Patrick

“You’re leaving?” Nya asked the next morning.

Her voice was no more than a whisper, but I was surprised I’d even gotten that. She’d let me hold her for a little while last night, but she’d pulled away, hugged the corner of my mattress for dear life, clearly intent on putting as much space between us as possible.

I hadn’t liked it, but I hadn’t pushed.

Now, she watched me as I dressed, her lids lowered, her eyes wary, suspicious. Even still, it felt right to have her here, and I wanted nothing more than to kiss her.

I didn’t.

“Yes,” I said. “I have business to attend to.”

She thinned her lips but didn’t speak, though I could guess the direction of her thoughts. I didn’t offer any information, though, and instead continued to carefully knot my tie.

When I reached for my jacket, she cleared her throat. I almost stopped but didn’t. If she needed to say something, that was on her. I’d made my point, wouldn’t be backing away from it, so it was up to her to deal with it.

“I need the phone. I have to call work. Unless you’ve decided to change your mind,” she said.

“I haven’t. Make sure they understand you don’t know when you’ll be back,” I said as I handed her the phone.

Her eyes were burning as she dialed, but she didn’t protest. A moment later she looked away, breathed deep.

“Hi, Mary, it’s Nya Henderson. Can you patch me in to Mr. Ford?”

Her face softened into a smile as she listened to the person on the other end of the line, Mary, I presumed. “Yeah, I know he’s not in this early.” Her expression darkened. “Please let him know I’m going to need to take a leave of absence. I’ve had…” She looked at me, frowned, “something unexpected come up. I don’t know when it will be resolved, so I have to take some time.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m fine or I will be, I hope. I’ll call back when I know more. Thank you, Mary.”

She smiled, chatted with Mary for a few minutes more, then hung up.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I asked as I took the phone from her hand.

“Fuck you, Patrick,” she said.

“After work, Nya,” I said.

She glared at me harder, but I saw the little spark of amusement in her eyes, was grateful for it.

“Someone will be here all day. I’ll come back as soon as I can,” I said a moment later.

She nodded but didn’t speak, and I stood there, feeling somewhat awkward. I wanted to kiss her, hug her good-bye, do something other than this, but I didn’t know what I could do, so I returned her nod and left.

I’d thought the drive to the office would give me some distance, some respite from all that had been happening with Nya, but it didn’t. I thought of her for the entire trip, remembered how upset she’d been, tried to figure out why I cared about that so much.

The drive passed in a blur, as did the ride up the elevator to the two floors of the downtown office building I rented space in.

“Coffee this morning, Mr. Murphy?”

I’d only just sat when my assistant Sophia’s voice came through the tinny intercom speakers.

I pressed the button and responded, “Yeah.”

“Very well, sir,” the woman said and then she cut off.

Typical Sophia. She was terse to the point of unfriendly, but she was damn good at her job, and she didn’t ask questions.

She didn’t try to fuck me either, which was a bonus.

She was devoted to her husband of thirty-five years, and the only time she ever displayed any softness was when she talked about him and the three daughters they’d raised together.

Those daughters were the reason she was here, I suspected. I paid double what she would have earned elsewhere, a tax for my name and reputation, but she was worth it.

As I waited, I adjusted my tie, thinking about how uncomfortable I’d been in them before. The fit still wasn’t perfect, and no suit and tie would ever change who I was, but I realized that I had grown into the role, become more than I had dreamed.

Patrick Murphy the businessman was real. Real enough to attract someone like Nya.

A marvel if I had ever seen one.

Twenty years ago when I had taken over my father’s fledgling, pathetic protection racket, I never would have dreamed that I would be where I was.

There was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” I said.

A second later, Sophia, her steel-gray hair pulled back into a tight bun, walked into my office with the small tray. I had told her that a disposable cup would be fine, but she always insisted on the whole set-up, told me it wasn’t right for a businessman not to drink out of real glassware.

She deposited the tray and coffee on the conference room table in the office and then walked toward me.

“You have a conference in fifteen minutes. There’s nothing else on the schedule today,” she said.

“When Bronson arrives, please show him in,” I said.

She nodded briskly, and then left, moving equally briskly as I waited. I’d considered not coming in today but then decided against it. Attempt on my life or not, Nya or not, I liked to keep a predictable schedule, one that looked good to all the prying eyes. Besides, there was no way I’d give the fucker who was after me the satisfaction of thinking I was hiding.

“Your ten o’clock is here,” Sophia said, again speaking over the intercom.

I stood, made my way to the conference table, and took a sip of coffee as I waited for the visitor to arrive.

“Patrick!”

Bronson Rockwell walked in and greeted me warmly as was always his practice.

I shook his hand when he reached the conference table.

“Coffee. Good idea. I have a splitting fucking headache. Have your girl bring me a cup,” he said, sitting at the conference table.

“My girl is almost sixty. And if you want coffee, go get it yourself,” I said.

