Today People

by Barbara G. Tarn

  Carl sighed.

  After calling all the people he could think of and being turned down, he sat pondering what to do next. Promote one of his employees? Who could he promote to the task?

  Then his door opened and his mother barged in, vainly stopped by Paul.

  "Madam, no, please! I'm sorry, Mr. Martin..."

  "No problem, Paul, you're fired anyway," he snapped before focusing on his mother. "Mom, what are you doing here?"

  "I wanted to see where you work and live," she answered defiantly, standing in front of his desk with her hands on her hips.

  "Leave us, Paul."

  The startled assistant closed the door and left them alone. Carl pointed his mother to sit down.

  "So, you've seen my office," he said. "Are you happy now?"

  She looked around. "Nice place," she admitted. "But your assistant is rude."

  "He's fired. He just doesn't know it yet." Carl shrugged.

  Paul hadn't questioned his interviews with old friends and probably wasn't aware his job was really at risk.

  "I was joking!" she protested. "You don't have to fire him because I said he was rude..."

  "I'm firing him because he fucks my wife," he replied.

  "Oh." Her shoulders slumped. "It's that bad?" she asked, worried.

  He nodded. "I'm filing for divorce. It was a mistake. And I'm looking for a new assistant."

  "Well... John would love to give you a hand," she said, thoughtful.

  He smiled. "Really? Why don't you tell him to come in for an interview?"

  So it was his brother's turn to gape at his furniture, his view, his office. John was in his late thirties and showed up with a casual look that reminded Carl where they came from. But if he had changed, so could his younger brother.

  "So, you're alive after all!" John said, a little nervous.

  "Obviously. I hear you're married and have kids."

  "Yeah, and no steady job. Mom said you have something for me?"

  Carl smiled triumphantly. John's talents and his were complementary. Combining them, they could turn his company into a family business and take it to new heights. John was unemployed, but not stupid. He only needed someone to have faith in him and invest some money on him – and who was better than his brother?

  Then Vanessa stormed in, followed by a worried Paul, who was now aware of his rocky position. Carl looked at her, impassive.

  "You can't fire Paul!" Vanessa exclaimed, furious.

  "Says who?" he replied calmly. "It's my company. And I've just hired my brother, here, as my new assistant."

  Vanessa stared horrified at John's casual look – the same stare Carl had felt on himself when he'd decided Never again.

  John smiled and waved at Vanessa. He even offered his hand to her, but she stepped back as if it were a snake.

  She turned to Carl. "You have a brother?"

  "Two, actually," he answered matter-of-factly. "And two sisters. I might turn this company into a family business."

  He decided not to mention that one of his sisters was dead and his other brother was a priest.

  "What? You never mentioned having a family!" Vanessa protested. What was she thinking – that he'd leave her his fortune after a fake marriage? She might be an only child, but surely she knew not everybody was one... or maybe not. She didn't use her brain much.

  He smiled pleasantly. "You never asked me about my family," he said. Then turned to John. "Meet my soon-to-be ex-wife, Vanessa."

  "She's..." John looked admiring, but she couldn't even look at him.

  "Carl, you can't!" she insisted, furious.

  "Of course I can, or I wouldn't do it, would I?"

  "I... I'll ruin you!" Vanessa stormed out, passing by a panicking Paul without looking at him. As if she had the brains to do it. But she was a spoiled rich girl, and she could find someone who could help her. Except Carl knew his business deal was bullet-proof.

  "Paul, get your stuff," he ordered. "I don't want to see you here tomorrow. I'll give you a letter of recommendation for Mr. Gold, if you wish."

  9.

  "Can't you do something about it?" Vanessa complained, pouting like when she was a child, curled up on the couch.

  Mr. Gold stared at her from his armchair. She wasn't a child anymore, but often still behaved like one. Who knew why she had decided to marry Carl Martin and why now she was complaining he filed for divorce – they were mismatched from the beginning.

