Chapter 2-Ezra
Leave no stone unturned.
One glance at me has the man waiting for the elevator taking three, self-preserving steps backwards before I storm past him. You’d think I had a scythe in hand the way employees at Power Play Investments are jumping out of my way this Monday morning.
The lone exception to all the diving for cover is my assistant, Celeste, but only because she has no choice but to meet my scowl head on.
“Anything from Golden Gate yet?”
“Yes, Mr. Sokolov. They sent the demonstration they’ve been promising for the-”
“I don’t mean the interactive toys. I meant the assignment I gave you yesterday,” I clip.
“I emailed and called but they say they can’t find any information regarding-”
“Bullshit. They had everything but a retinal scanner at the entrance. She wasn’t a mirage.”
“No, of course not, sir,” Celeste says, taking her own self-preserving step backwards.
I huff out a slow breath. Being an intimidating motherfucker might pay off in the boardroom or on the ice but not with my assistant. She’s still new but better than the last two. And, I’d prefer not to go through the hassle of training yet another one so soon. “Loop me in on your correspondence. We can also explore alternatives.”
Money talks and someone, somewhere who had access to the masquerade ball’s guest list or remembers something useful will give me what I want - the woman in the hummingbird mask’s name. A hummingbird, how fucking ironic.
What I’d really like to know though is why I’m so obsessed with finding her again to the extent that I was calling my assistant on a Sunday morning to start snooping around.
No sooner than I’d entered the crowded venue Saturday night, I’d sought my escape on the roof. It’s embarrassing for a man like me to be rattled by crowds but I can’t regret the very lovely distraction I met on the way back down, a lady who’d had me eager for once to rejoin a party rather than avoid it.
That green silk dress complimented her deep brown skin and highlighted her knock-me-out curves. The way her eyes glowed and sparked behind that little bird mask in the stairwell with her ebony hair’s blow-out framing it as we snipped and teased about children’s books, bare feet and Dud. Enchanting. The plum color of her lipstick had been an exact match to the polish on her toes while her alluring scent, like a fresh orange blossom, had me salivating.
I enjoyed tormenting her pathetic date but, more than that, she felt so right in my arms as we danced, a rare feeling I still can’t explain. To be so easily taken in by a woman’s charms, that’s my brother’s weakness. Which is why I didn’t immediately follow her outside when she bolted. I don’t chase women but I’m regretting my restraint now.
It wouldn’t make sense for Golden Gate to intentionally block my efforts to find her considering the billion-dollar project we’ve been working on together the past year, would it?
“By the way, your father is waiting in your office, sir,” Celeste informs me as I move past her. She’s cringing – the messenger fearing for her life – so I ignore the urge to growl at her for letting him inside when I wasn’t here. He’s a difficult man to say no to. Christ, I don’t want another fight with Dad today.
He’s seated behind my desk when I enter, using the phone. He waves me in… into my own goddamn office. I’ve worked my ass off to build this company from scratch but he acts as though it was a foregone conclusion that I would succeed, no matter the field. Well, he wasn’t wrong there though there are many talented people under me who helped make it happen.
“Ezra, you are late,” he barks as he ends the call.
“I wasn’t aware we had a meeting scheduled. And, as this is my company, I believe I may set my own schedule for arriving.” I’m here until midnight plenty of nights as it is.
He laughs as if I’ve told a joke before rising to walk over to me, dressed in his customary hockey jersey. He owns over fifty and wears them everywhere. But, while Levi Sokolov is not what anyone would label a sharp dresser, he is still a strongly-built man even after passing sixty last year.
He grasps the back of my neck with one meaty hand, bringing our faces close, and gives me that familiar playful jab in the ribs with the other. It’s his notion of displaying deep affection between father and son. He has always done his best with us. But, I never know what words will pass his lips when he does this. It could be praise, advice or a lecture. I tense, not wanting any of those this morning.
“As fit as ever, Ezra. You are no spoiled, rich man in a fancy suit sitting behind a desk at heart, are you? Did you do the stretches today before you worked out?”
