Chapter 70
The early morning hour fucked with my head, as I had not gotten to sleep until about midnight the night before.
Too much tension and adrenaline coursing through me had it all but impossible for me to fall asleep.
Layla had tried to coax me into having sex, telling me that doing so would relieve things, but when she started kissing me and I could not think of anything other than Andrew’s recording and my meeting this morning, I gently pushed off her, telling her it wouldn’t be right to have that kind of sex.
Groggily, I kicked off the sheets of the bed, nearly kicking Layla in the process.
I found my jeans and the nearest thick clothing I could find, which included a t-shirt and a hoodie—a far cry from the professional clothes the person across from me would probably have, but I was well past the point of caring how I looked.
If anything, the hood over my head gave me some measure of anonymity.
Well, until Edwin’s spies see you and then they know what to look for.
Goddamn, really wish I didn’t have to think of that this early.
Without grabbing a bite to eat and only a quick gulp of water, I made my way down the elevator, out the door, and to the left where my Mom had delivered the news that had given me the opportunity to do what I was doing.
Let’s just hope this goes even half as well as it did with Mom. That would qualify as a victory.
Above me, the sky was slowly beginning to drop hints that the sun would be rising soon with the brightening blue, the gradual pickup of pedestrian traffic, and the increase of honking.
I’d say birds, but no one could hear nature in New York City.
It was a point that made me think a little bit about Layla’s request from the night before, to leave this city when the time came for us to be a thing.
First things first, though. Coffee, meeting, Edwin fallout, get with Layla, get with Layla for a while, and then maybe leave a city.
About the only one of those that felt guaranteed was the coffee.
I walked into Joe’s Latte, the place where my mother had originally planned before switching up.
I thought of doing the same with my impending guest, but if I was being trailed, there was no reason for that.
I hadn’t noticed anyone doing so this morning, but that only told me Edwin’s people weren’t being so obvious anymore.
I got my dark coffee, without sugar or anything else, and sat down at a corner booth, slowly sipping on the piping hot drink, allowing it to slowly bring my senses to life.
I’d gotten halfway through when my requested guest showed up, sure enough, wearing a suit and tie, a nice black coat, black slacks, and shoes that probably had a higher cost than everything on my body combined.
“Surprised you still showed,” I grumbled.
“Why?” my brother, Morgan, said. “I’m still your brother.”
“Yeah, but are you still on my side?”
Morgan grimaced, giving me a direct look of pain, but did not say a word in response to that.
“We should go somewhere else,” Morgan said.
“This shit again?”
“Edwin really has it out for you, Chance,” he said. “I know a place they don’t.”
I grumbled something about how Edwin has it out for everyone, but I made it a point to finish my coffee as quickly as I could before more or less pounding the mug on the table.
I followed Morgan out, putting my hood over my head and keeping my head bowed, focusing only on Morgan’s fancy dress shoes.
Wouldn’t you know it, Morgan took me to the same goddamn 70’s coffee shop that my mother had.
“Did Mom tell you to take me here?” I said.
“Mom has a few ideas,” Morgan said, drawing the faintest of smiles.
It wasn’t a perfect match, as Morgan and I sat in a different booth than where Mom and I had sat, but the parallels were close enough to unsettle me just a bit.
“So, you wanted to see me?” Morgan asked.
I pulled out my phone, set the volume low, and opened my email app.
“I don’t know why you went back to your father in the first place,” I said. “But you need to know what kinds of things he’s saying to your clients.”
I then played the clip from Andrew in all of its glory, admittedly relishing in the cathartic feelings that came from seeing the shocked expressions on Morgan’s face.
What was of particular interest, though, was how after the first thirty seconds or so, he did not seem that surprised about anything.
It was as if my smoking gun was nothing more than a Nerf one that had caught fire.
“Jesus,” Morgan said.
“So,” I said. “You want to work for a guy like him? Be my guest. But there’s a whole avalanche of bad press coming his way, Morgan, not the least of which has to do with the divorce.
Bad press that I believe will eventually lead to his resignation at Hunt Industries.
