Tycoon Takedown

by Ruth Cardello

  Her parents came out of the back of the house, looking unusually disheveled. Her mother was smoothing her salt-and-pepper hair back into her usually perfectly tied knot.

  “Mel, we didn’t know you were coming today. Is Jace outside?”

  Melanie looked back and forth between her parents’ flushed faces and decided she didn’t want to know what they’d been up to before she got there. “I probably should have called first,” she said.

  “No, no,” her mother protested and straightened the neckline of her dress. She took a second look at her daughter’s expression and was suddenly concerned. “Has something happened?”

  Everything Melanie regretted came crashing in on her in one tidal wave of emotion. She began to shake as tears she’d held in during the flight and the ride to her parents’ house resurfaced. “I don’t know what to do, Mom. I’ve been wrong so many times. I screwed up my life, and now I’ve taken something away from Jace that he deserved to have. How can I look him in the eye when I’m a horrible mom?”

  Her mother looked at her father, then back at her.

  Melanie hugged herself and shook her head violently. “You were right when you told me I should be ashamed of myself. I am. I don’t know what to do . . . how to be better than I am. I thought I could make things right, but it’s too late.”

  Her mother rushed to her side and led her to a chair, taking a seat beside her. “You stop right there, Melanie. I said many things I regret and that was one of them. Jace is a wonderful boy. You’ve been a good mother to him. Just tell me what happened. Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it—together.”

  “There’s nothing you can do about this one, Mom. It’s done.”

  “Are you pregnant again?” her father asked gruffly.

  “I wish it was that,” Melanie said without thinking, then regretted the words that wiped all color from her father’s face. She dabbed away her tears in frustration and clarified. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I’m not pregnant. I don’t wish I was pregnant.” She buried her face in her hands. “It’s just that I could find some good in that mistake.”

  Her mother put an arm around her shoulders. “We’re here for you, Mel. We always have been. Whatever it is, you can tell us.”

  Melanie raised her eyes to meet her father’s. “I never told you about Jace’s father because I was too ashamed to tell you the truth.”

  Neither of her parents moved while they waited for her to explain.

  “I met him at college. We didn’t even date.”

  Her father made a sound deep in his chest, but didn’t say anything. Her mother’s face twisted with compassion, but she also kept her thoughts to herself.

  “We were together one time and then we never spoke again.” Melanie choked back fresh tears. “He didn’t care about me. I told myself he wouldn’t care about Jace, either.” Melanie wrung her hands nervously in front of her. “I don’t know, maybe I was also afraid he could take Jace from me. I know it was wrong, but I didn’t think about how it would hurt Jace to not know him. I convinced myself we were better off without Todd.”

  Softly, her mother said, “But?”

  “But Jace started asking about him. He wanted to know why his father didn’t care about him.”

  “Sounds like it’s high time you tell Todd about him, then,” her father said in the same stern voice he’d used to issue curfews to her when she was younger.

  “I tried,” Melanie said sadly. “I went to New York because that was the last place that anyone had heard he’d gone. He’d moved there to be closer to his parents.” Melanie closed her eyes as memories from her conversation with Todd’s parents replayed in her head. “But I was too late. He died last year without ever knowing he had a son.” Gathering her courage, Melanie opened her eyes again and faced her father.

  Her father said nothing, but his jaw tightened visibly.

  Her mother gasped.

  Heartfelt questions burst out of Melanie. “What do I tell Jace? How do I not cry and beg him to forgive me the next time he asks about his dad?”

  “You—” Her father started to speak in a harsh tone, but her mother cut him off.

  “If you’re about to say what I think you are, don’t. She doesn’t need a lecture right now. We waited a long time for her to come home to us. I will not lose her again.”

  Her father crossed the room and sat on the other side of Melanie. There was a sadness in his eyes that she was all too familiar with because it darkened her own soul. He sat forward with his hands between his knees and said, “No one said parenting was easy, Mel. We all do the best we can and all have to face where we fall short. I’ve never been one to talk matters out. Your mom knows that. It’s why she does most of the talking around here.”

  His wife gave him a tolerant smile. “I know you’re leading up to something sweet, but you’re taking your time getting there.”

  Melanie quietly digested what he’d said. They’re doing the best they can, just like me. Suddenly, they were human to her. Not just people who had raised and disappointed her, but parents struggling to make things right. Their love for each other and understanding of one another was strong, even in the face of this. Her mother wasn’t pointing fingers and blaming her father, but she was making her opinion clear. There was a beauty in the conversation despite how difficult it was to have. And their love for her was there—plain as day.

  Her father sat up and looked Melanie in the eye. “You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, Mel. Jace is a fine boy. You’ve done a good job of raising him. Maybe he wasn’t meant to meet his father. That’s a conversation best left for you and God. When Jace asks, you tell him that his father loved him and would have been with him if he could have been. It’s not the whole truth, but something he’ll understand until he’s old enough to hear more.”

  Within the comfort of her mother’s embrace, Melanie dried her eyes. She’d spent much of the past five years telling herself she didn’t want to be like her parents, and now she found herself feeling the exact opposite.

