Chapter 16

Michael

Three days. Seventy two hours. Ever since she left there’s been a clock hanging over my head, ticking, ticking, ticking. The girl was becoming poison to me. There was something to her that I couldn’t get enough of. What exactly, I wasn’t able to think on enough - because after every little annoyance I went back to missing her.

Walking along the tenth floor of Smoak headquarters, I looked down from the silver railings as I walked. All the people doing their respective jobs. Rushing between their cubicles, coming in and out of security; checking numbers through their computers, answering phones left and right. Even still, it wasn’t enough of a distraction to keep me from the thought of Jane.

I made my way down the gold and orange corridor, working my way to Conference Room C. Even before I got my door on the handle I knew that this was going to be a rough one.

I opened the door and pushed it back after stepping through, letting it shut and click behind me. Only thin shafts of light bled through the shuttered windows here; this was one of the more secluded areas of the building – barring the top most executive rooms.

The conference room was filled with the familiar high-ranking individuals employed by both myself and my father: Tim. Charles. Zoe and Dresden. Moving over to my chair, I sank in to it, eying at all the various papers requiring my full review.

Charles adjusted his blue and red tie. “Silver’s associate just made a scathing change to the terms,” he grimly explained, only making the anger boil over my bones more. Cameron Silvers was one of the most sought after clients in the whole music industry; a titan of the Rock and Pop world that could bend the markets both in, and out, of America. “Because of low production,” he glanced towards Tim, “particularly of one individual... they no longer wish to do business at the given rate.” I had half a nerve to smack the papers off of the table.

Tim sipped on his Mega Gulp casually, darting his eyes between me and Employee. “Who are we talking about?” He asked. In my head, I imagined them all pointing red foam fingers in his general direction.

“We’re talking about you,” I was scolding him. He was one of the numerous reasons that the client fell by the wayside, but it still raked at me to be dismantling my friend. “The biggest live act since Guns and fucking Roses, and you’re all too busy scalping tickets from the cesspool arena that we call your collective brains.” Hundreds of millions of dollars vanished like a wisp of smoke in the air.

Between the anger and the duty of having to give them something to strive for, Jane cropped up once more. The smell of her hair hit me all over again like a cool breeze; a soft remedy to the sickness of this errant storm.

Tim leaned forward onto the table, playing absently with his Mega Gulp straw. “I’ve been doing all I can,” he meekly argued with me, a hint of guilt evident in his voice. “You know,” the room’s focus landed all on him, “while I start up my personal business. It’s a-- Well, it’s a learning process.”

“That’s not even close to good enough,” I berated, a fresh rush of anger tickling at the soles of feet, worming it’s way upward. “If you’re going to run this company,” just saying the words left bitter ash in my mouth. Every step I took only seemed to take me further and further away from everything that I burned for. “Don’t run it into the ground,” I rapped my hand hard against the table, making the papers on the table jump.

Zoe Barnes shot me a look. “Don’t be so hard on him,” she chided, “he was appointed for your future title for a reason. I know better than anyone.” The way she said it was a hook right to my face.

It wasn’t just the business and the Mob creeping on me that was infecting my head and heart. It was Jane; looking at me with those beautiful purple eyes, water brimming and glinting in their corners.

Getting through today was not going to be a simple task.

***

After attending to some on site inspections across the city of Chaos - horribly tedious and meticulous work - I rolled up to my quiet estate, parking inside of the front garage.

Magdalene’s dark green Opel Cascada was still here.

Killing the engine, I shut the car door and made a purposeful stride to the garage button, moving outside as the white door folded down behind me. At the front entrance, I shoved in the master key, turning the lock and shutting the door behind me.

Letting out a long sigh, I strolled up the foyer stairs, taking a left and listening to my footsteps clack against the floor. Turning down another corridor, I already knew where I needed to go. Coming into view was Magdalene dressed in her rose wine, long sleeve, V neck Paisley blouse; complimented by a pair of pine grove, slim fit ankle pants. She was busy dusting off one of my Bulgarian vases done by Dragomir Aleksander.

She turned her head to look at me, sensing my presence. “You’re home early,” she offered politely, putting the navy blue duster to her side. There wasn’t another woman like her in my life. Caring, dutiful, always ready to listen. “How did things go?” Even though I had comfort in Mags, it was Jane that I desired so strongly.

“I lost an important client today,” I revealed to her in an automatic, gruff tone. “So no, not so good, Mags.” She smiled at me, and I returned the gesture with a smirk.

“I can already tell that you feel responsible,” she insisted, her brows moving upward. “Redwood told me the juicy details about your dance lessons.”