You can stay on board if you want, but if you want to avoid getting caught in the downfall, I suggest you start exploring your options. ”
Morgan leaned back into the booth, eyes up to the sky, fingers strumming on the table. I had seen him at his most stressed, to the point that he’d resorted to the bottle and fallen into a night of texting many of his exes for drunken hookups, and this…
Was not even close to that?
Though Morgan certainly wore the signs of stress on his face, there was also a part of him that looked oddly focused, as if what he had seen was not so much new as it was just confirming what he already knew.
He wasn’t flustered, certainly not appearing as I imagine Edwin had when Melanie had announced her divorce.
“Do you remember when I asked you to promise that you would always believe me, no matter what happened?”
“This shit again,” I muttered, but Morgan did not waver. “Layla’s been saying the same thing about love. All these promises that seem to get broken… but, yes I do remember.”
Just because I remembered the words, though, didn’t mean that I believed them. I remembered a lot of things people had said to me throughout the years which I no longer believed. And right now, while I appreciated Morgan meeting with me, I still could not see him as anything other than a rat.
“Do you still believe that I am on your side?”
I let out a very, very long sigh, one that I hoped would make it clear that the answer wasn’t clearcut.
Because surprisingly, when Morgan had asked the question in such a straightforward manner, there was a part of me that wanted to give you the chance.
“I don’t, brother,” I said.
Something about my answer made Morgan smile, which seemed like the most unexpected response possible to what I had said. It certainly wasn’t a sarcastic remark, in part because the smile faded so quickly. But… what the fuck?
“Well, I don’t blame you for that the way things are going. But do me a favor. Promise me, at the absolute minimum, that you won’t be going anywhere between now and the end of the week.”
“So what, two days? No, I’m not going anywhere. Not outside the city, at least. Why?”
Now it was my turn to sound real suspicious.
“I’m going to show you what I mean.”
What the fuck does that even mean?
“Just wait. You’ll see.”
“OK,” I said, although I had no idea what the fuck he meant.
I didn’t even bother to try and conjecture at what the hell he meant; to do so would either just make me angrier or make me feel more ridiculous for asking such stupid questions.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, by the way.
I’ve gotten a lot of hell from your father over Virtual Realty because of my attempts to circumnavigate MCH. ”
“I know,” Morgan said with an exasperated smile that felt like an attempt to bond with me. “But have you noticed that MCH has not yet dissolved?”
“Of course not. You told me that would take months to happen.”
“And do you really think that Edwin would need to wait months if that were the case?”
Hmm…
I felt like I was in a giant jigsaw puzzle, but from my vantage point to the board, I could only see one piece, making it all but impossible for me to know how the pieces connected, how many pieces there were, or what the picture even was.
I only knew that I was on a jagged piece that fit in with something else, but I doubted I even knew what piece was what end.
“In any case, it’s still viable, Chance,” Morgan said. “Just hold tight. I promise things will get better soon.”
“You promise a lot of things,” I said.
“I know,” Morgan said. “But give it time. That’s all I ask.”
He looked down at his watch.
“I have to get going,” he said. “Dad needs me to do some early morning research stuff. Do me a favor, though. Send me that file?”
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” I growled. “You want your dad to see that? To know Andrew recorded him? That’s a really fucking fast way to get sued and to lay waste to Virtual Realty.”
“Just do it, OK?” Morgan said, a pleading look in his eyes.
But there was no chance in hell I was going to do this.
“Do that, and all will be well, Chance.”
With that, Morgan stood up, offered his hand, and I just shrugged.
“I’ll think about it,” I could only say.
Morgan strangely didn’t look that disappointed, almost like he could understand my predicament. Which means what’s going to happen next is going to happen whether I like it or not.
And given how things have gone so far, I’m probably not going to like it.
“Have a good one, Chance,” Morgan said.
He didn’t say anything else as he quickly departed.
I knew as these thoughts came that my paranoia was getting worse and the situation was weighing on me, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was the prisoner getting told I was going to a happier place, only to find out that I was about to be executed.
Granted, I didn’t think the odds of an actual execution were that high—though the fact that they were even odds in the first place was terrifying enough—but still; how likely was it that Morgan was about to prove even more that he was on Edwin’s side and that he was going to disown me once more?
He was no brother of mine. He was no friend. He was just an agent now for his father, as greedy and hungry for money as Edwin Hunt.
Fucking bastard.