Bad Son Rising (5 page)

Zac knocked on Liz’s door. It was only 5:30 P.M., but he was starved and wanted to get to the dining hall before the 6 P.M. rush.

“Come in,” he heard Liz’s roommate, Tara, call out.

“Hey…” Zac’s greeting stopped short upon seeing Tara’s red swollen eyes. Standing in the doorway, not sure if she wanted company, “Are you OK?”

She nodded, but a steady stream of tears cascading down her cheeks told a very different story.

“Lying Ho.” Zac said with a deliberate smile to make her laugh.

Eliciting the intended response, Tara sniffed and wiped her nose. “Sorry,” she apologized for her state.

“Well, I was going to see if you and Lizard wanted to go to dinner, but I can’t be seen with you looking like this.”

Tara smiled again and actually laughed through her tears.

Sitting down on Liz’s bed, Zac regarded Tara closely. He had taken to her right away when they had met at the beginning of his freshman and her junior year. With her long dark hair and a deep olive complexion, she reminded him slightly of Liliana Castillo, the girl he had met at his father’s wedding that had intrigued him so. Even that slight resemblance to Lily was enough to draw him to Tara.

Like Lily, Tara was very serious and somewhat shy, and he, Brian and Liz were often responsible for dragging her away from her studies to go on a road trip or to a keg party or just to hang out and cut up. Tara, Liz and Brian were his crew.

“What happened?” Zac’s voice conveyed his genuine concern.

“I can kiss grad school goodbye.” A torrent of tears began anew as Tara squeezed her eyes shut, the pain in her face devastating to watch.

“But you got in …” Zac was confused.

“I didn’t get the scholarships I was counting on. It was over twenty thousand between the scholarships and the grants that didn’t come through.” Grabbing for a tissue, she wiped her eyes.

Crossing the room, Zac sat down on the bed next to her and put his arm around her shoulder. He and Liz didn’t have to worry about the things Tara did — scholarships, grants — not being able to afford to continue their education. Those weren’t stresses that ever crossed his mind. He had watched Tara work so hard to achieve her dreams.

“I’m maxed out on loans or I’d just take more. This just puts it all out of reach.”

“Not necessarily.” Zac’s mind was spinning, “It’s just time to explore new options.”

Tara looked up at him, her large brown eyes questioning as his response held out hope she hadn’t had.

“You know, I’ve done well with the sports thing,” he began.

Immediately, Tara began to shake her head, “I can’t. I don’t know how I’d pay you back. I don’t want that between us, Zac.” New tears coursed the length of her face.

“Well, what if it was a gift?” He dipped his head, looking up at her.

“I love you for this. You know that?” and she shook her head no.

Slowly, Zac nodded his head, his mind spinning. “We will figure this out, you know,” squeezing her hand, frustration evident in his clear blue eyes. Standing, he pulled Tara up off her bed. “Let’s text Lizard to meet us in the dining hall.”

They walked across campus, Tara behind dark sunglasses to hide her swollen, bloodshot eyes, Zac behind his Tom Ford sunglasses because he knew he looked damn fine. People passing them may have noticed the self-satisfied smile on Zac Moore’s face. What they never would have guessed was the reason behind the look.

Solving problems was something he enjoyed — his new found passion for engineering being a natural fit to his solutions-oriented, left-brain thinking. While Zac may not have had the focus to get into an Ivy League school, what he did possess was both street smarts and a healthy balance of strong right-brain creativity, allowing him to conceive and construct imaginative solutions.

Above all, Zac Moore, like his father, was a true entrepreneur. And he already had a solution that was going to be a win-win. Tara wouldn’t have to give up her dreams and he was damn proud of himself.

Tara’s first date with Perry Baker was a “dry run” to see if they were compatible and for Perry to ascertain if Tara could hold her own at country club and corporate events.

