Unlike Elsie, Caleb had an extensive amount of experience with breakups. He’d left many a woman high and dry, and although he sometimes felt guilty about it and sometimes felt like he had turned into one of those guys a girl’s mother warned her about when she was young, it was rarely a feeling that stuck with him for long. Because of this, he was genuinely astonished by the way his distress over telling Elsie to leave lingered. He expected to feel bad of course, but not nearly as bad as he did, and not for as long as he did. What he really thought was that he’d have a bottle of scotch brought up to his room and drink himself blind, drink himself dumb so that he could no longer remember his own name, let alone that awful business with Elsie. He got so far as to pick up the phone to call.

“No. No, not this way.”

It was almost as if the words came from somebody else instead of from himself. They didn’t sound like his words; the words didn’t feel like something he would say. Drinking was always the way he coped with unpleasant business such as what he had just gone through with Elsie; it had been for years and years. Sure, he had promised himself that he wouldn’t do that kind of thing anymore, that he wouldn’t be the kind of man who did that kind of thing, but promises were made to be broken. In Caleb’s opinion, the promises a person made to himself were the easiest to break of all. It wasn’t like anyone would know about it, not anyone aside from him, and what did that really matter? Why really care if he let himself down?

“I do. I care.”

Again, the voice seemed to be coming from some outside source, and Caleb wondered if he might actually be cracking up. Either that or having an out of body experience, and he honestly wasn’t sure which of the two options was less likely. He wasn’t sure, and he didn’t think he was likely to become sure, but what he was sure of was that he wasn’t going to order that bottle of liquor. He took his hand off of the phone’s receiver and sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling so bloodied and broken he could hardly believe there wasn’t any physical damage. Without his usual go-to coping mechanism, he was utterly lost. He put his head in his hands and just sat there, as still as a statue while he waited for the feelings of guilt and wrongness to disappear. Because that was at the heart of the problem, wasn’t it? It was the wrongness of the whole thing; the fact that he knew in his gut that the way he had treated Elsie had not only been unkind, but also unwarranted.

“But that would mean—”

No, he couldn’t think about that being true, either, and therein lay the rub. If the way he had reacted to Elsie and her supposed findings had been unwarranted, that would mean that the things she’d said about Marlin were all true and that was something his heart refused to believe. His head might be willing to entertain the idea, but his heart just couldn't stand it. His heart was being pulled in two directions, and those directions were absolutely diametrically opposed. Perhaps if he could just get to sleep, things would make more sense in the morning. It seemed like a real possibility, if only it hadn’t hinged on the idea of him being able to get to sleep sober. Drunk, it would have been no problem whatsoever, but sober? If he stayed sober, Caleb was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get any sleep for a long, long time. And maybe that was the way things were supposed to be. Maybe the thing he’d been trying to damp down, the thing he’d been trying to completely drown if he was going to lay all of the cards out on the table (and really, what would be the point of not doing so at this point?) was his conscience. He’d never even considered the idea and felt ashamed for that fact now. He felt so ashamed that he had to fight the urge to get the scotch all over again so that he could get rid of the thought completely, and if that didn’t prove his point, then he didn’t know what did. There was no way to wipe his mind clean and remove the things he’d learned about himself, and no way to convince himself that Elsie, both the way he’d treated her and just her in general, didn’t matter to him because she did. She mattered to him a lot, and she was the first woman whom he ever truly had mattered to him.  

When he admitted that to himself, he knew what he had to do. He got up and picked up the phone after all, but it wasn’t to get any booze. It was to reserve himself a private plane. He’d already sent Elsie away on the one that belonged to him with the belief that he would stay in Cinque Terre for at least a couple more days to clear his head. He’d never expected to be struck by the irresistible urge to go after her. When he learned that nobody could take him for another couple of hours, he felt a panic rise in his chest and had to fight the urge to scream at the poor man on the other end of the phone until he got what he wanted. This was a hell of his own making, after all, and if there was any way he was going to make it out to the other side, he was going to have to exercise a level of grace he’d never before demonstrated. So instead of yelling, he’d thanked the man, packed up his things, and headed to the private hangar to wait. The feeling of relief that washed over him once he was finally on board was so great that finally, mercifully, he drifted off to sleep.

 

“Sir? Sir, I’m sorry. Sir?”

“What?! What is it? What’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter, sir. It’s just that we’ve arrived. We’re back in New York. That, and your phone appears to be ringing.”

