Rhodes
THIRTY-ONE
Disclosure: Louisiana requires a seller to put known defects in writing before the sale. The form asks what you knew and when you knew it, and it leaves no line at all for how much you were trying to spare somebody.
I leave my tie loose around my neck, fasten my cuff links, and open the drawer beside the stove. Without looking, I reach for the spatula. My hand closes around it on the first try.
I stand there for a second, staring down at the mess of wooden spoons and tongs Tallulah moved here months ago because, according to her, this was where a normal person kept things they used at the stove.
The phone vibrates against the counter. Who the fuck calls at six forty in the morning?
I turn it over to see it's Wells. Jesus. He never sleeps. I close the drawer and answer. "Somebody better be dead."
"Oak Moss just became a Stone Intermodal problem."
That gets my attention. I turn off the burner under the eggs. "How?"
"The Charleston District kicked something back through the file yesterday. The consultant letter sent on your behalf has enough Stone Intermodal fingerprints on it that somebody finally asked who authorized the contact. We’re days, maybe hours, away from somebody pulling the whole thread."
I lean one hip against the counter. "Shit. Why is this even a big deal? I sent an email, that's all."
"Well, it's raised a flag somewhere."
"What needs to happen?" I haven't told Ridge about this, because I truly didn't think it would have any impact on the company.
I've been working there since a week after graduation, down in receiving, and while I still don't know what the fuck I'm doing half the time, I'm at least earning my paycheck now.
Wells keeps going. "Right now, it's a question. The biggest one is going to be why was Stone Intermodal involved in a private permit matter that has nothing to do with company business."
My stomach tightens.
"And?"
"And I can answer it."
I look down at the spatula still in my hand.
Wells's voice stays flat, practical. "You made an individual inquiry, that's all it was, and the consultant used the company address because that's what he had on file.
Nobody at SI directed the contact, nobody benefited from it, and the company had no involvement beyond you being an idiot with access to email. "
"Strong defense."
"Stop being a smart ass, Rhodes. We aren't playing office anymore, and your actions have real consequences."
"So you clean it up, and it goes away? I mean, what harm can they do to the company?”
He laughs as if my question is preposterous, like I'm a kid in over my head.
"I think I can scrub it. You don't contact the consultant again, and you don't send anything else to Charleston District without running it by me. If somebody calls you directly, you send them to me."
There it is. The easiest answer in the world.
I don't have to explain myself to Ridge.
I don't have to sit in one of those glass conference rooms while lawyers decide whether I embarrassed the company.
Wells makes the calls, cleans up the paper trail, and by lunch this becomes another problem one of my brothers handled before I had to touch it.
For one second, relief settles through me so hard I could almost laugh.
"Okay," I say.
Wells is already talking again. "Alright, then—"
"No." I set the spatula on the counter.
"What do you mean, 'no?'"
"Don't call anybody yet."
"There isn't time to sit on our asses if we're going to get in front of this. What do you want to wait for?"
"I'm going to Ridge."
"You don't need to. You don't need to drag Ridge into it yet. I prefer to fix things first, then tell him."
I push away from the counter and walk to the window over the sink. Morning light cuts across the backyard. The house is quiet again. There's no backpack against the kitchen chair or water bottle drying beside mine.
"I did it," I say. "It's time I clean up my own messes."
Wells exhales through his nose. "You understand that once Ridge knows, he will be making the decisions."
"Yeah."
"If the agency keeps pulling the thread, SI may have to show there was an actual consequence. You used company access in a way that had nothing to do with company business. If you're just Robert Stone's kid who gets a pass, that becomes its own problem."
My jaw locks.
"Understood."
For once, he leaves the next move to me.
"I'm getting ready to go into the office, anyway. I'll talk to Ridge first thing."
"Call me after."
"Will do."
I pick up my keys and pull my tie tight around my neck.
Ridge's assistant checks her screen when I give her my name, like I'm anyone.
Three fifteen, she says. He's finishing a call.
I sit in the waiting area with the other people who need something from the CEO, and I let it be exactly that.
No side door, no text that clears my path.
I asked for time, and I'm waiting for it.