In an ironic choice, Tara suggested the Brookline Restaurant
Lineage
to meet for dinner. Perry had mentioned meeting for drinks and Tara insisted on being taken to dinner on a Saturday night. She had passed his first test with flying colors and he was quite amused to meet the well-spoken young lady whose choice of a restaurant named
Lineage
made her all the more interesting.

“911,” Zac was dead serious as he drilled it into her for the third time. “If anything seems off, text me “911”, and Brian and I will be there in two seconds flat. We will be right across the street in
Pho Lemon Grass
the entire time.”

It had been made clear to Perry that if Tara fit the bill, this was merely a business arrangement. She would accompany him to functions and he would return her home directly after the event. Public displays of affection and physical contact, to corroborate the ruse, were to be limited to hand holding and an arm around the shoulder. Perry would pay Zac in advance via PayPal, and Zac, in turn, would pay Tara.

“What do you mean I get 100%?” Tara had been surprised.

Zac had just laughed, “I’m not your pimp, T. We’re just trying to get you enough in the bank so that you don’t have to defer graduate school.”

“But don’t you want, should we say, a ‘broker’s’ fee?” Tara insisted, but Zac would not hear of it.

On that night, Perry Baker’s world changed as significantly as Tara De Souza’s. Perry knew the girl was not from means, but what he never expected was someone so poised and well versed that she could fit in nicely at Wee Burn Country Club. Now if only Neelie van der Heyden could trace her Portuguese lineage back to the colonies (except the first Portuguese immigrants settling in the northeast were Sephardic Jews and that would have not played well at all with the Wee Burn Country Club set, but that was nowhere near the case in Tara’s lineage).

Having waitressed for many years in both upscale restaurants and country clubs, Tara was well trained in the art of culinary talk from specifics of the farm-to-table restaurant movement, to familiarity with James Beard nominated and award winning chefs, to substantial knowledge on the latest wine grape growing regions in the U.S. and what those wineries were producing.

Perry knew within fifteen minutes that Tara would be very useful to him from both a business and social standpoint. By the time he finished his appetizer of Island Creek oysters, his phone was in hand and he began scrolling through his calendar.

“Are you free next Friday evening for a Financial Advisors Association dinner event?”

Checking the calendar on her phone, “Yes, I am.” Tara remained calm, but inside she was jumping with joy. If they had enough dates before the end of the semester, she’d be able to settle her grad school bill at Boston University.

“Excellent. And Saturday night, will you be able to join me at the club for a member’s event? Liz will probably be there with Zac.”

Again Tara’s heart soared. Zac’s plan was going to ensure she didn’t need to stop dreaming her dream. By the end of the evening Tara’s calendar had been filled up with social and business events, and a rough calculation in her head told her that the grant and scholarship deficit would be close to made up. And how easy was it to go on dates to nice places.

“Is there any particular back story or details you’d like me to relay if people ask how we met?” Tara wanted to be able to handle the deception with ease and grace. She felt the excitement of this “double life” as if she were some sort of secret agent. Perry Baker was a snob and she knew getting involved with him in anything more that this capacity would be a huge mistake. Eventually he’d meet some long-nosed girl named Bitsy and marry the homely twenty-something when he was in his forties.

“I think a take on the truth will suit us well here. You’re Liz van der Heyden’s roommate and she introduced us.”

The following Thursday afternoon a box arrived at Liz and Tara’s dorm room from Bergdorf Goodman in New York City.

“Open it, open it, open it.” Liz demanded of Tara.

Pulling open the Bergdorf’s box, they simultaneously gasped as Tara removed the floral Oscar de la Renta A-line dress.

“It’s gorgeous,” Tara’s mouth hung open for a minute before she began peeling her clothes off to try it on.

Zipping up the back of the dress for her, Liz sighed, “How romantic.”

“It fits perfectly.” Tara smoothed it down, as she looked in the mirror. “How do you think he knew my size, Liz?” and then it dawned on her. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

Liz smiled her pixie grin, “I might’ve known in a general kind of way,” she admitted. “Do you feel like Cinderella?”

