Oh Stupid Heart (11 page)

Carrie thought better
of him for wishing to talk to his wife alone first. It was a huge decision and
shouldn’t be made too quickly.

The hiking partners
switched, and each couple walked arm in arm through five hundred acres of
forest and streams.

…

Trent expected all
hell to break loose on Monday. Coco would not stand for Carrie’s intrusion
without a fight, and she fought dirty.

If he’d thought for a
moment Coco would peacefully leave, he’d fire her by email today. And while
Carrie might be right about the people interviewing being overqualified, he was
not ready to give up on getting better employees.

However, Carrie
brimmed with ideas and confidence from her new training. He had to give Ian
credit for one thing: he could excite people about their job as change
specialist.

That in itself would
become a major issue. Coco had suggested it as a powerless job to nowhere.
Carrie believed it gave her license to do anything. They needed change, and she
had returned with the expectation she would be in charge of the transition here
forth.

Trent had no choice
but to back her. But he worried how Coco would react. She’d go after Carrie
with everything she had. He’d do his best to block the attacks, but he knew
some would get through and find their targets.

“You do realize Coco
won’t agree with anything you suggest,” he warned.

Carrie stopped
walking and stared up at him in shock. “Coco cares nothing about our company. I
expect she’ll fight the changes I plan to make tooth and nail, not because they
aren’t the right ones, but because I wish to implement them.”

He nodded.

Carrie kicked a rock
from the path. “I would love to fire her before I ever begin, but since I’d
still like to use Dan Marshal, I need her to prove herself to be a negative
force three times.”

“Once would be good
enough for me.”

“Nope, three times
and she’s out.”

Trent worried about
the three strikes rule. Works well with baseball. However, Coco was more like
Russia launching a nuclear bomb. One attack should justify a firing.

***

While Carrie enjoyed
the peaceful sleep of the innocent, Trent had nightmares of the psychological
attacks Coco would launch against his beloved. He finally gave up on sleeping
and went downstairs, hoping beyond hope he could find something stronger than
green tea to drink.

To his surprise, Jon
was up, as well, sipping a clear liquid in a short glass.

“What is that, and
where’d you find it?”

“Freezer. Vodka with
raspberry flavoring. Not as bad as it sounds.”

He located the
unknown brand vodka and poured himself a stiff drink. He joined Jon in the
living room and sat down on a comfortable couch.

At the first taste,
he frowned. “Is there even vodka in this?”

Jon shrugged. “It
kicks in after the third drink. It’s only 18 proof or something.”

“Sorry, we’ll get
some decent stuff tomorrow.”

He smiled. “Sounds
good to me. I haven’t had a decent drink since…I became myself. That’s one
thing you can say for our former class of people. They know how to drink.”

“Yeah, fine alcohol
is an addictive luxury. My driver bought a bar. I’m convinced he did so just so
he could purchase the good stuff at wholesale prices.”

“Your driver…you mean
your half-brother?”

Trent choked on his
drink and stared at Jon in shock. “Why would you think he’s my brother?”

“Our mothers shared
all their secrets.”

His brain reeled.
“Exactly what do you know?”

Jon leaned back in
the recliner. “I only overheard one thirty minute weeping-fest in the garden. I
had hidden myself in the wisteria enjoying father’s best bourbon, so my memory
may not be entirely accurate.”

“I still need to know
what you heard. I’ve never had a clue why my father, on his death bed, made me
promise never to fire Sam.”

“You didn’t notice he
resembles you and your dad?”

“First, I don’t see
any resemblance between us. And Sam is from middle-class stock. Frankly, the
idea my father would touch a commoner is inconceivable. So tell me what
happened?”

Jon didn’t speak for
some time.

“If you fall asleep,
I will wake you up,” he growled.

Jon chuckled. “I was
trying to recall more of the conversation. They were distraught because they
believed the situation had been handled. I got the sense my mother had a part
in handling it.”

“When did you
overhear them?”

“A month before I
disappeared.”

“Jeez! I thought you
heard their conversation way back as a teen but you’d failed to mention it
until now. Why the hell does a grown man hide in the wisteria?”

Jon snorted. “I sure
wouldn’t now, but before Patty, I’d never grown up. My body did, but I was
still the petulant, angry kid you befriended.” He paused and stared at Trent.
“On the message you left on my answering machine before I picked up, you seemed
uncertain we were friends. Why?”

Trent shrugged. “All
my friends from my early years later admitted their parents made them spend
time with me.”

Jon took another sip
of his vodka. “For the record, my parents told me I had to be your friend, as
well. Every time we’d go to your house or you’d come to mine, I’d bitch and
moan and get something I wanted in exchange for this hardship.”

His words hurt, but
Trent maintained a calm exterior. “I didn’t need to know that.”

“But here’s the
thing. I liked you from the first day we met. I understood you. I knew exactly
where all your anger came from, because I was in the same shitty place. But if
my parents had ever suspected I liked being your friend, I would’ve never seen
you again. They would’ve declared you a bad influence.”

Feeling much better
now, Trent grinned. “You actually got bribes to come over?”

Jon nodded. “I wanted
to tell you, thinking you might be able to do the same with your parents, but I
was afraid to. You tended to break out in bursts of honesty with your mother,
and I worried you’d confess my clever scam in one of them.”

Trent couldn’t argue
with that. His sense of integrity had always seemed higher than those around
him. “I’m glad we’ve reconnected.”

Jon finished off his
drink. “How much does a house like this go for?”

“No idea.”

“You didn’t give her
the money to buy it?”

