RUPERT
I knew Nolan was messing around, but I could’ve so easily stayed in bed with him this morning, and just let the world go fuck itself. When I came in from getting dressed, my breath caught at seeing him laid out on his bed, in soft crumpled sheets that I knew smelled like fucking and us. In the end, the same sight that made me want to stay, also gave me the reason I needed to leave.
Nolan was both right and wrong during our argument after the gala.
I didn’t ask him to go ahead without me because I wanted to keep him in the shadows, it was more that I wanted to protect him from having to hear a colleague of mine speak the way he did. I should have known, Nolan didn’t need my protection, and I’d actually robbed myself of having his strength at my side when William let loose.
Instead, like Batman’s utility belt or some shit, Nolan’s junk-scented tie around my neck gives me all the strength I need as I make my way towards William’s office. That mouth breathing, throat clearing, homophobic lump of shit is about to get a piece of my mind.
Striding in without knocking, I know I’ve caught him by surprise when his eyes nearly bug out of his head at my sudden appearance. His mouth opens to speak, but I cut him off, “No Bill. You had your say at the gala, it’s my turn now.”
Calm and controlled, I’m the image of professionalism; anyone walking by would assume we were having a friendly Monday morning chat.
“If you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me or about me and the man I love that way again, I’ll go straight to the Mayor’s office. I’ll file a bullying & harassment suit so fast, it’ll make your head spin. You want to talk about causing the City embarrassment and bringing shame to fellow council members? Let’s see what a full-blown news media assault looks like when they get of wind of what you said. You’ll be hung out to dry, Bill, and I’ll be the one whipping up the wind. Pull your head out of your ass and look around you, Mr. Patrick. Plantain might not be totally out of the dark ages yet, but you sure as fuck can see the light, and it’s headed straight for the cave you’re living in!”
Other than his eyes narrowing with something close to hatred, his face is impassive. I can see his chest move deeply; taking a breath to respond I’m sure, but this conversation is over.
“Good talk Bill,” my dismissal of his bullshit is clear in my voice. Slowly smoothing my hand down the front of Nolan’s tie, I watch as his eyes widen with the recognition of knowing who’s it is, then add, “We’re done here.”
With that I stride to his open office door, reaching over to pull it shut behind me. As it latches, I hear him mutter something under his breath, but honestly, I don’t give a fuck.
Whistling, I continue to walk back down the corridor to my office. I hope Beth is here soon; I need coffee and a bagel, all that fucking over the weekend has left me ravenous.
***
It’s Friday morning and I’m rushing out of a boring as fuck statistics seminar. I look at my watch and know I’m cutting it close to making it to the budget meeting in the conference room downstairs before it starts. Nolan has been blowing up my phone with calls, but I’ve not been able to listen to his messages, or call him back. His last message was a text that simply read:
NF: CALL ME THE FUCK BACK!
So jammed up with all the directions I’m being pulled in today, I don’t consider that he’s calling me for any reason other than personal. He’s headed to Beaver Falls late next week to put in a proposal for another PC job, and suggested if I took a day off, we could then go on to Vegas for the weekend. I’m keen to go, but I haven’t asked for the time off yet. Nolan needs an answer as he’s hoping to get tickets to a band he likes that are playing locally. I’ll need to make a few minutes after this meeting to call him back.
Reaching the ground floor, I see Beth is at the reception desk, and I veer a little from my path to swing past her. Catching her eye, I give her a chin lift, and whisper-shout, “Heads Up!” before tossing her my phone. Without stopping, I add over my shoulder, “Could you please call Nolan and let him know I’m in back-to-back meetings, but he’s my next call and I’ll have an answer for him? Thanks Beth!”
As I push open the door, I look around and see that I am in fact the last one there. Making my way to the only seat left in the room, I nod in greeting to a few of the other men, and I see William smirking to himself, looking down at his phone. We’ve stayed out of one another’s way since my ‘talk’, and that works just fine for me. Sitting down, I place my folders on the smoked glass conference table in front of me and pull the budget folder from the stack. Opening it, I look up at one of the city’s accountants, and nod, letting her know she can begin.
She’s been speaking for no longer than five minutes when all heads turn at the opening of the conference room door. Poor Beth blushes instantly at being the center of everyone’s immediate focus, but holds her head up as she indicates that she’s there for me. The accountant nods, and then starts to speak again, while I watch Beth lower her eyes and make her way around to me.