“A little,” Tara smiled. “But I also feel like that prostitute in ‘Pretty Woman,’ you know.”

“Don’t. This is just a business arrangement. Think of yourself as being in ‘Social Services’.”

“That Zac Moore is one smarty pants,” Tara commented as she continued to admire the dress in the mirror.

“Yes, he is quite the problem solving entrepreneur,” Liz agreed. “What would we do without him?”

Tara just shook her head. Her buddy Zac’s ingenuity had insured her place in Boston University’s Master’s of Archeology program.

The arrangement was a win-win for all. Perry received a new found respect amongst the men in his business life and at Wee Burn, and the women at the club kept gossip to a minimum as this was a close friend of Lizzie van der Heyden’s, and none of the women wanted to fall out of favor with her mother, Neelie.

It was only a matter of weeks before a business associate of Perry’s was hitting him up to see if his new girl had any friends. While wanting to help the guy, Perry was concerned with letting anyone outside of the initial circle know the true nature of his arrangement with Tara.

“I know we need to be careful, but Melinda Stokes is working three jobs and something like this would be a godsend to her.” Tara could only see the benefits, as her situation with Perry was like a dream come true.

“We don’t know this guy,” Brian protested, turning away from his laptop to face the other three. “Liz knew Perry and his family for eons and knew he was a standup guy.”

“That and he’s not going to ruin himself at Wee Burn, so we’ve got a safety net,” Zac explained. “We just don’t have enough leverage on this guy to make sure he doesn’t do something stupid to Melinda or whoever.”

“Perry says he’s a good guy and that he’s known him for a long time,” Tara pressed.

“Toss me my phone, Lizard,” Zac held up his hand.

Stretched out on Zac’s bed, Liz didn’t look up from her textbook,
Social Work Macro Practice.
Reaching over to the nightstand, she palmed his phone and tossed it to him in a perfect throw. “Score,” she smiled to herself.

ZAC: Hey Perry, why don’t you set something up for me and Brian to meet your buddy.
PERRY: Thursday night?
ZAC: Works for us. Join us?
PERRY: Definitely.

“Ok, we’re going to meet them on Thursday night. Let us vet the guy and if he seems solid, we can talk to Melinda. If he’s a creeper, we’ll let him pay for dinner,” Zac laughed.

Liz put down her book, “I think you need to start thinking about NDAs guys, this is not the kind of info you need to get out.”

“Let me Google standard non-disclosure agreements,” Brian was already on it and hitting print for everyone to review a copy.

“I say we have the guy sign one to even sit down with us at the table, before we even begin to talk,” Zac suggested and received approving nods from all.

Paul White was non-descript. Short and non-descript. He had a pleasant enough face, but was the kind of guy where if you’d met him at the beginning of a party and he came over to say goodbye to you at the end of the night, you’d be racking your brain trying to remember the dude’s name or any other pertinent information about him — even though you’d talked to him for the better part of twenty minutes. The only thing that stuck out about him was his height — or lack thereof.

A sports nut, Paul lived, ate and breathed the Red Sox, Patriots and Bruins. He could spew player stats and specifics of games at the drop of a hat. Zac pictured he must’ve been the mascot/resident geek of the jock dorm when he was in college. He was the guy who watched all his jock buds get the girls while he got none. Year after year.

“I need a sports loving chick that I can fuck,” he laughed.

“We can’t help you with that,” Zac was all business. “Here’s the deal, if you need someone for a business or social engagement, we can help you. If you are looking for something more physical than handholding or an arm around the shoulder, we got nothing for you.”

“No, no, no,” Paul backtracked, “I totally understand that and I’m on board.”

As they were leaving the pub that night, Zac pulled Perry aside, “Is this guy going to be ok?” Zac sensed a desperation that made him uncomfortable.