Caleb struggled to wake up all of the way, his head pounding and foggy with the feeling of having gotten some sleep but not nearly enough. He looked outside and saw that the pilot was right. They were indeed back in New York, and it was daylight outside. He marveled a little at the fact that he could still be so tired when he’d clearly slept for the entire duration of his flight, and he thought wistfully about how wonderful his sleep would likely have been had he spent all of the time with Elsie that he was supposed to. And when was that, exactly? When was it that everything had blown up and he had sent her away? It felt like it had happened a lifetime ago, and at the same time, it felt like it was still going on. He was starting to lose track of his days, the hours and minutes slipping by him in a landfall of confusion, anger, and heartache. He felt that he was coming to the end of it now, whatever “it” really was. This saga in his life that had begun as only a mild irritation but had grown until it was an all-encompassing torture was reaching its climax, and one way or another, it would all be over soon.

“Sir, your bags are being put in the car as we speak. Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No,” he answered graciously, his words sounding far away and unimportant in his own ears. “Thank you though. Thank you for the safe flight. I appreciate it.”

“Of course, sir. You looked like you were travelling on important business, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

Caleb smiled to show that no, he didn’t mind the pilot saying so at all. It was the truth, after all. It was the grim truth he had carried with him from across the world and the same one he continued to carry as he poured himself into the back seat of Joe’s town car. The two men didn’t speak. Joe would eventually ask him where he wanted to go, but he knew his boss well. He knew him well enough to know that when he looked the way he did now, he didn’t want to be talked to. He wanted to be left alone.

“Goddammit,” he muttered to himself, the sound of his phone ringing yet again disturbing the small amount of peace the car afforded him. He pulled it out and saw that it was his mother, and that feeling of things approaching their conclusion doubled, or even tripled maybe. He answered the phone slowly, with a feeling like he was moving through molasses, and held it up to his ear. The dread he felt was something greater than just the fact of the last awful conversation the two of them had shared. The dread he felt was something bigger, something he could not define and that had no name.

“Mom.”

“Caleb! Oh dear Jesus, thank God. Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“No, not hurt,” he answered in confusion, feeling a ripe ripple of fear rush through his body—despite the fact that he’d somehow known this conversation wasn’t going to be a good one. “I’m alright, I guess. How come?”

“How come?! Have you not heard, Caleb? Hasn’t anyone told you? Haven’t you been watching the news?”

“I’ve been on a plane, Mom. I haven’t watched the news and nobody has told me anything. Why? What’s going on?”

“It’s the corporation, Caleb. It’s the Grant Corporation. Something’s gone terribly wrong.”

“More leaked information?’

“No, son. I can only wish that’s what it was. It’s something much worse this time.”

“Worse? Doesn’t sound possible. What could be worse?”

“It’s a coup, Caleb! They’re staging a coup! It’s been leaked to all of the news sources, even the reputable ones. The board, I don’t know who the whole thing is being spearheaded by, but I know it’s the board. They’re taking over. It’s a coup, Caleb, and you’ve got to stop them.”

Caleb hung up the phone quietly. He hadn’t had any instructions for Joe before, but he sure as hell did now, and to the man’s credit, he got him to the office in record time. When Caleb strode through the two massive glass doors, he swallowed hard, and then he forced himself to swallow again. He felt like everyone was looking at him, and while that would normally be a paranoid thought to have, in this case, it was one-hundred-percent correct. He was the talk of the town, after all. He was the talk of the town, and as he rode up the elevator to the fortieth floor and stepped out onto that floor that belonged to him, he did the best he could to prepare himself for the fight he knew lay ahead.

“Mr. Grant! We had no idea you were going to be in today.”

It was Brad, his assistant, and he looked like he was about to drop down into a dead faint. Caleb wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but he also got the distinct impression that he was trying to impede his forward progress. So what, then? Was he a part of it? Had he been a part of it the whole time? Could it be that it was Brad who had been responsible for the whole mess and that Elsie had been totally wrong about Marlin’s involvement. He couldn’t help hoping that was true, but he also knew that it wasn't. All it took was one look at Brad’s nervous, twitchy face to know he wasn't the type to mastermind a hostile takeover. No, whoever it was that had orchestrated this thing would be inside that boardroom, sitting right there with the other members of the board. He pushed past Brad, Brad and his weak attempts at protest, and strode towards conference room one. Then he pulled the door open and stepped inside.

“Brother! Brother, thank God you’re here. Things have gotten pretty dire.”

“Marlin,” Caleb answered in a soft, dull voice. “Marlin, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you, Caleb. I’m here to be your voice. Nobody knew where you were, and you had to have a voice speaking for you here. It seems the board here has decided you’re unfit to run this company.”

“This company? You mean my company? The board has decided I’m unfit to run my own company?”

Marlin shrugged his shoulders in a way that made it clear he was claiming zero responsibility for what was unfolding while the board glanced around at each other, every single one of them refusing to look Caleb in the eye. What cowards they must have been, to try and take what was his right from underneath him and then refuse to look at him while they did it. And then there was the matter of Marlin. How badly Caleb had hoped not to see his brother in that room, how deeply hurt he was when he had been greeted by that face. All he could think about was the scene in the second Godfather movie where Al Pacino confronted his brother for being his betrayer. He’d told his brother that he’d broken his heart, and now Caleb knew that feeling was just about right.