He shook his head.
“Carrie bought this. She’s a financial genius. When she took the position of
EA, my company was headed to bankruptcy. Had been for twenty years, at least,
but my father knew he’d be handing it over to me, so he did nothing to save it.
He wanted me to fail. He loaded up the staff with deadbeats, reduced product
quality, stopped advertising, and then passed it over to me with a lecture
about all his hard work, how he’d planned to have my dead brother take it over,
but instead had to give it to his loser second son who would run it into the
ground within a year.”

“Bastard.”

“He was, but back
then, I kept insisting he was a good man. Carrie opened my eyes when she called
my angry irrational bouts ‘channeling my dead father’.”

“She’s good for you.”

Trent couldn’t agree
more. While he’d threatened to fire her the first time she said it, with time
to consider the matter, he realized she was right. Every ‘management’ skill his
father had taught him was meant to make him fail.

“It had to kill my
father when I somehow managed to keep his business going. He never got to say,
‘I told you, you couldn’t do it.’ But after he died, I stopped trying so hard,
and it headed south. One day, a tiny young woman radiating happiness and energy
shows up, wanting to be my EA. Even with the worst fucking employees
imaginable, she helped me turn it around.”

“She’s something
special.”

Trent nodded, happy
his friend could see her value.

“Wish I’d have met
her instead of Patty.”

His happiness
dispersed. “Ummm, just so you know. I’m over-protective of Carrie. One might
even say irrationally jealous.”

Jon held up his hands.
“I would never go there, my friend. I only said I wished I’d met someone like
her.”

Trent was pretty sure
he’d heard Jon clearly state a wish for Carrie, but he didn’t challenge it.
Instead, he changed the conversation. “Your wife’s a charming, beautiful
person.”

“She’s okay. I
thought her great when I first met her, but I think most of what impressed me
was that she never acted like the Cocos of our world.”

Trent leaned forward.
“Do you regret leaving society?”

“No. I’m much
happier. Poor as hell, but happier. I only wish….” He glanced up at the stairs,
then whispered. “I wish I could have left on my own, or at least chosen a wife
with a real job, a sense for money, and a non-Catholic. You’ve no idea how
stressful it is to work as hard as you can and never be able to pay all your
bills. It sucks the life out of you.”

Jon sighed. “If I had
married someone like Carrie, I’d be in a far better space right now.”

Trent didn’t like his
refocusing on Carrie. “Patty is sexy as hell and clearly loves you. Are you
sure your discontent isn’t about the lack of money?”

Jon raked his hands
through his hair. “Maybe…and the fact I don’t write anymore. You know how much
I love writing.”

He didn’t actually,
but he threw out what he could. “Carrie says your sci-fis are her favorite,
after Orson Scott Card.”

He smiled. “She’s put
me in fine company there.”

“So in a perfect
world where money fell off trees, would you return to writing science fiction?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Keep your wife and
kids?”

He smiled and nodded.
“But in a perfect world, I would have room with a lock so I could write without
interruption.”

“Hold that thought
while I make a call.” Trent hurried to the solarium and dialed his butler.

Mars was surprisingly
polite and coherent for two a.m.

“Mars, sorry for
waking you….I did wake you, right?”

“Yes, Master Trent. I
was asleep.”

“Sorry about that. I’m
just about to offer a friend something, but before I do, I need to get your buy
in, because I do not want you finally giving up on me and taking a job
somewhere else.”

“And what are you
planning that would cause me to do such a thing?” An edge of worry crept into
Mars’ voice.

“I’ve decided to
leave society like my friend Pete did, only he changed his name, and knocked up
his girlfriend to get disowned by his parents. With mine dead, I don’t need to
be so radical. But I’m sensing Carrie wants us to live here at her house, which
would definitely make it harder for society to track me down and try to drag me
back into their web.”

“Sir, are you selling
the penthouse?”

“No! Pete is having a
hard time financially, and I thought I’d let him, his wife, and four kids stay
there if you don’t mind. If you do mind, I won’t make the offer.”

“May I inquire to the
age of the children?”

“I’ve no clue, but
I’m guessing they’re young because right now they live in a two room apartment,
and he complained she pops one out every year.”

A heavy sigh filled
the silence.

“It was a bad idea,
forget I called you. It’s just Pete, who now calls himself Jon Javits, may cut
and run so he can return to writing Sci-Fi.”

“The author of The
SkyRyder series?”

“No clue. I don’t
read.”

“And the decision
lies with me?”

“Yes. If having them
in the penthouse will make you miserable enough to leave, I won’t do it.”

“Honestly, I would
like to assist your friend’s return to writing. His novels are most
entertaining. Without knowing the demeanor of the children, I have no idea if
my new staff will quit or not. May I suggest you offer them a temporary stay at
the penthouse so I may get a better feel for the situation?”

Before Carrie, Trent
hated when people threw out alternatives to his plans, now he appreciated them.
“Excellent, let’s try your idea.”

Trent hung up the
phone. Damn it! He needed to verify Carrie was okay with him living here. He
should have gotten her approval before he woke Mars.

He spun on his heel
and almost crushed his beloved, wearing a robe over her sexy teddy. Her tousled
bedroom hair stirred his loins. “I was going upstairs to wake you.”

“Why?”

He ushered her to the
couch in the solarium and explained Jon’s situation, failing to mention his
friend’s obsession with her. “I was thinking you’d prefer for us to live here,
so I could give it a try, and we could let Jon and his family have the
penthouse. If I like it here and Mars is okay with the kids, I’ll make him a
longer term offer. What do you think?”