Naturally, Archie was at the office before Evan.

The first day Evan had come to work, he’d chided himself for feeling like he was walking to the guillotine. But today, following Archie out of the office to a conference room, matching the older man’s slow, purposeful step, that image of being led to execution was even more clear.

This whole scheme of his, it’s just to bring you back into the flock, Ash had said. But it felt like he was being led to the slaughter.

The conference room was still dark, on the west side of the building so no morning light could get in. Evan set up his laptop, and Archie took a nearby seat.

“Let’s have it,” his uncle said.

Evan cleared his throat. He’d practiced this since the moment he woke up. “The Records Department is an essential part of Cray Reliable Electrics,” he said. “In many ways, it is the memory of the company, which—”

“Skip the preamble,” said Archie. “I want to see how you’re going to save us money.”

“Good, okay, yeah, straight to the point. Here’s the pitch: Let’s digitize those records and save all the money we’re spending now on storage. I’ve been talking to several companies about how much it would take to move all that data into the cloud, so we’d have instant access—”

Uncle Archie raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. A lot of work up-front, but you’re going to see big savings when—”

“Really, Evan?” Archie rose from his chair. “This is your big idea? This is what you’re presenting to the board?”

Evan suddenly felt very cold. He reached out for the laptop. “I mean, I can show you the slides, I’ve got all the figures…”

“Your entire future is at stake, and your big contribution to this company is to remind us that computers exist?”

There had been times in Evan’s life where he’d been tooling along, thinking he had the world on a string, only to find he’d badly, badly misunderstood the situation.

Crashing into the seaplane had been like that. The water had a rough chop that day, and it wasn’t until the last moment that he realized he’d been over-confident.

That’s what this felt like. It wasn’t like falling, it was that moment right before falling, when you realize something’s wrong, and you’re about to tumble down.

He steadied himself against the desk.

“I guess I don’t understand,” he said, his voice shaking. He hated that sound. Hated feeling like he’d missed something. “I mean, I think it would save a lot of money.”

Archie sighed and shook his head. His hands were in his pockets as he walked to the dark window. “Of course it would,” he said. “Surely it would, except that we don’t need all that. Endless scribbled notes and memos and scraps of paper. We could even more cheaply set it all on fire. At least then we’d get some heat out of it. Otherwise, what good is it? Just sitting down there in the subbasement, decaying away.”

“But my dad thought—”

“What Leonard thought is not important right now,” said Archie. “He was never, to put it kindly, a businessman. He was a hoarder. You know what his house was like, towards the end.”

That part was true. The big old Victorian his dad had spent his final days in, was almost uninhabitable. Books and boxes and gadgets, soldering irons and diagrams and circuit boards…the whole place had been a fire hazard. It was still untouched, all this time after his father’s death. He had not yet had the heart to have it cleaned out.

“Then what did you want me to come up with?” he said, weakly. “My dad wanted the department. He thought it was important. I thought you wanted me to bring it into the present.”

“I certainly thought you would bring some fresh vision to it,” said Archie. “Instead, we get this. What have you been doing down there all this time? Is this Simon distracting you?”

Was that a probe? Was he trying to find out the real story between Evan and Simon?

“Of course he isn’t,” said Evan. “Distracting me? You sent me down to work with him. He knows everything about those files, and he’s doing a good job teaching me.”

“I see,” murmured Archie. He looked down at the shadowy town. “Your cousin Ash has had a good deal to say about this Simon. A good deal to say. Several stories about him.”

Evan didn’t say a word.

“I had to wonder,” continued Archie, “seeing this weak presentation, whether sending you down there was a good idea, in light of his predilections for the Cray men. I thought perhaps it had caused an interruption in your learning.”

“Predilections? Dude, I’m really not sure what you’re implying.”

Archie turned, put both his hands on the table and leaned forward, staring Evan right in the eye. “Really? That’s the answer you’re going with? Evan, do you think we don’t know? Do you think you two haven’t been seen?”

“Hold on now, wait, what do you mean—”

“I mean seen.” Archie stood up straight, and glared. “We are all so disappointed in you. When I brought you here, it was to straighten you up, not to… Not to have you be the easy prey of the same young man who also preyed on your father.”

