Chapter 81
I headed home at that point when I got a text from someone else with something very unexpected, something actually a little sad.
“Hey, can you meet me for dinner,” Morgan had written. “It’s about Edwin. He’s falling ill.”
I couldn’t pretend to have the slightest bit of sympathy for the old man.
Though I would never wish illness or death upon anyone, that didn’t mean I had to feel sorry for them when such a thing happened.
Right now, that’s how I felt about Edwin—it was sad that he had fallen ill, but for the kind of person he was, for the way he treated me, I really couldn’t have given a shit that he was sick.
I did, however, give a shit that Morgan seemed affected by it. I could practically hear and feel his pain through the text message, and even though I could have made dinner given the lack of plans in my day, there was little doubt that I was going to make this dinner for him.
“Of course, you let me know time and place and I’ll be there.”
Morgan responded shortly after with a quiet steakhouse about five blocks from my house about four hours from then.
When I arrived at the steakhouse, I’d actually made the effort to dress up a little bit.
I hadn’t thrown on a tie—I was sick of ties and could do without ever have to wear one again—but I had thrown on slacks and a button-down shirt.
I saw Morgan sitting at the table already, his eyes cast down, his gaze distant, and his hands in his lap.
“Hey bud,” I said, going over and patting him on the shoulder. “You doin’ OK?”
Morgan shrugged, stood up, and spoke as he hugged me.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. “It’s Dad that’s not so great.”
“How so?” I said.
Again, it wasn’t said out of sympathy for Edwin Hunt. It was said out of an effort to comfort Morgan. I suppose maybe that exposed something about me that I was willing to help Morgan with regards to Edwin but not Edwin himself; maybe it was hypocritical?
I really didn’t give a shit. I just wanted to see my brother comforted and empathized with as needed.
“Ever since we made him quit, he’s just… it’s like he’s losing the will to live,” Morgan said. “Mom leaving him hasn’t helped matters, but I think the impending departure is making him lose it.”
“Like all of his mistakes and ways are catching up to him,” I said.
“Yeah,” Morgan said. “Maybe.”
I was shocked to realize Morgan’s voice was wavering. And because of that, I was shocked to notice something else—I was feeling sympathy… for Edwin.
This did not mean that I suddenly liked Edwin or wanted to let him keep his job. It was a necessity for everyone’s sake that he quit his job. It was because of his actions that he was being forced out and that his marriage had fallen apart.
But where before I had felt nothing but anger and rage, this was different. I had felt an abstract sort of sadness for Edwin in the sense that it was always sad when someone old got sick, potentially putting them on death’s door, but it had never been real sadness.
But to see Morgan like so…
My brother had, I realized, put up many fronts in the aftermath of what had happened with his father.
He might have agreed with me on my course of action and he might have felt it was a business benefit to have his father out, but that didn’t mean there was hell to pay emotionally.
Morgan actually had a relationship with his father, something I could not and did not want to claim.
It was strange to realize how even bad people could do good for others.
Even selfish, wicked people had people they loved and cared for, and in turn had them care back.
Edwin may not have been the most complicated person, but that didn’t mean his actions couldn’t have complicated consequences and outcomes.
“I’m sorry, man,” I finally said. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all good,” Morgan said. “He’s old. I think we all knew that he wasn’t going to live much longer. Just… fuck, man. He’s my dad. You know?”
“Yeah,” I said solemnly.
“Like, he’s done some real shit for me. He taught me how to be a businessman.
His wealth put both of us through Columbia.
His wealth enabled us to live on our own and get things off the ground.
I know he’s done some really bad shit to many people, including us, especially you, but… fuck, man, it’s hard.”
“I know,” I said. “I know, man. I’m sorry. Whatever I can do to help…”
I trailed off. There wasn’t much, if anything, I could do to help.
I couldn’t relate to Morgan, not with my lack of a relationship with Edwin.
I was actually quite curious to see how Mom was handling the news, or if she even knew; if she wasn’t upset by it, it wasn’t inconceivable to believe that Morgan might be suffering alone, the only person who truly had anything other than a strictly surface-level relationship with Edwin.
No wonder he seemed so emotional and so upset. It was tough to mourn; it was even tougher to mourn when one realize they weren’t doing it with anyone else.
“You’re good, man,” Morgan said.
The waiter came by right after, giving us both a much needed pause from the conversation.
Morgan ordered a double gin and tonic, and I just asked for water.
I knew I needed to be the sober one and the calm one; I couldn’t be putting Morgan in a spot where he’d have to take care of my drunk ass at some point.
“So, how are you going to handle it?” I said. “I know you are going to be CEO, like we talked about this morning—”
“I know, but that was something I figured would happen later, not, like, within a couple weeks.”
Jesus. Edwin is that sick. Fuck…
“I don’t know that I’m ready for this, Chance,” Morgan said.
“This is all just so much so fast. One day, I’m working as an executive but under Edwin, and now I’m expected to not just be on my own but oversee the entire company?
If you and I weren’t also on the board, I’d say I’d be out on the streets.
You think my father surrounded himself with yes men?
Well, he did, but they’re devious yes men.
They’re going to do whatever they can to get power as soon as he’s gone. ”
“And that’s soon, you said.”