  Her mother asked, “What about Todd’s parents? Do they know they have a grandchild?”

  Melanie shook her head. “I didn’t tell them. They sounded like they were still mourning.”

  Her father stood again. “Children aren’t supposed to go first. They’ll be mourning for the rest of their lives, but you need to tell them. I would want to know.”

  Melanie’s mother nodded in solemn agreement. “Even though he never met Jace, part of Todd lives on in him. Your father’s right. You have to tell them.”

  Melanie stood and held out her arms toward the parent she thought she’d lost forever. “Dad, I’m sorry for all the awful things I said when I moved out.”

  Her father hugged her to his large chest and didn’t say a word.

  He didn’t have to.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I don’t want to talk to him,” the young man snarled as he leapt from his seat in the social worker’s small office and confronted Charles, who was still standing.

  “Sit down, TJ,” the social worker ordered from his seat at a small, file-covered desk in the corner of the room. Charles doubted that the man intimidated many people, even when he raised his voice with authority. He looked more like an accountant, and it was clear the boy before him wouldn’t respect anyone less than a bouncer.

  “No!” TJ raged. “You here because I said I’d sue you? You and your girlfriend should be scared. You can’t tie people up and then put it all over the Internet.”

  “No one is suing anyone—” the social worker interjected.

  “You can’t stop me. I have lawyers calling every day. They say that what you did was wrong.”

  Charles sighed and held his temper. From what he’d learned about Tanner Jacob Moss, he’d had a rough life and had a right to be angry. His father had been a small-time drug dealer who’d died on the streets. His mother had overdosed when he was nine. Even though he’d stayed clean from drugs, he’d spent the years since
then bouncing from one foster home to the next while his bad behavior escalated—just recently turning criminal. “You did steal her purse,” Charles reminded him blandly.

  “Fuck you,” the boy said.

  “That’s enough, TJ. Wait outside the door for me,” the social worker said.

  “You think I’m going to wait while you two sit in here and talk about me? I’ll—”

  The social worker stood and shook his head. “You’ll wait because you’re lucky you’re not in juvenile right now, and that’s only because no one pressed charges. Your options are shrinking, my friend, as is the list of those willing to take a risk on you. Go find a seat in the next room and don’t move. Now go.”

  After Tanner left the office, Charles looked at the social worker and said, “He’s a handful.”

  The social worker nodded and motioned to the chair the boy had left. “Please, sit.”

  Charles politely declined. When his lawyer had called and said that he’d located the boy who had taken Melanie’s purse, he hadn’t expected to want to get involved. Yet here he was, in a part of town he’d never been in, discussing a boy he was sure he had no business asking about.

  The social worker picked up a file. “I’m not supposed to share any information with you, but your situation is unique.”

  Charles rocked back on his heels and decided not to ask. “Is he in a group home now? My lawyer said he was removed from his foster family.”

  The social worker tapped his pen on the folder. “Why are you here, Mr. Dery?”

  Charles shrugged, as yet still unable to answer that question for himself. “I want to do something for him.”

  Sitting up with renewed interest, the social worker asked, “Financially?”

  Charles raised a hand and motioned for the conversation to slow. “Maybe. I’m not in a position to give him a home. Are there different levels of group homes? One I could help pay for?”

  One of the social worker’s eyebrows rose. “They aren’t like hotels, Mr. Dery.”

  Impatiently, Charles said, “Well, what does he need? I’ll buy him whatever . . . so he won’t have to steal to get it.”

  “TJ stole because he knew it would get him removed from his latest placement. He wasn’t getting along with the father.”

  “Why didn’t you move him?” Charles boomed.

  “It’s not that easy. TJ is almost eighteen and he’s built up a reputation for being a tough placement. I didn’t have other options. I was hoping they could work it out. That home has been a good fit for some others. But it wasn’t for him.”

  “So that’s it? You’re done? He goes to a group home and you give up?”

  “Mr. Dery, you have no idea how many children I have on my roster, do you? Each and every one of them needs more time and more resources than I have. I lose sleep every time one of them is disappointed by another adult in their life. But I’m one man. I can’t save them all. I try, and sometimes I fail, and I have to live with that. But don’t question if I care about TJ. I’ve been watching out for him for almost seven years. How long have you cared about him? How long will you?”

  Charles rubbed his chin roughly. “What would you have me do?”

  Some of the aggression left the social worker as he sensed the sincerity in the question. “We have a mentoring program. You’d meet somewhere public once a week. Check in on him. Keep after him about his grades, ask him about who he spends his time with . . . be a stable person in his life. That’s what he needs. I’m there for him, but I’m paid to be and he knows that. He needs one person who cares about him. Someone he can’t drive away by stealing a purse. It doesn’t cost anything, but giving him that could be what saves his life. Can you be that person?”

  Before Melanie, Charles would have said no. He would have cited a hundred reasons why his schedule didn’t allow for additional time commitments.