“That’s bullshit, Archie. You know that. It’s ridiculous, something Ash made up to piss me off. Dad and Simon would never have—”

Uncle Archie waved the objection away. “Nevertheless, I sent you to take an interest in the company. I gave you full access to its history and stored knowledge, and you can’t even come up with a modestly interesting proposal. Here, I’ll tell you the obvious proposal, the one that would have immediately gained you the regard of the board: You should have suggested we cut Simon, and save on payroll and benefits.”

“Fire Simon?” It was all Evan could do to keep himself under control. He had to keep reminding himself, Archie had a tremendous amount of power. He couldn’t just punch his uncle in the throat.

“It was clearly why you were there, my boy. Surely you see my logic: You would go down there, quickly become bored, see the department as a waste of time and resources, and in the process, suggest we eliminate it all, so that you could move on to something exciting. I never expected you to like…folders, and files, and memoranda. But you have failed. I’m glad I came to you before you presented this nonsense. Although now I suppose I will have to fire Simon myself, rather than letting it be your idea.”

“No, you can’t!”

“Calm yourself, boy. He is a distraction. He’s keeping you from becoming a part of this company.”

“No, seriously, you can’t fire him, he has served Dad all these years—”

“Just so.”

“—and you can’t repay him by firing him!”

Archie gazed levelly at Evan, letting the silence deepen, until all Evan could hear was his own heavy breathing.

Finally, his uncle spoke. “But you certainly agree that you cannot be with him.”

Ah. There it was. The whole reason for this meeting: Evan was caught.

He could save Simon’s job, as long as he broke up with him. But if he stayed with Simon, they’d both lose their jobs, and Evan would lose his trust…and the ability to help Reg. All the things he had suspected that Archie had planned, out in the open.

“You’re serious,” he said.

“I am always serious,” said Archie. “The presentation is still on. The board will make its decision based on what you present. Much rests on you. You have my advice.”

* * *

It’s funny—except not at all funny—when your worst fears are realized, and it’s exactly as bad as you thought.

He didn’t go back to the office. He left work, left the building, and turned his ringer off. He couldn’t face Simon right now, not after that horror in the conference room.

This is why you can’t have a boyfriend, part of his mind kept saying, over and over. You should have punched Archie, but you didn’t. You should have stopped this scheme when he first brought it up.

No, that wasn’t true, was it. No. You should have led a normal, down-to-earth life to begin with, instead of hiding behind parties and cruises, so that Archie never would have gotten it into his head to mess with your life.

His dad would have never done it. Leonard Cray was a lot of things, but manipulative wasn’t one of them. He was always upfront. If he hadn’t liked Simon, he would have mentioned it the moment they met.

How could two brothers turn out so differently?

He walked for a while. There weren’t nice boulevards and parks down here, the way there were in the city, but he didn’t care, he wasn’t looking at anything anyway. He was too deep in thought to look. He felt his pocket buzz a few times with calls, but he ignored them.

I’ll quit. I’ll tell Archie to shove the trust fund up his ass, and I’ll quit.

But what would that solve? He’d be penniless, he’d be asking his dumb friends for a job, they’d all laugh, and what guarantee was there that Archie would then keep Simon on? And what would become of Reg and Maura?

Well, I can’t break up with Simon!

His phone buzzed again. He didn’t have to look at it, to know who it was. He could picture Simon, there on the office phone, the worried look on his face as he tried to find Evan.

He couldn’t talk to him, not right now. If he went to him now, he’d end up kissing him, getting distracted (there was that word again) and that would make it that much harder to…break up with him.

Oh god, I can’t believe I’m considering doing it. I can’t believe I’m standing here thinking about breaking up with him for his own good!

Simon would never understand it. He’d think it was through some fault of his own. He’d think he deserved it somehow, even though he didn’t, even though he was the greatest guy Evan had ever met. Because how do you explain something like that? I have to leave you because my uncle said so.

What other solution was there? Why couldn’t he think? It was just like Archie said, he was missing everything, he didn’t understand what to do. I must be the stupidest sap in the world. Surely there’s an answer. Surely there’s a solution.

The one thing he knew for sure was that he hated Archie. He’d always disliked him. Had little respect for his puffed-up superiority, and the way that attitude had passed down to his sons.

Now he hated him. The rage was a fire that burned bright and deep.

When he passed a bar, he stopped and turned around. A drink might calm things down. Might clear his head, so he could think.

So he could figure out what on earth to say to Simon.