“That’s what they were, Mags.”

“The only dancing you do is dirty,” she threw her head back in a howl. “You can’t tell me that you didn’t try and kiss that beautiful, beautiful girl.” Her eyes went up to their upper corners briefly, “kind of reminds me of myself, when I was younger. Back when I was still a wild cat on the prowl,” I believe the term is cougar. Not that she was ugly, but I still had to repress the need to shudder. It wasn’t easy for me to see her like that, given how I grew up around her so much. “I’m sure she’s full of dreams and ambitions,” Mags face grew somber then, “the only one I’m holding on to is retiring in the Caribbean. Maybe when Peter--” she couldn’t bring herself to finish her sentence. “Well… you know. Wishful thoughts.”

Moving further down the corridor, I stopped to stand at Mag’s side. “Go home, Mags,” I instructed, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder and squeezing. “I’ll let you off with full pay for the rest of the night.”

Her face became a mask of concern. “Are you okay?” Her voice was sincere as always. “You know I don’t mind staying,” she continued, “I’m capable of being quiet. Despite what Redwood would hem and haw over.”

“I know. But I’ve a need to be alone,” I offered her another smile. “Besides, Peter needs you by his side, I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t let you go and see him.” Her husband was undergoing intense rounds of Chemotherapy; I was of course paying for it out of my own pocket. Family was, at the end of the day, family.

“Thank you, Michael,” she said, giving me a polite bow. She used to do it mockingly for my father; I remember her taking the fall for me when I knocked over one of the family’s portraits in a tantrum when I was missing my mother. She gave him that very same motion, and a wink towards me.

Magdalene took her leave for the night, and I made my way to the guest room where I kept my private key. It helped keep me somewhat distant from the painful memories by keeping it out of sight and reach. Opening the amaretto colored door, I stepped inside to the mostly empty room; save for the bed, windows and glass door that leads out to the terrace. I strolled over to the nightstand beside the bed, picked up the smooth, black vase and tilted it so that I could reach the small key tucked away inside.

Retracing my steps, I made my way back to the red door, placed the key within the lock and descended.

The room was intimately familiar to me. Like a chamber from my mind palace come to life. Her favorite shade of yellow on the walls; all the notes that we’d written on her desk that she kept at a slight angle. I spent a good long while down there, turning over old photos and papers and various mementos. I knew that one day I’d have to be rid of them, or most of them at least; but every once in a while this was the place where I could clear my mind the most.

Yet the thought of Jane tormented me mercilessly.

Finding no solace in the place after some time, I returned up the stairs and paced through the lonely halls, where once both love and life seemed to flourish.

From the front side of the manor, the bell went off three times rapidly.

Instantly I knew who was already at the door, and it wasn’t the person that I had been hoping it would be.

Moving through at a hurried, annoyed pace, I opened the door to reveal my father. The lines of his face were drawn in a tight, pitying scowl. “You look like hell,” he announced, his hands pushed into his coat pockets. “Rebbecca told me about this girl that you’re investing in.” His terms were more clinical and business like than even mine.

Jane was more than just a transaction.

Surely.

“Yeah, well things aren’t going so great with that,” I clipped. “Did you come all this way just to spite me, because that’s what it’s starting to feel like.”

He narrowed his eagle-like eyes at me. “If you don’t start taking your duties seriously--”

I put my hands on either side of the door’s frame. “I am. Do you think I’ve just been sitting here with my thumb up my ass? Every time I tell Tim that he needs to do one thing, you go around my back and tell them something else.”

The vein in the side of his forehead was pulsing out. “I’ve laid Rebbecca off, Michael. She wasn’t doing her job,” handling me, feeding him every detail of my life is what he meant.

My heart dropped from my chest, and the inherent need to hit something pounded away at the back of my skull. “You fired her?” I ejaculated, “do you know how badly she needs this? Do you even have any idea?” No, you wouldn’t. You never think about anyone but you.

I hated the idea of becoming like that.

“Don’t give a shit,” he spat back, “you’re ruining the legacy that I’ve built for your mother. For you. If you don’t turn this ship around, don’t think that I won’t disown you.” The words shivved at me in violent stabs, and sickness started to work through me.

I moved to get into his face, not backing down an inch, barely aware of how loud my voice was starting to boom. “If you can’t respect me for who I’m trying to be,” I could feel the nails of my fingers biting into my palm’s flesh as I balled my fist. “Don’t come looking for me when you suddenly want a son.”

I slammed the door on his face and locked it shut, hurrying up the foyer steps and striding through the empty halls, getting ready to lose my sense of reason.

My father would never see eye to eye with me.