  But he’d watched the still-trending video at least twenty times since she’d left. And each time, he liked his reaction to the boy less. How had he become a man who lacked compassion? Compared to what Tanner had gone through, his tragedy was minor. After his loss, he’d still had parents who loved him and a stable home. Parents who loved him still, even though he hardly ever went home to visit them.

  “I can’t imagine he’d want me as his mentor.”

  For the first time since Charles had walked into his office, the social worker smiled. “Not at first. No. But I’ll make sure he meets you. Don’t expect him to open up immediately. He’s had a lot of disappointments in his life and he’s learned not to trust anyone. But keep your appointments with him. Be there to listen to him and that will change.”

  After a quiet moment, Charles nodded. He’d done many things in his life that he regretted, things he’d give anything to be able to go back in time and fix. This could be his chance to set some of it right.

  Charles walked out of the office. Tanner wasn’t in the seat the social worker had asked him to sit in, but he was down the hallway and was glaring at Charles.

  Charles didn’t know if he would reach the young man or fail miserably, but he had to try.

  For Tanner’s sake as well as his own.

  Charles was riding back to his office in his limo when his phone rang.

  “You’re answering your phone again. Is that a good sign or a bad one?” Mason asked with humor.

  Charles glared out the window at nothing in particular. “It’s been a long week. My latest client was a hard sell, but I finally have him fully on board.”

  “Most people sound happier announcing shit like that.”

  “I told you—”

  “I know. Long week. So your bad mood has nothing to do with your girlfriend, Melanie?”

  “She’s not my anything,” Charles snapped.

  “Ouch. Touchy subject. Did you have a fight? She kick your ass? You don’t have to tell me. No, scratch that—you owe me the highlights. Did she want to tie you up all the time so you broke it off? I’m not into that personally, but for a woman that beautiful I’d pretend to be.”

  “You’re so full of shit. And I’m not having this conversation right now,” Charles said and was about to hang up, but Mason started talking again.

  “You were a lot more fun in college. What did New York do to you?”

  “I believe it’s called growing up. You might want to try it.” Although his words were harsh, he was ribbing more than reprimanding his friend. This was a conversation they’d had so many times before, it had become a running joke between the two of them.

  “No, thanks. You’re serious enough for both of us. So now that you and Melanie are over, want to head to Vegas with me for a weekend? I have some friends who are gathering out there. It’s going to be quite a bash.”

  Although they were living very different lives, a part of Charles would always appreciate Mason’s friendship and offers. “I’ll be working through the weekend.”

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  Charles closed his eyes briefly. “I asked her to stay and she left.”

  “That sucks.”

  He almost denied it, but one of the reasons he and Mason had remained friends for so long is that they could be real with each other. “Yes, it does.”

  “Did she say why?”

  “No, she left while I was sleeping.”

  “The old sneak-out-in-the-middle-of-the-night move. I hate that one—unless I’m the one doing it. Did you call her?”

  Charles opened his eyes and rubbed one of his temples. “Yes. Three times. She’s not taking my calls. I’m done. Asking her and her son to move in with me was ridiculous anyway. What the hell would I do with a five-year-old in my house? I don’t want to raise someone else’s child. I don’t even want my own. I’m glad she left.”

  Mason was quiet for a moment, then said, “Maybe you should contact your sister and see if she knows anything.”

  “No. It’s over.”

  “Okay, if you say so.”

  “I do.”


  “So, no Vegas?”

  “No.”

  “Call your sister,” Mason said and hung up.

  Charles shook his head, and rejected the idea right then and there.

  He rejected it again later that day when he sat in his office, blindly staring at its closed door, mulling over what Mason had said.

  He was not going to call Sarah. He would, however, stop avoiding her attempts to contact him.

  The past week had given him time and perspective. He didn’t need to explain his side to anyone.

  I offered Melanie everything.

  She didn’t want it.

  End of story.

  Chapter Fourteen

  That night, Melanie had just put Jace down to sleep when there was a knock on her screen door. Sarah stepped inside and closed the door softly behind her when she saw Melanie. “You’re still up. Good. I was afraid I’d have to wait until tomorrow to hear what happened.”

  From anyone else, the statement would have felt like an intrusion, but Sarah had come to her out of love and Melanie was in dire need of some. “Come in. I just put Jace down, so we’ll have to talk softly.”

  Sarah held out a small paper bag. “I brought chocolate.”

  “How did you know I needed it?” Melanie took the bag gratefully and walked with Sarah to the living room.

  “When you picked up Jace without saying anything about your trip, I figured it didn’t go well.” She plopped down beside Melanie and dug into the bag, pulling out a piece for Melanie and one for herself. “Did you find Todd?”

  Melanie unwrapped the chocolate carefully, not meeting Sarah’s eyes as she answered, “I did.”

  “And?” Sarah pushed gently.

  “He died over a year ago. An aneurysm while he was running.”

  Sarah dropped her candy and put an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you call me when you found out?”

  Melanie continued to play with the wrapper on her lap. “I wouldn’t have known what to say. It still doesn’t feel real.”

  “Loss can be like that. It hits you in stages.”