“Dude, he’s bad,” Morgan said. “Fuck, he looked terrible. He left work early today.”
There couldn’t have been stronger words to set the stakes than that.
Edwin never, ever left work early. At best, he left the office but brought an assistant and his phone with him to some of our events so that he could do work during the various ceremonies and events.
The earliest I think I had ever seen him come home on a weekday was after 7 p.m.
“How early is early?”
“Like, two.”
Fucking hell…
“Well, Morgan, I can’t offer you advice on how to be a CEO or anything like that, unfortunately,” I said.
“But I can tell you this much. There’s been a hell of a lot of things going on in the past few months that I’ve just said ‘fuck it’ and dived right in on.
Maybe you aren’t ready, but who is? You’re only going to learn on the job.
You’ll be young, but you’ll figure it out. ”
“That’s awfully optimistic of you,” Morgan said.
“Maybe,” I said. “But I have reason to be optimistic. You’re a pusher. You get shit done. You just say ‘you know what, fuck it. I’m going to make this happen.’”
Maybe you should take your own advice, you know. Maybe you should listen to what you’re saying and try and do it with Layla.
But remember your promise to take it slow. And for that matter, are you really going to be able to go all-in with Layla if Sarah is literally on the other side of your next date with Layla?
It may yet work out. But your advice for Morgan is what he needs. You need the opposite. You need “hey, take it slow,” not “fuck it, I’m going to make this happen.”
“Well, we’ll see,” Morgan said. “Just be ready for a phone call at any hour.”
So Edwin’s that close to dying. Holy shit…
“In any case, what else have you done today?” Morgan said. “Did you figure out any of the life shit that we talked about at our coffee meeting?”
I felt uncomfortable shifting the focus back to me and would have thrown it back to Morgan if not for the yearning in his eyes. It was like he was begging me to switch the topic of conversation. He was hoping, pleading that I wouldn’t keep reminding him of his father.
And so I decided to drop the bombshell that had landed in my lap just a short while earlier.
“No, but I did have something unreal happen,” I said. “Guess who I’m meeting for brunch on Saturday.”
“Who?” Morgan said. “Sorry, I don’t mean to not guess. I just can’t think straight worth a shit right now.”
“No, no, you’re fine,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Sarah Hill.”
Morgan nodded at first, the name not seeming to register with him. But then, just as the waiter placed his gin and tonic on the table, Morgan stared at me in shock. I smiled as the waiter took our orders, both of us getting ribeyes with potatoes and brussel sprouts.
“For real,” Morgan said as the waiter left. “Sarah Hill? Didn’t we go through this shit already with my dad?”
“Yes, but no,” I said, laughing. “I’m almost certain the real Sarah Hill messaged me earlier.
She asked if we could meet as she’ll be in town this weekend.
Unless someone invited hologram technology, I’m pretty sure it’s the real Sarah.
She didn’t flirt or get erotic in her messaging. I’m pretty sure it’s real.”
“Holy shit.”
Morgan just stared slackjawed at me for several seconds.
Even I had to admit the whole thing felt stupidly surreal.
Twelve hours ago, the name “Sarah Hill” was more synonymous with one of the most wicked ploys Edwin had ever pulled on me.
Now, she was closer to a childhood crush I’d never let go of but finally had the chance to try more with.
“And you’re going to take it?” he said.
“Yeah,” I said. “Why not?”
“Why not?” Morgan said with a laugh—something I was very happy to see for how this dinner had started. “You were all about Sarah Hill as a kid, man. You used to obsess over her. I was jealous, too, that girl was a looker. Why wouldn’t you?”
“I mean, to be clear, I am,” I said. “But just the idea that, you know, I’m seeing Layla and all, and I don’t—”
“Fuck that,” Morgan said.
Alcohol’s gotten to you already, huh?
“Look, I’ll admit Layla isn’t the horrible human being I thought she was. She seems like a good human being, and she helped you with all of this. But you’re not her boyfriend. You have a right to see Sarah. And, frankly, Sarah is more attractive than Layla.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No buts, Morgan, you should do it,” he said. “Otherwise, I’m not sure what you’ll be thinking.”
I’m not sure what to think about a lot of things anymore, I thought, though I masked it with a smile.
As predicted, Morgan ended up getting pretty drunk at the dinner. He never got embarrassingly drunk, but I made sure to cut him off after his third double gin and tonic. When we finished, I paid for the meal, called an Uber for Morgan, and put him in the car.
“Let’s reconvene soon,” I said.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a smirk. “Whatcha, whatcha gonna do with those girls then? Threesome?”
I laughed.
“I think that would be the worst move right now,” I said. “I see Layla on Thursday and Sarah on Saturday. I’ll figure out the rest after.”
“Ohhh, got it!” Morgan said, pointing at me.
“But hey, Morgan,” I said before closing the door. “You come to me anytime you wanna talk, OK?”
Morgan went silent, bowed his head, and nodded.
“Sleep well and drink some water before you pass out. You’re gonna feel like shit in the morning.”
With that, I closed the car door, tapped the side of it twice, and watched as Morgan drove off into the New York City night, heading to his apartment.
Depending on how the next week or so went, he wasn’t going to be the only one waking up feeling like shit.