Max! So nice to see you!” Aaron’s secretary, Marge, gave Max a bright smile when he approached her desk. After his father’s stern leadership, it had taken a while to convince employees to call him Max instead of Mr. Carressa. In fact, though he kept a low profile, everyone but the board of directors seemed to like him. Since he’d successfully avoided a scandal for several years, the board had grudgingly let him assume a more obvious role again, even allowing him to publicly represent the company on occasion.
“You, too, Marge. Grandson graduated from college yet?” Thanks to his better-than-average memory, Max could remember a lot about people. He liked hearing about their average, comfortable lives. For the first time in his life, he got to experience it himself with Val and the kids, and he loved it.
Shaking her head, Marge said, “That lazy bag of bones is determined to live out the rest of his life in my basement. Fat chance of that happening, since I’m three times as old as him. Millennials. What’re you gonna do, right?”
Max grinned. “I’m sure I’ll have to shove my kids out the door one day, too.” He was sure he wouldn’t, not with his unique family circumstances, but he sympathized anyway. Marge smiled back and her eyes glazed over in that way women sometimes did when they looked at him—mooning would be the best way to describe it. He forced himself not to squirm; the attention always made him uncomfortable.
“Is Aaron in?”
“I’m sorry, you just missed him,” she said, like he knew she would. “He’ll be back around two, though. Would you like to talk to him then?”
“Actually, I need to leave early today. Can you send me his schedule for the rest of the week? I’ll give it to Nadine and she can set up an office call for later.”
“Sure can, Max—oh, there he is now!”
Max tried not to cringe as he turned to see Aaron walking toward him. Aaron stopped at his desk and gave Max a quizzical smile.
“Hey there, Max. Haven’t seen you in a while. What brings you over here?”
Marge answered, “He came to talk to you. I told him you were out, but I guess not quite. Perfect timing!”
“I left my wallet on my desk,” Aaron said. “Had to come back for it. What did you want to talk about?”
Max gritted his teeth for a second. He should’ve thought this through better. “I wanted to talk to you about the shareholders’ meeting tomorrow. Run some ideas I had by an objective party before bringing them up to the board, see how they’ll play.”
“Really?” Aaron’s mouth split into an eager grin, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe his luck. “I didn’t know financial geniuses needed second opinions, but I’d be honored to be your sounding board. Before I realized I had no money, I was heading out to lunch. Why don’t you join me?”
Max gritted his teeth again. Having a private lunch date with Aaron was exactly the last thing he wanted to do, but hell if he could think of a way to decline that wasn’t suspicious or rude.
He forced himself to smile. “I’d love to.”
* * *
Max knew next to nothing about Aaron or his wife. Sitting across from the analyst at the dim sum restaurant, music from a traditional Cantonese pipa wafting through air thick with the smell of steam and soy sauce, he hastened to sum up the man through quick glances. About Max’s age, Aaron kept his blond hair close-cropped despite his receding hairline, a refreshingly honest choice over the full head shave or the comb-over many middle-aged men adopted to hide the march of time. Though a slight gut pulled at the buttons of his dress shirt, he looked fit, not from a targeted exercise regimen but from playing sports he enjoyed, like basketball or squash. Team sports. A man with lots of friends, regular blue-collar types, Max guessed, in contrast to his posh wife. What drew Aaron and Lacy together, two apparent opposites, Max could only speculate. A secret connection maybe. He could relate to that.
Aaron shoved a pork dumpling in his mouth and smiled at Max, cheeks puffed with food. He regarded Max with a touch of amazement, as if he was dining with a celebrity. Max repressed an eye roll. This was why he didn’t like eating out.
After Aaron swallowed, he said, “So, you wanted to run some ideas by me?”
“Uh, yes.” Max poked at his shrimp noodle roll. “I think the company should branch out a little more into the medical market, maybe buy into Boston Scientific. But it’s only a hunch. I don’t think the board will go for it without a more compelling reason than my gut feeling.”
Rubbing his chin, Aaron nodded. “Boston Scientific’s got growth potential for sure. They’ve been sluggish the last couple quarters, but that could mean they’re gearing up for something big. Anything’s possible.” Aaron slapped Max’s arm; Max flinched at the sudden contact. “I’ve got a secret for you, dude. Most market analysis is gut feeling. You’ve got a better handle on it than the rest of us number monkeys. If even you can’t figure it out, then I sure as hell can’t help you.”
“Oh. Sorry to crash your lunch for nothing.”
“Nah, I’m grateful honestly. I’d originally planned to read a couple earnings reports and grab a salad while wishing I was eating Chinese. This is way better. Lacy’s been on my case to lose the spare tire.” He patted his stomach. “I bet you don’t have that problem.”