  "What do you want me to do?" he asked. "He's rich, he's smart, he's powerful..." He must admit he admired Carl's determination and where it had taken him. He'd always known the young man had it in him, which was why he'd chosen him as his assistant – and then Carl had moved on, building his own empire. Impressive.

  "But you can crush him!" Vanessa insisted.

  "I doubt it," he replied. "Why don't you try to mend the fences in your marriage yourself?"

  He'd spoiled her. It was time she learned to be responsible and fight her own fights. He wouldn't always be there to defend her. And she'd screwed up her relationship with Carl – or he could have taken care of her.

  "I hate him!" she exclaimed, furious. "He's not even a good business partner!"

  "Why did you marry him then?"

  "We made a deal! And I thought it was a winning one!"

  He scoffed. "I knew it was wrong, but you wouldn't listen." He'd lost his hold on her a long time ago. And he hadn't really transmitted his business sense to her – she was too much like her mother. Nowadays she came to him only when she needed money – or revenge.

  "I think he lied about his origins," she said through clenched teeth. "Maybe he made money as gang leader!"

  Mr. Gold shook his head, amused. "His money is clean," he assured. "It's true he comes from poverty, but whatever he achieved, he did on his own."

  "How do you know?" she demanded.

  "He was my assistant for a couple of years, after all. I investigated his past. His drive to get out from his former situation led him to success. I told you he's smart!"

  She glared at him. "I guess you like him more than I ever did," she grumbled.

  "I certainly never underestimated him," he replied. "Vanessa, you're pretty and most men would die for you. But sometimes there are men who are a little more... sophisticated. I'm sure Carl knew what he was doing more than you ever did. I don't know why he backed out of the deal since I haven't talked to him, but he knows exactly what you both signed, so I don't know how to help you."

  An embarrassed butler let in a matronly beauty who obviously couldn't be kept out of the Gold living room.

  "I'm sorry, Mrs. Martin wanted to see you..." the butler apologized as the woman stopped in front of the Golds and stared at both with fiery dark brown eyes.

  "No problem, Gerry," Mr. Gold said, taking in the natural beauty of Carl's mother, who wore no make-up and didn't go to the hairdresser, but looked good even in her cheap, out-of-fashion dress. "Please, Mrs. Martin, take a seat."

  The woman sat in the other armchair – his late wife's place – and Mr. Gold smiled.

  "We should have met earlier," he said. "What can I do for you today?"

  Her wariness became almost defiance. "My son forgot to invite me to his wedding," she said. "But since it's dissolving, I'm glad I wasn't there." She stared at Vanessa whose disgusted expression at her looks turned to shock as she realized who the woman was.

  Vanessa gasped, speechless, but Mrs. Martin smiled at her before turning back to her father.

  "Anyway, I came because I'm worried for my son," she added matter-of-factly.

  "You have nothing to worry about," he assured. "Vanessa, here, will sign the divorce papers as soon as she receives them."

  "Dad!" Vanessa protested.

  "I'm glad you realized they made a mistake," Mrs. Martin said.

  "I knew the match wasn't right, even if I'm quite fond of Carl myself," he replied, noticing the resemblance between mother and son. Someone should give her a chance to become like her so
n.

  "He's my firstborn, and the best of the lot," she said proudly. "Pity he tried to erase us from his life," she added with a sigh.

  "How many children do you have?" he asked, genuinely curious. He knew were Carl was born, but couldn't remember all the details. It had been some time since Carl had worked for him.

  "Five," she answered. "My husband died when Carl was barely a teen – a heart attack."

  Mr. Gold nodded, thoughtful. So Carl had been very close to death, since his father had died young. Maybe the heart attack had allowed Carl to see more clearly into his future and he'd decided Vanessa shouldn't be part of it – he couldn't blame him for that decision.

  "My wife passed away when Vanessa was a toddler, leaving her a very spoiled only child," he said.

  "So you never remarried?" Mrs. Martin asked, surprised.

  "No. You?"

  She shook her head. "I had my hands full with five kids. I didn't have time to find someone else."

  "I had plenty of time, but never really looked..." he admitted with melancholy.

