduced.

  "Mrs Kallistos and William took a pizza" they passed before a row of Roman Greek statues, Pedro's gifts of past christmases. John turned a patient look to the principal. "I'm sorry sir."

  "Don't bother. If I survive two courses with that woman in a salon, we'll drink something and play cards."

  "Willingly, sir. Thank you."

  Logan patted on his shoulder "Thank you indeed. Now go."

  Remained alone, shortly thereafter he entered the living room, murmuring a greeting, and the general chat lessened as he received a quiet greeting. He reached an armchair beside the fireplace and settled down exhausted. Billy wore a huge Manchester City shirt, had a popcorn box on his stomach and stretched on the couch. His sister sat in the remaining space, one foot on the edge of the table. Between scattered female junkies and the remains of a giant pizza in a cardboard, she gave herself a bit of flashing pink nail polish.

  Logan slowly unbuttoned his shirt. "Keep talking" he exclaimed. "I also want to know who killed Kennedy."

  Though he was shy and easy to undergo the subjection of his high brother-in-law, Billy smiled and put a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "I was telling her that her nail polish is ugly."

  "I agree" he said. Achy, he massaged his neck. "I thought they used that color only for road signs."

  Lidi used the brush with great care. "For me, you can get stuffed, both of you."

  Billy handed the container to Logan " Do you want some?"

  "No thanks. In a little while I'll dine with a fabulous woman."

  The boy laughed loudly for the lapidary tone. He enjoyed Logan as much as Lidi: he was a fantastic guy, albeit unattainable "So, why do you open your shirt?"

  The man breathed deeply. "Because I prefer to forget that task for at least twenty minutes."

  Billy grabbed another punch of popcorn. "Task?"

  "A sort of obligation" Lidi intervened. She moved to the other foot, pulling away her long wet hair on the other side.

  She was wearing a silky pajamas. Logan untied the shoe laces following her movements. Looking at her hurt him, but how to deny it to himself. She didn't even have makeup and she was gorgeous. Her full lips were turgidly red by nature, long eyelashes on her blue eyes, the features of a doll. That unwittingly sexy pose gave him shivers. "Did you miss the phon?"

  Lany gratified him of a glance, dragging her voice. "I don't dry them in summer."

  Leaning his back against his armchair, he felt his bones cracking "You sleep with wet hair."

  "Or just go to bed when they're dry."

  "An undertaking" he evaluated, given their length. "How much time it takes?"

  "It depends on the variation of currents. If a west wind comes from the window..."

  He smiled grimly. "You're always the same."

  "You started" she said calmly.

  He touched a sore spot between his eyes "It was just a conversation." He found the cigarettes and lit one.

  "Do you want to talk to me?" Lidi asked.

  " With you. Yeah" he replied grimly.

  Lalanny wrinkled his lips in a childish grimace "Today I was at the acting course, my husband doesn't know and would get mad if he did, so when he called me from Detroit, I didn't tell him anything. I ate half a pistachio ice cream box with Billy and before I got a shower. Around three I'll put my head on the pillow."

  "You're an acid one."

  "Look who's talking!" she muttered "I'm just on the average." Lalanny saw him smile and smiled in turn, hinting at the door, crossing his gaze. "Be quiet, Valmont. Billy and I will eclipse ourselves with Monopoly before miss Blonde of the year makes her triumphal entry."

  Billy detested Katrin Danbury. "I left her in the library" he said, referring to the game. "I'll wait for you there. Bye Logan."

  "Bye Will." The kid came out with his popcorn box.

  Frowning his forehead, Logan drew his head from the back of the chair. "How do you know she's blonde?" The brush escaped from Lidi's hand and the cotton between her fingers became dirty. She quietly swore and bit her lip "Everyone is" she mumbled, annoyed.

  "There are also brunette ones... and the red ones."

  "I don't care how promiscuous you are with your friends."

  "Katrin never came here" he stared at her sideways "You went to the show. If you have seen us, why didn't you..."

  Her blue eyes rose to laugh at him "You're joking! I couldn't stop an idyll! I don't know how Paris can support your libertine attitude without getting hurt!" she added sharply.

  "There are things you don't know about us."

  "And I don't want to know them either" she said bitterly."But I'm sure that she takes great care of your public relations."

  Darkened, Lalanny picked up her own personal effects, shrugging. "I didn't hold back, but you can compliment your friend, some pieces were remarkable."

  "She's not my friend. You could show yourself. I didn't stay with Katrin. I would have brought you to drink something."

  Lalanny wore the sandals and checked the polish "You don't even want me to get champagne at family parties."

  Logan weighed that great truth and lowered his head, placing his elbows on his knees. "I would have put you to bed like the times you came hom
e drunk."

  Lalanny's silent cold suggested him to look at her, but usually, doing it meant choking in the resentment of her eyes, facing him like he was an enemy. "Do you mind forgetting that episode once and for all? It's been months and you talk about it like it was yesterday."

  "No, you weren't even dressed, yesterday. From the terrace I can see the pool, and you were there. Or you consider that micro bikini a full garment?"

  "My bikini is not microscopic. You are the one looking too much."

  Logan beat the eyelashes of his magnificent green eyes. "Believe me, I didn't strain my sight. Will you dine with us?"

  "Forget it" she ably smiled. "See you."

  "Lidi..."

  She turned from the door with her cheeks flaming " What's up?"

  Logan opened his mouth, but his throat suddenly shrunk. That vital organ inside him was strongly striking his ribs, and weighed like a boulder. How inconsistent was them fixing an unspecified point in the room for not looking at each other. Logan felt exhausted, he had been corroded for some time. He wondered how much he would have still resisted. But she made him feel like that. She filled his whole view. At eyes closed, the echo of her image always remained "I would have drank a glass of milk and leave you a bottle of champagne."