Monday mornings are never my favorite day of the week at work. I don’t think anyone wakes up on a Monday ready to start the week with enthusiasm. Well, I take that back.
My dad had this nurse from hospice who came once a week to check on him, coincidently on Mondays, and I’ve never in my entire twenty-three years seen someone with more enthusiasm to be alive on a Monday. Maybe it was because of her line of work, or maybe she was just a happy woman. Come to think of it, her name was Joy. I shit you not. It was fucking Joy.
Anyways, Joy used to pop off with all kinds of happy lines when she’d come over and see my dad. I usually never listened to her because hello, my dad was dying. I didn’t find humor in anything during that time of my life. I do remember the line, “Cherish the good things in life as they’re blessings from angels.”
Joy may have been full of shit, but every Monday, that freaking line hits me when I wake up.
Cherish the good things in life as they’re blessings from angels.
My Monday begins with an offsite meeting, only I volunteered to stay at the office, as did Zane. Hello, wouldn’t you? Boss and every demanding asshole who works under him are out of the office, yep. Sign me up for phone duty.
Naturally, Zane and I get nothing done. We’re sitting at my desk looking through the latest issue of Brides, which Elliott Warren is on the cover of.
The photograph is of him, wearing all black again, with his head bowed looking down at his camera that’s carried in his palm, the other hand in the pocket of his black slacks.
If you didn’t know it, you wouldn’t think that Tathan and Elliott are the same person. The only distinguishing features that really gives it away are his eyes and the beard. Maybe that’s why whenever he’s photographed, his eyes are either hidden, or his head is bowed.
Sighing contently, Zane stares at Tathan’s photo. “He’s such a beautiful man.”
“I know you know everything so what’s really the deal with Tathan anyway?” I flick Tathan’s picture on the cover.
“He’s the most talented wedding photographer the industry has ever seen,” Zane muses. “He makes more in a month than most see in a year, and when his trust fund kicks in at thirty. . . let’s just say, he wouldn’t need to take photographs for a living.”
“So, he’s a manwhore, a very rich manwhore.” I knew that already. I’ve named the sluts in his bucket.
“I wouldn’t say that exactly,” Zane says, flipping through the magazine, staring at his picture again. “That’s your perception of him, but I don’t think it’s honestly the truth.”
Zane’s right. He’s absolutely right. I have this idea of what Tathan is like, but from what I’ve seen, it’s nowhere near accurate, and that frustrates me.
Zane continues to stare at his picture in the magazine like a fourteen-year-old girl stalking her latest crush.
“Where’d all the money come from and why does he go by Elliott Warren.” I know what Tathan told me, but I can’t help wondering if Zane knows anything else.
His brow furrows for a second, and then he looks back at the magazine. “Ever heard of Warren-Madsen Engineering?”
“Who hasn’t? They’re the largest engineering company in the Southwest. We’re partnered with them on a lot of jobs.”
He looks at me like I’m a complete idiot, which I am because I hadn’t figured this out sooner. “Well, there you have it.” He nods, as if I should automatically understand.
“Wait.” It finally dawns on me. “You mean to tell me he owns Warren-Madsen Engineering as well?” I ask, confused. “Why is he a photographer then?”
I haven’t been this confused since the first time I saw a penis. It looked nothing like what I expected. And then it grew and was all veiny looking. Not something a girl wants to see as a teenager.
“No, he doesn’t own it. Well, actually he does, but he’s partners with his brothers.”
“So how do they own the company?”
Zane groans and closes the magazine. “How do you not know this? And when he started here in January, how did you not know he was also Elliott Warren the photographer?” he asks, surprised I don’t know the story behind this. I guess I didn’t think there was a story behind him. Just a manwhore with a gorgeous body and a cool car.
“I’m not a gossip queen like you,” I point out. “I actually do my job.” Zane knows everything about everyone in the city. “And Casey didn’t know either.”
“Oh, please.” He waves his arm in front of me. “I’m just perceptive and I’ve worked here for two years.” He pushes the magazine aside finally. “All right, so Warren-Madsen Engineering was owned by Tathan’s birth parents, Jason Madsen and Keri Warren. They started the company right out of college and married a few years later. About twelve years ago they were shot to death during a car-jacking on Indian School Road. Being their godparents, Paul and Deanna adopted them after the accident.”
It takes me an entire minute to process what he said. Thousands, okay, not thousands, but so many emotions run through me it’s hard to process any of them let alone words. Finally, when I do speak, my words are crackly as I hold back tears. “Dude, really? That’s like Batman. . . or that movie Ghost?”
Zane rolls his eyes. “No, it’s not. Shut up and listen.” He pauses and pulls up the article on Google and points to it. I start reading it as he continues. “After they died, they left everything to Tathan and his older brothers. James took over running the day-to-day operations of the firm, but when Tathan was old enough to work, he decided to continue with his passion, photography. Rumor has it that they have trust funds set up that mature when they turn thirty. That’s how James bought the restaurant.”
“What does Kelly do?”
Zane rolled his eyes. “He’s supposed to run Warren-Madsen Engineering, but Paul does mostly, which was why you hadn’t met him until a week ago. He’s a busy man.”
“How old is Tathan?”
“He turns twenty-six in August. Kelly is twenty-nine and James is thirty-three.”
I’m impressed with how much Zane knows.
“If you knew Tathan was Elliott Warren, how come you didn’t tell me before?”
“It really wasn’t my place to say. He likes to keep his cover.” He shrugs. “Everyone around here knows. Why do you think these sluts around here are so obsessed with him? He’s famous.”
“But Casey didn’t know either.”
“She doesn’t pay attention to that sort of thing.”
He’s right. She doesn’t. For the last year, she didn’t know Bryan had brought home a cat. She thought she’d been feeding a stray all this time.
I turn my attention to the article, and I don’t realize I’m crying until Zane hands me a tissue. The article is so detailed on Jason and Keri’s endless love for one another. They met when they were eight years old for crying out loud. Eight! Goddamn you, Joy. Where’s the blessing in their happiness coming to a bloody end?
The article describes a fairy-tale love that you wouldn’t think even existed, ever and it’s no wonder Tathan is the way he is.
Just when you think someone’s life is perfect, you see it’s not.
The guy who makes me insane at work now has a tragic story. I feel so bad for Tathan. I want to comfort him, which scares me because I had a plan. The plan went to shit. I need a plan that doesn’t include having sympathy for a guy like Tathan Madsen, and I’m not sure a plan like that exists anymore.