  She looked him in the eyes, and he could almost hear her thoughts of sympathy. They'd both lost their loved one too soon.

  "Dad!" Vanessa screamed, incredulous.

  "Yes, dear?" Mr. Gold couldn't take his eyes off of Mrs. Martin.

  "You can't do this to me!" Vanessa protested.

  "What, dear?"

  "You're turning your back on me! You're teaming with Carl!"

  Unwillingly, he moved his eyes from Mrs. Martin to his daughter. "I'm hiring Paul, as requested by your soon-to-be ex-husband," he chided. "I think it's time you grow up, dear."

  He turned to Mrs. Martin again and smiled.

  "Don't worry, Mrs. Martin, everything will be all right."

  "Christine," she said with a smile.

  "Nice meeting you, Christine. My name is Anthony..."

  ***

  "It's settled," John announced, entering Carl's office while Carl was talking to their other brother Danny. "Andy stopped by to drop off your divorce papers." He showed the envelope before sliding it on Carl's desk.

  "Thanks, John." Carl grabbed the envelope and dropped it into a drawer, observed with curiosity by Danny – a Catholic priest, no less.

  "Want to talk about it?" Danny asked as John stood behind him with his arms crossed over his chest. Both stared with curiosity at Carl who averted his eyes.

  "Not really, no." Carl grumbled.

  "And now that you're the world's most wanted bachelor again, what will you do?" John asked.

  "I need time to think."

  "About what? Fathering a teenager?" Danny chided.

  "Wanna marry the divorced mother?" John suggested.

  "I don't know, John. Angela wants my money, not me."

  "Well, she has your money, obviously. And not only that!"

  Carl shook his head. "I don't want to talk about that."

  "Not even with your confessor?" Danny insisted. "Johnny can wait outside..."

  "You're not my confessor, Danny!" Carl snapped. He hadn't been in a church for a confession in years. "You're my brother – both of you are. Younger brothers. I don't want to talk about this, and that's final."

  Danny rose from his chair, insulted. "Fine, when rich elder brother feels like talking to us mortals, he knows where to find us. Let's go, Johnny, I don't know why you bother to work for him!"

  Danny put an arm around John's shoulder and pulled him out of the room while John protested, "I work with him! And I was unemployed before! I've got mouths to feed!"

  Carl didn't hear Danny's reply as the door banged closed behind them. He sighed and shook his head. They were still catching up, how could Danny expect him to trust his family? They'd been estranged for so long, he needed to get used to them again.

  Besides, John and Danny had made different choices and led different lives. How could they help him to figure out his next move?

  The following weekend Pamela showed up at his door. Since Vanessa was gone and he threw fewer parties, the butler had a day off, so he got the door himself.

  "Hi there!" she greeted with her brightest smile. "I thought I could ask you out again!"

  "Oh, really? What made you think so?" he asked, amused.

  She leaned on him and whispered in his ear. "I hear you're a divorced man now."

  He smiled and stepped back.

  "Indeed," he said. "News fly. But I don't love you anymore."

  "So?" she shrugged. "We had great sex..." Giggles. "I thought we could have more..." Batted eyelashes. Flirtatious dumb blonde knew how to tempt a man.

  "Well, if you insist..."

  She stepped forward. "I insist."

  "Then come in."

  10.

  And then the recession hit. Carl and John spent hours at the office, comparing charts and reports.

  "What's going on, Carl?" the younger brother asked, worried, not sure he grasped the situation.

  "Geez, it's worse than Black Monday," Carl muttered.

  "But what is it?" John insisted.

  "Financial crisis, John. Economy is collapsing all over the world."

  John's eyes widened in shock. "We... you're losing a lot of money every day!"

  "I know." He wasn't panicking, through. It almost felt predestined. As if he was expecting it. Murphy's law. My life, part two. Lose everything, start from scratch.

  "How can you be so calm?" John asked, incredulous.

