Chapter 18 #2
He closed out of his conversation with Nate, noting the clock now said 2:51.
He needed to go to bed, he needed to stop thinking about this.
But sleep was hard to come by, even as Connor closed his laptop and made his way to his childhood bedroom, curled up under the sheets that smelled like nostalgic memories.
He didn’t lay there for long before he was reaching for his phone again, but Connor didn’t swipe to Nate’s contact information.
Instead, he pulled up Junie’s and gave her a call.
He half expected his call to go straight to her voicemail, hitting him with her chipper, Hola! It’s Junie! Leave it if you’re worth it! answering machine greeting.
Instead, she picked up on the second ring.
“Connor?”
She sounded sleepy, which he supposed was a good sign–meant she was probably getting ready for bed, and not staying up to finish some work for Thornton.
He would have hated to know she was being punished for his indiscretion.
“Hey Junie. I’m in Ohio.”
“You’re–you’re in Ohio?” Now she was wide awake, her voice rising sharply. “What, like, don’t tell me for good–”
“No, not for good. Just for a few days,” Connor cut in, before adding, “You know, like Thornton suggested.”
“Oh,” Junie said, letting out a whoosh of air that sounded as static over the phone. “How–how are you?”
“I don’t know,” Connor admitted, before adding, “I’m okay. I guess. Haven’t heard anything from him or Alarie yet.”
He genuinely didn’t know if he should expect to be told that he was fired, or if it was something he was meant to find out when he returned to the office.
Whenever that was.
“I'm sorry I haven’t called. It’s been…” Junie let out another breath that sounded like static.
“It’s okay,” Connor cut in, sitting up in bed, leaning back against the plaster wall. The window to his bedroom was still open and if he tried, he was sure he could hear the sound of waves crashing against the shore.
Even after all this time, trafficsounds never quite seemed to filter up to his bedroom, not like Lake Erie did.
“No, it’s not. I’ve been–I dunno, I was so swept up with Elle and–and trying to keep my own little house of cards from tumbling down, I’ve been a terrible friend to you.”
“That’s not true, Junie. You’ve been–”
“No! I should have–I should have known something was going on. I mean, I did. I knew, but you seemed happy and–I mean, I knew Devore was a creep but if I knew he was coercing you–”
“He wasn’t–”
“No, he was! He was, because–because he could have fired you at any time. And you used to tell me how much you wanted to leave and that you couldn’t and I never thought–if I’d known–”
“There isn’t anything you could have done.”
Junie made a frustrated sound over the phone.
“I should have known. I thought it was cute, when you were with… with Dawson and… and how he’d been your supervisor.”
Connor closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the plaster wall.
“I wouldn’t have admitted it.”
“Connor, why do you do this?”
Connor was quiet, watching clouds drift across the night sky.
“I guess some part of me feels like, if I can’t get myself in some position of power, then that’s the next best thing. With Dawson–I mean, I guess it felt like a way to spite my dad. And with Devore, it felt like he was preparing me for greatness.”
Connor swallowed around the lump in his throat.
“With Nate–” He tried to pretend his voice didn’t crack, saying his name, “He was different. He felt more like… like my equal.”
“But he wasn’t,” Junie said softly. “He had so much more power over you.”
Connor considered that.
“Maybe. But not as much as Berkshire has over him.”
Junie was quiet on the other line. Actually, she was quiet for nearly an entire minute, prompting Connor to ask, “What?”
“It’s–you’re not wrong, that’s all.”
The way she said that gave Connor pause, frowning as he paced back across his parents yard. A crow cawed overhead, landing on the fence post at the edge of the yard.
“What, did something happen?”
“Connor–”
“Junie.” If anyone knew anything about the inner machinations of Alarie, it was Junie. Her department was literally Internal Corporate Communications.
“I don’t know, I’m on your side, not his,” Junie said cooly. “It wasn’t anything I said, I can tell you that.”
Connor considered her words for a moment, something prickling at the back of his neck.
“Thornton?” Connor asked. Junie made a sound on the other end that sounded like a laugh.
“Nope, not Ellie. But I think she was planning on putting in an anonymous report about Berkshire hiring his son and bypassing our hiring standards.” She was quiet on the other end for a moment before adding, “I think they’re going to fire Santos, though.
I’ve got this email I’m sending out Friday, about the IR department transitioning to something new. ”
“Why would they fire him?” Connor asked, like he couldn’t think of a reason himself.
Had he crashed and burned while Connor was out? Finally missed a meeting that was too critical, too important? Or had he flubbed a presentation? Did his inexperience finally catch up with him?