When she waves me in, Ridge is behind his desk. He doesn't stand. He gestures at the chair across from him and picks up a pen.
I don't sit.
"I need to tell you something start to finish," I say.
He sets the pen down.
So I tell him all of it. I start with the old internal chain with the environmental firm's name still on it, that I emailed them from my Stone Intermodal address. That I asked them to raise the wetland delineation with the Corps because I thought a review would force the family's hand.
"Wait, why did you do this, Rhodes? Were you flexing? That's not your business."
"It's a long story, but Tallulah wanted to stop her father from developing the property. I thought I was helping. I didn't tell her I did it."
"Jesus Christ."
I keep going, telling him the rest, how it had a ripple effect for anything being done on or with the property, not just development. And then I told him that when I realized what was happening, I figured out the only way to fix it for them was for Banksie to get involved.
"So Banksie knows you meddled in their affairs, and caused a whole shit storm? Fucking great, Rhodes. Just great."
"As far as I know, Tallulah didn't tell him it was me. He thinks she did it. That was her call. I respected her wishes."
Ridge weaves his hands behind his head and leans back in his chair. The port forty floors below keeps moving, loading containers, ships coming and going.
"You created quite the shit storm, and you haven't even been officially working here a full quarter."
"Yep. This one turned out to be a doozy for everyone involved."
"So why are you here?"
"Wells said he can probably contain it before it gets any bigger. Keep the company out of it, clean up the paper trail, whatever he has to do."
Ridge's face hardens. "Good. Sounds settled."
"I told him not to."
He stares at me.
"I used Stone Intermodal to do something that had nothing to do with Stone Intermodal. Now the company gets to wear it because my last name is on the door."
"Rhodes, that's not how this works."
"It's exactly how this works."
"No, it isn't." He sits forward. "You made a bad decision. That does not mean you torch your future over it."
That's what every one of them has done my entire life. Ridge steps in between me and the hit before it gets close enough to land. Except this time I don't want him there.
"I'm resigning."
"No."
"I already made the decision."
"You've worked here officially for what, a month?"
"Long enough to create a federal headache."
"Which we can handle."
"I know you can." I hold his eyes. "That's the problem. It's time for me to grow up."
His jaw tightens.
"If I stay, what does that look like?" I ask. "Your kid brother uses a company email and company access to interfere in a private permit fight, and nothing happens because Wells makes it disappear and Ridge Stone decides it's fine?"
"I didn't say nothing happens."
"You were about to."
He doesn't answer.
I finally sit, because my legs are starting to feel stupid under me. "I'm not asking you to fire me. I'm telling you I'm leaving."
"To do what?"
"I don't know yet."
That gets a short, humorless laugh out of him. "Great plan."
"Better than the one where I hide behind all of you again."
His eyes sharpen at that. I keep going before he can cut me off.
"If they ask who did it, you give them my name. I'll sit for an interview if I need to, pay a fine. Hell, I'll go to prison if that's what this calls for. I'm not disappearing, and I'm not asking the company to take the heat."
"Then stay and deal with it here."
"No. Because me staying is part of the problem."
He leans back slowly.
"I walk into this building, and everybody knows who I am before I know their names. I had an email address before I earned one and access because I'm a Stone. I used that access like it belonged to me just because somebody handed it over." I shake my head. "I'm done doing that."
Ridge is quiet for a long time.
The port keeps moving behind him through the glass. Cranes swing over the terminals and containers stack and disappear. Everybody down there knows exactly what their job is.
"I can keep you here," he says finally.
"I know."
"I can move you somewhere else in the company, take you off systems, put you under somebody who'll actually supervise you. This is your birthright."
"Fucking listen to me, Ridge."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
He rubs his thumb along the edge of the desk.
"What are you going to tell people?"
"The truth. I made a decision outside the scope of my job that created a conflict for Stone Intermodal, and I resigned."
"You know how that sounds."
"Yeah."
"You know what people will assume."
"Probably something close to what happened."
His lips press together. For once, neither of us has anything to hide behind.
Then he says, "Cain needs help."
I blink. "What?"
"His company. He's been complaining for six months that he can't find anybody he trusts to run field operations on the Gulf side."
"I'm not asking you to find me another job."