Bronson laughed, but made no effort to move. Instead he shook his head. “I forgot. You always look out for your staff. I guess you identify with the more working-class among us,” he said.

“I guess I do,” I responded.

“Give it time. Soon enough you’ll forget that you were ever one of them,” he said.

“You’re here to discuss business, right?” I said.

Bronson nodded, and for the moment, his obnoxious born-rich act was gone. It wasn’t entirely fair to call it an act. He really was as obnoxious as he seemed. But he was also a hell of a businessman, and he’d helped me make a lot of money, the first legitimate money I’d ever earned.

In fact, if I looked past his rudeness, which could be hard or easy depending on the day, he wasn’t all that bad. I’d never say that out loud, though.

It still sometimes confused me that Bronson had ever agreed to do business with me. Of course, it had helped that back then Bronson’s family, a name that had been known for generations, had fallen on hard times. He’d been running on fumes when we’d met.

I’d offered him money. He’d offered me a veneer of respectability. It had been an even exchange as far as I was concerned.

Over the years, we’d developed something of a connection. Not a friendship, but a mutual respect based on mutual gain, though our dealings had all but ceased. My company had surpassed his, and he often tried to convince me to partner up with him, something I declined.

“You think over that proposition?” he asked, bringing us back to today’s business.

“No. My answer was final,” I said.

Ordinarily, a statement like that would’ve been enough to convince whoever was talking to me to drop it. Not so with Bronson.

He put on that smile that I imagined had gotten him a fair number of contracts but did nothing for me.

“Think about it. We could get the band back together again,” he said.

“Not interested,” I said.

“You sure?”

I glared at him in stony silence. He held my gaze for a moment and then broke it, waved a hand. “Fine. But you’d think loyalty would go a little bit further,” he said.

“I still take your calls,” I responded.

Bronson laughed. “Yeah, I noticed. Good thing that. Because one day I’m going to convince you,” he said.

“Unlikely. But why are you so interested in pulling me into this deal?”

“Well the money, of course,” he said.

I laughed reluctantly, remembering Bronson could sometimes be amusing in his brutal honesty.

“Of course,” I said.

“Besides, I think we worked better as collaborators than as competitors.”

“I didn’t realize that we were,” I said.

“Well you knew I wanted to put in a bid on M.,” he said.

“Yeah. You did and I won it. That’s the end of it,” I said.

He nodded, agreeing. He was quiet for a moment and then he said, “Is everything okay?”

“Why are you asking that?” I said, wondering what was driving this conversation.

“Just asking. You have a lot on your plate,” he said.

“I guess,” I said, not carrying this conversation further. There was nothing else to say.

“Well, since you’re not interested…”

He let the sentence dangle, maybe thinking I would change my mind, reconsider. He should have known me better by now.

“I not,” I said.

“You drive a tough bargain, Murphy,” he said.

“Yeah, somebody has to keep you on your toes,” I responded.

I had no reason to, but I felt compelled to try to soften the blow. Bronson was a pain in the ass, but he had been good to me when no one else had. I wouldn’t forget that.

“Well you should come over one day,” he said.

“Yeah. I might,” I said.

Bronson laughed. “I’ll never see you,” he said. I didn’t correct him, but he didn’t seem to mind. Instead he stood and left.

I was not surprised or even uneasy after Bronson’s visit.

I had worked hard, incredibly hard to build this business, and Bronson didn’t see me as an equal. I didn’t care about his opinion, but this conversation made me wonder about the path I’d taken, a question recent events only reinforced.

That issue with the feds had been bad. I knew there was a perception that I was crooked, corrupt, that if someone simply scratched beneath the surface, all of my dark secrets would come tumbling out.

They wouldn’t, at least not here.

As much as it shocked everyone, including my own brothers, my business was squeaky clean. I did nothing, not a single thing wrong. And the feds had taken more than a peek. They had dug in, had even pushed the indictment, an attempt to push me or punish me, I knew. It had cost me a pretty penny to handle that, but it had been worth it. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was somehow related to that attempt on my life. I was careful, had spent years cleaning other people’s money, so I knew what I was doing. I couldn’t help but wonder if the success of M. and the other business I’d gotten involved in had drawn some unwanted attention.

For a moment, I considered dropping it all, focusing on the family and letting the legitimate business go. I immediately dismissed the idea.

I wanted to give my brothers options, give myself options, and this was the best way to do it. I wouldn’t stray from the path.

An hour later, after a wave at Sophia, I left the office. Before I even thought, I was headed toward my house. When I walked in, I found Nya sitting in the kitchen.

“You’re back,” she said, looking at me when I walked into the room.

The need to touch her was one that wouldn’t be denied. Instead of speaking, I rushed over to her and captured her lips in a kiss. I kissed her until she was clinging to me, her body limp against mine.

I broke the kiss and looked down at her, my cock swelling when I saw the passion in her eyes.

“Yes. And it’s after work,” I said.

Nya paused, seeming to consider, but then she smiled as she lifted her hand to cup my cock.