He could hear Junie typing over the phone, the click of a mouse. She must have pulled out her computer, he realized with a pang of guilt. Here he was, waking Junie up right when she was trying to sleep, putting her right back in the middle of work.
She had that same disease Connor suffered from–an affliction that caused her to bring her work to bed, too.
“Yeah, said right here. Suspended pending ethics review.”
“Ethics review?” Connor repeated. “That’s the same line they gave about Devore.”
“I wonder if he was doing insider trading or something, under the Berkshire’s instruction,” Junie mused, and then laughed coldly.
“Look, Ellie acts like he’s some kind of supervillain, but I guess that’s not totally off the mark for him.
To hear her tell it, Bekshire has been pulling some chicanery with travel expenses for a while now. Bet he’s got his son in on it, too.”
Junie let out a sigh over the phone.
“God, Connor. You’ve really had a crappy run of luck with your execs. I mean, Elle drives me crazy, but–but she’s Elle. She’s my devil and I’m Anne Hathaway and–and I know she’d never scapegoat me the way Santos did to you.”
Connor walked back towards his parents porch, sitting down on one of the steps as he bit the inside of his cheek.
“But Na–Santos didn’t–” Connor pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead, trying to remember.
Berkshire had already been pissed when he walked in, and then–and then there was the expenditure forms he’d been pushing and–
And he’d wanted Connor out of the room.
No witnesses, of course. Only Nate to try to defend himself against what was being asked of him, but when he came back–
He let his hand fall to his thigh, opening his eyes.
Walking back in, seeing his proposal–his proposal– being projected, his laptop opened while Berkshire pawed through it, Nate’s expression, the man wanting to melt into the ground–
But he knew now, just as he did then–that couldn’t have been a mistake. His laptop didn't accidentally open, the document wasn’t something that would have just projected itself on screen.
Which meant Nate had handed it to Berkshire. On a silver platter, Nate had taken his hopes, his aspirations, and he’d fed them to his father.
For what, to save himself?
It hadn’t worked. Clearly, Berkshire had no trouble sacrificing his son, throwing him to the sharks when he couldn’t wring enough value from him.
“I don’t think he was scapegoating me. Maybe he was just using me to try to save his own job. Using my work.”
“Hm. Maybe.” He could hear more clicking and typing over the phone. “I’ve got some good news for you, though. Looks like you’re not getting fired. But you're currently sitting unassigned.”
That had Connor freezing.
“What?”
“Yeah. I'm seeing a listing here for everyone of us. Liam, me, Benji, Mia, just not you."
"But my name's still there."
"Yup. Could be that you go to Ronaldo, though. Liam might be getting the promotion he's been wanting."
He took a beat to consider that.
“So, I’m not getting fired.”
“Yeah. I mean, you might have to speak at the investigation about what Santos was doing before they fire him, but I can't see them reassigning you and then letting you go, you know?”
Connor was quiet for a long time.
So he was staying. He wasn’t getting fired. He wasn’t being implicated in the investigation against Santos.
Which meant–
Santos was protecting him.
Nate was protecting him.
Realization hit him like a lead anchor in the pit of his stomach.
He wanted to call Nate.
“Junie, I have to call you back,” Connor said, hanging up before she could respond.
He unblocked Nate in his phone, hovering over his number for a moment.
It was the middle of the night. Nate would probably be in bed–Connor could picture him reading some book on his tablet, Mano
The line rang several times before Nate picked up, but Connor was speaking before he could even get out a hello.
“You got suspended,” he said, before mentally kicking himself.
“Hey to you, too,” Nate said hollowly.
“Why the hell did they suspend you?” Connor asked.
“How’s your brother?” Nate asked, dodging the question. Connor scowled over the phone.
“I don’t have one.”
“Figures.” He sounded utterly unsurprised.
“Why did they suspend you?” Connor asked again.
“How'd you find out about that?” Nate asked, once again not giving Connor an answer.
“Junie.”
He could practically hear Nate rolling his eyes over the phone.
“Right. Your girlfriend who isn’t your girlfriend,” he said flatly. And that crossed a line for Connor.
How dare Nate–after everything he had done, after handing Connor’s work right over to his father, after he had been told what Junie meant to him–think he could ever pull that card.
“Nathan.” Connor gritted his teeth.
“My name isn’t Nathan, either. Someone made an anonymous report about the agreements and contracts my dad was pushing through.”
“If you’re making an accusation, I can tell you right now-”