“I’m so sorry Mr. Harrington, but Mr. Frederickson really needs to speak with you. He says it’s urgent, and insisted that I come get you.”
Beth speaks in a soft tone, but is heard by those around me. I can tell by her voice that something bad has happened. Fear and worry for Nolan’s safety instantly boils in my stomach and I feel sick. I quickly gather my things and stand, preparing to leave.
“Everything okay, Mr. Harrington?” I look over to see William Patrick feign concern, like he gives a shit.
“If you’ll excuse me councilors, I am about to find that out,” I say, taking a step towards the door.
“I hope there’s nothing wrong at the high school gymnasium site,” William tuts, “Did Mr. Frederickson say anything about that Beth?” his focus directly on her.
What the fuck is this guy’s deal? Can he not see we’re trying to get the fuck out of here to find out?
I look over at Beth, her face is downcast, and the uneasy feeling in my stomach goes from mild to violent.
“Oh for goodness sake Ms. Adams, I asked you a direct question. A simple answer will suffice.” William demands, and I watch in a sort of outside my body, slow motion, as he seems to have taken control of the room.
“Yes, sir. Mr. Frederickson was calling to say that the high school build site has been shut down. It failed a build inspection.”
I swear to fuck, all the air in the room leaves when every single person gasps and looks directly at me; questions I don’t have answers for clear in their eyes.
Everyone that is, but William Patrick. That fucker is smiling.
***
Assuring my colleagues that I’ll find out what’s happened, and that I’m sure it will be easily rectified – which by the way, I don’t know is true - I quickly move out of the room. I hope it’s something that I can sort out. Jesus fucking Christ! It’s strange in a way, because even though I now know Nolan is safe and hasn’t been hurt on the job, the feeling of impending doom hasn’t gone away. It’s sitting heavy in my gut, making my heartbeat erratically and for the life of me I can’t imagine what the fuck could have gone wrong.
Reaching reception, Beth passes me my phone, and I hit call on Nolan’s contact. He answers on the second ring.
“What the fuck has taken you so long to call me back?!”
Nolan’s furious. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard him this angry and considering our yelling match Saturday night, that’s saying something.
“I was in meetings. Beth just told me about the site. What the fuck happened?” I talk while moving back towards the elevator bank to get up to my office.
“You tell me Rupert, you’re the one who was supposed to handle all the paperwork, remember?” he says, and I don’t like the implied accusation in his tone.
“Hold the fuck up, Nolan. I don’t even know what the violation was for? I’m grabbing my things now and coming to you,” I inform him, stepping inside the opened elevator doors.
“Hello!?” he says, full of sarcasm. “The site has been shut down, where the fuck do you think you’re going to go? Stay there, I’m on my way to you. My dad is gonna shit a cow, I need answers Rupert, and I need them now.”
“Calm down, we’ll get it sorted out. What was the violation for?” I ask for the second time, my voice neutral in tone. I’m trying to be the voice of reason here. My hope is that if I keep my shit tight, Nolan will be reassured that I have his back, and we’ll find the solution together.
With that the line disconnects. It’s either due to the closing of the elevator doors, or he’s hung up on me. Fuuuuccck.
Reaching the second floor, as soon as I clear the metal doors, I’m dialing the number of the building inspector. Shit, straight to voicemail.
Nolan gave me no answer as to what went wrong and I want to know what we’re facing here. If it’s an easy fix, PC may only be shut down for a week, max. Something larger and we could be facing a month long delay, maybe more. Getting a project like this up and running takes a lot of work, but getting one started back up after a serious infringement closure? That shit can feel like the impossible.
Placing my phone down on the large work table across from my desk, I leave the redial option open, systematically hitting it while I sift through the many folders and plans in front of me. They’re all blurring together and I bang my fist on the table in frustration. Goddamn it, I can’t believe this is happening.
Plantain Construction is a family business. Built from the ground up by brothers who aren’t related by blood, but are brothers nonetheless, it’s the livelihood of a lot of people. Not to mention, it’s the foremost construction company in the region. Their reputation is impeccable. Christ, I think they’re even receiving an award for Outstanding Achievement or some shit at the Annual Leading Business Awards next week. This thought sinks into the pit of acid in my stomach. PC has their shit together. This fuck up must be on our end, on my end.