  "Panic won't help," he answered with a shrug. Besides, he knew what was down the gutter. He'd already done the climb once. He might not be young anymore, but he knew he could do it again if necessary. He wondered how Vanessa would take such a hit – but her father would probably shield her, as usual.

  "I just don't know what to do!" John gesticulated more than usual in his frustration.

  "Don't worry, I do."

  He still had plenty of money to spare. He hadn't bought a dozen houses, since the mansion was enough for him, and he still had the old apartment, just in case. His finances were still pretty solid and so was the company. Yes, he needed to keep an eye on the situation, but it wasn't bad yet. Probably never would be. He might have failed in his personal life, but he'd never have money problems ever again.

  At some point Carl called it a day and sent everybody home. Back at the mansion, he kept working well into the night, losing track of time.

  He sat back with a sigh. His chest ached and panic hit him. He picked up the phone, already hyperventilating, and called Bonnie.

  She arrived with Warren and they laid him on the couch. It must be the wee hours, but Carl was too exhausted even to raise his arm and check his watch. He was calmer, now, and the pain had vanished.

  "It's nothing," Bonnie said after taking his blood pressure. "Pure exhaustion. You need to sleep."

  His eyelids were so heavy... he nodded and drifted off to sleep.

  ***

  The phone had rung in the middle of the night and Warren had picked up, still sleepy. Carl's panicked voice had awakened him like a cold shower and he'd jumped out of bed with Bonnie to help their friend.

  It turned out not to be another heart attack, just exhaustion on Carl's part. Warren didn't envy his position. Obviously having a lot of money didn't solve all problems.

  Warren and Bonnie went home and back to bed. She was very quiet, more than usual. He tried to hold her, but she pulled away.

  "Please," she snapped, turning her back on him.

  He tried to embrace her from behind.

  "Warren, please, I need some sleep too!"

  "Can't we cuddle together?"

  She snorted and pushed him away.

  "I'll sleep on the couch," she grumbled, leaving the bedroom.

  Warren lay down, staring at the darkened ceiling and wondering. Was it the nurse's duty that had upset her? Was it Carl? She'd been very sweet with their former classmate. If he remembered correctly, she'd almost caressed Carl's face before they left. What was going on?

  Then sleep won
him, and doubts sank at the back of his mind.

  ***

  Carl invited Angela to dinner. His financial losses didn't impact his ability to pay the requested child support, but he thought it was time they met alone – for the first time in years.

  "I hope you're not trying to withdraw from your duties," she said as they sat in the restaurant where they'd first dated so many years ago. She obviously didn't get the hint that he wanted to continue from there.

  "No, but I thought we could talk," he answered, staring at her, wishing he could read her mind. She looked relaxed and sure of herself – and was still very beautiful, in spite of being almost fifty. It looked like time hadn't passed for her body.

  "I tried to settle things with you privately, but you were too busy, apparently," she retorted. "Or you wanted to hear it from a court."

  She was really pissed off. And seemed to have forgotten how her daughter had been conceived.

  "I really thought it was your husband's daughter."

  "So did I... until I saw her face. And she's very good at maths, by the way."

  Carl grinned and shook his head. "I believe your ex-husband is a bank teller," he teased.

  "Computers do the maths in banks," she replied, amused. "You're the math freak. So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

  Okay, she didn't guess yet. Time to say it out loud.

  "You have what you wanted, but I was wondering if you wanted more."

  "You mean if I want another husband? No, thank you."

  "Your daughter is still young, she might need a father..."

  "We don't need any damn man to mess with our lives," she said bluntly, her smile vanishing. "I only want you to pay for her education."

  "Don't you think we could give each other another chance?"

  She shook her head with a stern look on he face.

  "No, Carl, I took everything I wanted from you."

  "Am I at least allowed to get to know my daughter?"

  It took some convincing. But then Angela reluctantly agreed to ask her daughter if she wanted to meet him or not. He thanked her for her time and went home, praying his daughter would actually want to get to know him. Her mother had probably indoctrinated her against him – and men in general – but who knew, maybe the teen would love to form her own opinion about her biological father.