“I always do but it won’t change things.” No amount of stretching will give me hockey back, not at the level I played. I’ve made my peace with it these past three years. I wish he could.
He lets go of me, shaking his head in disappointment. “You are still young.”
“I’m thirty, Dad. Even if I could go back, how long do you think-”
“Bah, with enough effort…”
With enough effort, you can do anything you set your mind to.
That has always been his motto and the one he instilled in his sons from a tender age. Be better, be the best. Never let them see you cry. Never mind the pain. I absorbed it, sucked it straight into my marrow as a kid. Pushing myself, punishing myself, training day and night. I felt like I spent more time in skates than out of them.
Until one day, it was taken from me and, for the second time, I learned the hardest lesson life can teach us – some things are simply but irrevocably beyond our control or efforts.
So, I found success somewhere else.
“Don’t worry yourself with my stretches. I’m getting by with this little start-up business of mine.” He chuckles at that. Getting by is putting it extremely mildly. “What brings you here today?” He has a courtesy position on the team’s board of directors because he’s my father but he has no professional ties to my investment firm.
“Did you see the news this morning?”
I nod, sharply. While I was busy being left at the ball by Cinderella Saturday night, my kid brother was busy stepping in it again. A fight with one of his team’s trainers at a Boston bar which turned into an all-out brawl. And every patron there had phones to record it. “I don’t know the details.”
“Chase says the man insulted him.”
Perhaps but Chase likes to drink and likes getting his knuckles bloody… and the trainer has a pretty wife.
Growing up, things were competitive between us. As the elder, I knew it wasn’t fair for Chase to constantly be held up to me. But, there were times I would seek the warmth of my father’s approval and forget. My success since leaving hockey hasn’t helped matters in our relationship. Lately, it seems Chase has been on a path of self-destruction. I don’t know how to save him but it’s my duty to try.
“I blame myself,” my father says, guiltily. “When your mother left, I tried but he is too much like me, a Sokolov, full of spirits and temper. He means no harm.” I know the old man is trying to convince himself as much as me. “He’s worried, Ezra. He says his contract has a negative news clause and there are rumblings.”
“They won’t let him go over one fight.”
“We both know it’s been far more than one. If they do, he is your brother.”
“My team is brand new. I intend to build a solid reputation in the league and giving my younger brother a position on the team would…”
“Would show that we are a family-oriented team and business. The fans and media love that sort of thing. He could learn more than hockey from you. And, when it is time to put his skates away, you could bring him on board. You could give him a purpose. Think of our family’s legacy.”
“What would you call the success I’ve had off the ice? What would you call this company I founded? The team I’m putting together? The arena I’m building?”
“That is your success but what is left for Chase? He is not the player you once were, Ezra.”
He runs my brother down and reminds me of what I’m not anymore with a handful of words and has no idea how he wounds either of us. The fight seeps out of me. I have other things I’d rather do this morning.
“He’s your blood, as I am. We draw our strength from each other.”
The three of us, that was all we had after she left. That and hockey.
“Alright, Dad, but he’s not off his current team yet. It would help his image to get involved in something worthwhile and stop drinking so much. I won’t take him on in any position if he’s only going to continue as he has been.”
My father nods and leaves, having made the first of what I suspect will be numerous pleas until they both wear me down.
Sighing, I sit at my desk. Unrest and dissatisfaction with the day courses through me like an overturned ant hill and I can’t focus. I need to be out doing something.
Well, you’re the boss here. What do you want to do?
I know what I want to do, or rather who I want to find.
My mind spins back to Saturday night and my lovely distraction. Who was she? Why did she leave so quickly? I’m determined to find out. With enough effort, you can do anything you set your mind to, right?
“Celeste,” I say through the speaker. “I’m going over to Golden Gate for a meeting. I’ll be back after lunch.”
“I apologize, sir. I didn’t have it noted on my calendar.”
That’s because I just invented it.I can’t blame Celeste for being floored though. I never do anything that’s not on my calendar anymore. And, where’s the fun in that?
“No worries. It came up suddenly.”
As suddenly as a certain little hummingbird flitted in and out of my company.