Taking a deep breath, I begin to go back over all the paperwork in front of me; the answer has to be in here somewhere. The sound of my office door slamming shut makes my head snap to the left and I see Nolan charging towards me.
“So help me God, Rupert, what the fuck kinda set-up are you running here?”
“Nolan, for fuck sake, just tell me what happened! I can’t get Steve to answer my call and you fucking hung up on me!”
I’m guessing that last part and I’m hoping he’ll deny it, that way I’ll know it was a lost connection, and not his actions. He says nothing.
“Tell me,” I’m nearly shouting at him now, “I’m flying blind here!”
“Flying blind? You’re flying blind? Try building a high school gymnasium with two different sets of schematics! One for foundation and structure and one for the plumbing, electrical and interior – and they don’t fuckin’ match!” he yells back, tossing the folders from under his arm on the table.
“What? That’s not possible,” my disbelief clear in my tone, “I caught that problem weeks ago. I fixed it.”
“You what?” Nolan’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline. “You knew there was a fuck up and didn’t tell me? Didn’t you think it important enough to inform the fucking Construction Manager that there was an issue and give him the heads-up about it?”
“I didn’t tell you because there was nothing to tell!” I’m getting pissed now; this is starting to feel like a reprimand, “I caught it right before the project started. Everyone had the right plans by the time ground broke.”
“Well we fucking didn’t, did we? Now Steve has issued a violation because the permits we have for each part of the construction look like they’re for two different fucking buildings!”
“So it’s a time penalty?” I ask, finally getting a hint at what the infringement was for.
“What?”
“It’s a time penalty? The violation? You’ve been shut down for up to seven days to get your paperwork in order and you’ll be inspected again before the site closure is lifted.”
“I know what a time penalty is Rupert. This,” he sweeps his hand over the top of the worktable, indicating all the plans in front of us, “is not my first time building shit.”
“Ah, but it is mine. That’s what you’re getting at right? The green, new kid on the block, fucked up.”
“Jesus, this is too much…” he trails off, running his palm over the front of his face and up into his hair, his frustration clear.
“What do you mean, ‘this is too much’?” I question, not really wanting to know the answer.
“This,” he motions between the two of us, “We should have never… I knew I should’ve just…” he doesn’t finish either of those statements, but I push him. I want to know what the fuck he’s saying.
“You knew you should’ve just what Nolan? Finish your fucking sentence,” I say, my jaw clenched. If he’s going to end us, over this shit, then he can be the one to do it.
Don’t misunderstand me, I get that this is serious and there is a lot at stake here, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed. The time violation will set us all back, but I have all the right plans and the permits can be reissued within days. Hopefully PC is insured against errors like this, to compensate for wages and shit, but if they’re not, then they can sue the city. Hell, I’ll help them fill out the paperwork and sign a liability waiver. I don’t give a fuck if I lose my job, PC is more important.
Nolan is more important.
Speaking to his dusty boots, Nolan’s tone is icy calm, “I wanted off this project Rupert. I actually took myself off it.” Lifting his head to give me his piercing blue eyes, I hold his gaze, and my breath. I know what’s coming.
“Then, you show up, at my fucking house, and I cave. I ignored the screaming voice in my head telling me us working together was a bad idea, all because you make my fucking dick hard!”
“Go on,” I tell him, sensing that he’s got more to get off his chest.
“Can you honestly tell me your head’s been fully in the game on this? That you’re totally on top of everything? You’ve already admitted there was one fuck up you had to fix. Maybe rather than worrying about what your colleagues are saying about the new guy fucking the contractor, you should have been worrying about this!” He slams his hand on the table and the papers jump in reaction, some of them falling to the floor.
And there it is. What this is really about.
He still doesn’t think I’m in this, really in this, with him. It hurts, but I get why he’s gun-shy. I didn’t tell him I’d confronted William on the Monday morning after the gala, and I didn’t tell him that I couldn’t care less what others thought of me being with him. What I did tell him was that I loved him. I’d thought it would be enough.
“You done?” I ask looking at him, nodding my head toward the table he’d just hit.
My question is more about his rant than about us, but the way he’s looking, I can’t tell how he took it.
“Yeah, I’m done.”
With that Nolan picks up his folders and walks out of my office.
What I don’t know is, if he’s just walked out of my life too.