“That’s right, baby brother. They’re unhappy with the way things have been going. I’ve been sitting in with them for at least an hour now, trying to hammer things out.”

“Have you now?”

“Well sure. For you, baby brother.”

“And what have you guys landed on?”

“Well, it’s not the best solution, but I think you’ll be willing to go along with it. It keeps everything in the family, and that’s got to be a good thing, right?”

“Just tell me.”

“They’re demanding that you step down. At first, they wanted to elect a new president of their own, but we settled on having me in your stead. After some time goes by, if we can solve this information leak and maybe tone down the behavior, I’ll bring you back into things. It’s the best way, Caleb. Surely you can see that.”

Caleb felt very much like he was falling. He’d come here with the intention of fighting tooth and nail for what was his, but in his heart of hearts, he hadn’t expected to find this. He hadn’t expected to find his brother already having neatly inserted himself in his position. To make matters worse, he’d been so quick to throw Elsie away, to kick her out of their hotel room and then to fire her, that he hadn’t obtained one shred of evidence against Marlin. If he’d only listened, he could have disproved the more salacious information that had been released about him personally as well as prove that Marlin was the leak. He could have done something if he’d kept her around, but as things stood now? There was nothing. No course of action he could conceive of that would put an end to this madness. For the first time, he had to entertain the real possibility that when he walked out of Grant Corporation, it would no longer be his.

“Hello, gentlemen. Sorry to interrupt.”

Caleb’s head snapped up and out the corner of his eye he saw that every other head in the room did the exact same thing. At first, he was sure he was hallucinating. He had wanted Elsie; he wanted her comfort and her information so badly that he had conjured her up out of thin air. It was only when she stepped close by his side and squeezed his arm that he was sure he wasn’t dreaming. Then, when Marlin took an angry, uncertain step towards them both, he was sure.

“You can’t be in here, okay? This is a closed meeting.”

“I can be in here if Caleb says I can. He’s the president, right?”

“No, actually, he’s not.”

“Right. I thought that might be your answer. That’s why I made sure to make copies of everything on Caleb’s computer. Sorry, babe. It seemed like the best thing to do. I brought them with me, you know, just in case of a rainy day.”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Marlin spat, his face going redder and redder with each word she spoke.

“Oh, everything, that’s all. I bet you didn’t know that every piece of computer equipment in this Corporation ultimately runs through Caleb’s computer, did you? And I’d be willing to bet really good money that you didn’t know that I work for a company that specializes in hacking.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“That’s right. That’s what I do. I’ve been looking into the way things have been going on here lately, and I’ve got some pretty interesting information to show you guys. I think a couple of you are going to be particularly interested.”

By the time Elsie was done putting on her show, she had proved without a shadow of a doubt that not only Marlin but two of the six board members had been in on the plot to see him dethroned. Caleb was sure that—later on—once he’d had time to digest all of the information, he would be both furious and deeply saddened, but for the moment, he was mostly just in awe of Elsie. She’d been undeniably powerful in her demonstration and had then transferred the power back to him seamlessly. It was left to him to decide whether or not to prosecute, something he didn’t feel comfortable deciding until he’d had some time to think. What he did feel comfortable doing was letting the board members, all of them, know that they were now out of a job. Each of them had a contract, and each of those contracts contained a loyalty clause that they had all signed. The meeting they had all just participated in was a violation of that clause, and therefore voided their contracts. They filed out of the room—one by one—each looking more stunted than the last. The last person to go was Marlin, and although he had made a last ditch appeal to Caleb’s sense of brotherly loyalty, Caleb had not been moved. The only thing that moved him at that point was Elsie and the knowledge that the way he had treated her had been one-hundred-percent wrong.

“There you go,” she said amiably enough when the two of them were finally alone in the freezing cold conference room that had almost been the scene of his undoing. “It looks like it’s finally over. You dodged a bullet.”

“No, I didn’t. You stopped it for me.”

“I didn’t really do anything.”

“You did though. You did everything, even after I behaved like a complete ass. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to apologize to you. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to make it up to you, only that I’d give anything for you to give me the chance.”

“I’m not sure what you’re asking me, Caleb.”

“I’m asking you for a second chance. It’s a big thing to ask for, probably the biggest thing I ever could ask for from you, but I’m asking all the same. Because I want to give it a try with you, Elsie. I want to give it a real try. If you’ll let me.”

And to that, for the second time that day (although Caleb had no way of knowing this), Elsie uttered a sentence in response that was short and sweet and to the point.

“Can I think about it?”