“You’d be surprised.”
Aaron cocked an eyebrow. “Valentine’s on your case for being fat? You?”
“Well, not about weight. Other things.”
“Like what?”
Max squirmed in his seat. He’d already said too much to someone he barely knew. “Eh, you know. We argued about getting a nanny.”
Aaron nodded. “She didn’t want one, right?”
“No, she didn’t.”
“I can tell. She’s the kind of person who thinks she can do everything herself and doesn’t want any help, even if she needs it.”
How the hell did he guess that? Max had exchanged more words with Aaron in the last few minutes than all of their previous interactions combined. He wasn’t stalking Max, was he? No, more likely he was a true people person, the thing Max pretended to be in polite company.
“Those kind of folks are tough nuts to crack,” Aaron went on. “Iron-willed, but also unyielding. My sister’s like that. Royal pain in the ass, but I love her.”
Max nodded. Aaron was right, of course. Though Max cared a lot about other people, he always kept them at arm’s length. If he got to know them, they’d get to know him, and that always ended badly—Michael and Val being notable exceptions. An open book who truly related to people…that sounded like his deceased half brother, Robby. For the first time in a long while, Max felt out of his depth. “So what do you do when your sister insists on doing things the hard way?”
“What can you do? I just let her. Either she learns, or she doesn’t. Well, you know. Your dad was kind of like that. Iron-fist type. Got results, but not a lot of friends.”
“He didn’t get results. He bullied other people to get results for him.”
Why had he said that? He flinched when he noticed he’d been rapping his chopsticks against his soy sauce dish with such force the dark liquid had slopped over the side and seeped into the white tablecloth. Forcing his hand to be still, he took a slow breath and tried to regain his composure. “But I’m sure your sister’s not like that.”
Aaron regarded Max with a new softness, a guy who knew he’d accidentally hit on a touchy topic. “Not that bad, no.” Compassion tinged his words. Or maybe pity. Goddammit. Max didn’t need anybody’s fucking pity. “I don’t tell many people this, but when I was a teenager, my dad went to prison for embezzlement. It’s still a sore spot in our family. Other kids made fun of me, Mom cried all the time, that sort of thing. A real bummer.”
“That’s…unfortunate.” Max would’ve said he was sorry, but he knew how empty those words were. Throat suddenly dry, he gulped down a mouthful of water. “Did you ever reconcile with him?”
“Nope. He died in prison. Heart attack. But life goes on, whether you like it or not. You never really get over it; you just accept it. There’s a whole field of psychology about acceptance—probably developed by people who’ve never experienced serious setbacks, they’ve just heard about it.” He snickered. “However it’s supposed to go, I think I’m in a good place now.”
So was Max…wasn’t he? Again he forced his hand to stop fiddling with the chopsticks. Any shrink would say he needed therapy—probably a lifetime of it—but if he told them about his condition, they’d diagnose him as delusional, maybe even prescribe antipsychotic meds. Aaron managed to be a fully functioning, healthy adult despite his past trauma, without therapy. If he could do it, Max could, too.
Aaron glanced at his watch. “Damn, I need to get back. Meeting at one thirty.” He leaned toward Max. “There’s this place I like to blow off steam after work, if you’d like to join me. Or don’t. Either way is cool.”
Oh yes, this was the information Val wanted. He’d nearly forgotten his original reason for dining with Aaron. “I’ve got a thing tonight, but I might drop by for a bit if I get out of work early enough. Where is it?”
“Union Street in downtown Seattle. Place called Jones’s. It’s a nice bar, very chill. I’ll send you the address, and maybe I’ll see you there.”
“Sure, maybe,” Max said, surprised he meant it. Aaron wasn’t such a bad guy. Perhaps cultivating a friendship would be good. He already felt better having talked to Aaron, whatever that meant.
After paying the bill, Max rode with Aaron back to the Thornton Building, which housed Carressa Industries headquarters. Without the convenience of valet service like Max enjoyed, Aaron parked in a garage across the street and the two walked toward work.
“Shit, I’m gonna be late,” Aaron said as he quickened his step.
Max checked the time—1:26 p.m. From behind him, a crow swooped forward and landed on the awning of the building’s glass entryway. The bird fluffed its feathers and tapped its foot on the overhang—just like in Poe’s famous poem.
Nevermore…
“Wait.” Max grabbed Aaron’s arm, stopping them both in the middle of the street.
Aaron looked between Max and the building. “Why?”
A car cruised to a halt and honked at them as Max looked at his watch again. It rolled over to 1:27 p.m.
One-two-seven. Nevermore.
“Just wait,” Max said. “Something’s not right—”
An explosion ripped open the floors above them, cutting off Max’s words in a shower of glass and steel.