Down and Dirty

by Taylor Holloway

  I didn’t know what to say and so I didn’t say anything.

  “Nicholas?” Nathan promoted. “Are you still there.”

  “Yeah, I’m here. I can’t really tell you right now about where I’ve been,” I admitted. “Look it’s really, really complicated.”

  It wasn’t actually complicated at all. It was staggeringly, stupidly simple. I found out Durant Industries made chemical weapons and sold them through Skylark. Skylark knew that I knew, so I had to run away so they wouldn’t kill me (and potentially Nathan, David, Alexander, and anyone else who wouldn’t happily go along with their plan). But I wasn’t ready to tell that to Nathan—especially over an unsecured phone line.

  “Um…Ok,” Nathan replied skeptically, “well are you going to come home soon? I’m getting married in April if you want to come.”

  “Married?!” I exclaimed, “Wow. Congratulations. I didn’t think you’d be the first of us to get married.”

  “Thanks man,” Nathan replied genuinely, then adding, “but I’m actually not the first. Alexander’s been married for a couple years now. There’s even an Alexander Durant IV now. He’s like four months old and constantly smells terrible. Have you been living under a rock?”

  I struggled to absorb the information about my family that was coming through the phone. Alexander III, my cousin and the son of my uncle Alexander II, was a real estate developer with such a hatred of the Durant name that I could barely believe he’d bestow it on his wife, let alone his son. But that wasn’t even the weirdest part.

  “Some poor girl married Alexander? And had his baby?” I managed, and Nathan laughed again. Nathan sounded incredibly happy. I could tell that life was treating him well. I envied him.

  And I also envied my cousin Alexander. Alexander III was without a doubt the second biggest asshole in the family, not that he wasn’t up against some stiff competition (naturally my dad took the number one spot). Alexander was several years older than me and had always treated me like a kid, which was irksome even when I was a kid. He was just a genuinely irksome human who enjoyed being irritating. I felt bad for whoever ended up married to him.

  “Yeah and you know the poor girl. Remember Madison Clark?” Nathan asked.

  I did remember her. Madison was the petite, pretty daughter of our family’s lawyer. She had gone through school with the four of us and was a few years younger than me. Madison was a nice girl. Much too nice for Alexander.

  “Wow. Damn. That’s unexpected. Please don’t tell me you’re marrying Angelica or something.”

  I could practically hear Nathan shudder through the phone.

  “Thankfully not. You gotta’ meet Zoey though, she’s great. A lot has changed since you’ve been around. David and I are on the board now, although I think David’s going to resign soon. He’s got this new television series and it’s a whole big thing. I can explain it later. So, are you gonna’ come home soon?”

  “Yeah, actually,” I replied impulsively, “I think I might.”

  The idea that Jenna might somehow come to danger as a result of having met me was simply unacceptable to me. No matter what it meant for me personally, I had to make sure she was safe, even if I had to bring down my father, Skylark, and the entire United States government. Plus, I was getting really tired of hiding out in a cabin by myself. It was time to give up the hermit lifestyle and go back to being Nicholas Durant.

  15

  Jenna

  “Hello there sweetheart. Good morning to you,” the older man in front of me said, holding the front door of the Durant Industries building open solicitously. He smiled at me with a predatory glint in his beady, dark eyes.

  “Thank you,” I replied as politely as I could, smiling thinly.

  “You look very nice today,” he said, following me a bit too closely.

  “Thank you,” I repeated blandly.

  “No, thank you,” the man said with a wink.

  Ugh. Gross. He was definitely old enough to be my grandfather.

  I made a beeline to the ladies’ room so that I wouldn’t have to endure the elevator ride with the guy. He clearly wanted to engage in a conversation with me, but I wanted to make it through my morning without vomiting. One of us wasn’t going to get our way.

  In the privacy of the bathroom, I checked my makeup and stared at my outfit in the mirror. It was a staid, boring, conservative skirt suit. My hair was in a bun. I was wearing one piece of jewelry, just a plain, small, golden cross. There was absolutely nothing about my appearance that warranted or invited Creepy McCreeperson’s lascivious attentions. But then again, there never was. I could be wearing a nun’s habit and he’d behave the exact same way. I hadn’t missed this part of my work environment.

  As much as I would have enjoyed pouting in the lobby bathroom and fantasizing that I was back with Nicholas, I was going to be late for my meeting if I didn’t get upstairs. It wouldn’t be a good idea to be late on my first day back in the office.

  “Good morning Jenna,” Oliver greeted me warmly when I knocked on his office doorframe a few minutes later. The corners of his eyes crinkled merrily. I had always thought Oliver looked a bit like a skinny Santa Claus with his long beard and little gold spectacles. “Welcome back. How was your trip?”

  “It was eventful and I wish I could tell you all about it,” I replied with a grin, “but you know that I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

  Oliver laughed merrily (just like Santa would). Skylark had insisted that only I knew about their Kathmandu lead. It was all so ridiculous.

  “That’s the spirit!” Oliver said, smiling a wide, toothy smile. “Did you get the thing?”

  He meant the affidavit that Nicholas had received the will.

  “I got the thing. It wasn’t easy, but I successfully got the thing,” I replied proudly, pulling it from my handbag and waving it back and forth. I got the other thing from Nicholas too (three times!), but my boss definitely didn’t need to know anything about that. Plus, I was trying to put that all behind me, even if I woke up each morning and looked for him on the other side of the bed.

  “That’s the most fantastic news I’ve heard all morning. Let’s go tell Richard right now,” Oliver said, already marching out from behind his desk and toward the executive suite around the corner. I followed as quickly as I could in my heels. Oliver was a notoriously fast walker. He claimed it was because he started out in politics. According to him, the reason politicians walked so quickly was to outrun reporters.

  We didn’t need to outrun any intrepid, fleet-footed reporters today, but we didn’t make it very far either. Richard’s secretary, Theresa, appeared from nowhere to block our way. She had a weird, psychic ability to predict whenever I got close to anything or anyone important and invariably seemed to ruin it. She frowned deeply at Oliver and me.

  “Mr. Durant is in a meeting right now,” she said firmly, imposing her tall, broad shouldered, stout figure in the middle of the hallway. “He told me he did not want to be interrupted when he’s in meetings with Mr. Quin.”

  “Ryan’s here?” Oliver replied gleefully, disarming Theresa with his obvious, ham-fisted charm. “That’s just perfect. He’s exactly the man we need to speak with. Did you set it up this way Theresa? Thank you. You always arrange Richard’s meetings so perfectly. This place would just grind to a screeching halt without you.”

  “Oh, well,” Theresa stuttered, flushing slightly and allowing herself to be flattered by Oliver. He was so obvious about his manipulations and little mind games that it was nearly impossible to ever be angry at him. Theresa didn’t seem to know what to say, and Oliver used that moment of indecision to pull me by the shirtsleeve and down the hallway past her.

  “Thanks again, Theresa,” Oliver said over his shoulder as we hustled to Richard’s office before she came to her senses, “You really are a gem.”

  Oliver barged straight into Richard’s office without knocking, pulling me in tow. Inside, Richard looked up from his desk, visibly shocked at the interruptio
n. A tall, handsome man with slicked back, black hair was sitting across from him. He must be Ryan Quin, the CEO of Skylark. To my surprise, they both smiled at Oliver’s appearance. I was definitely expected to be yelled at.

  “Ollie!” Ryan cried happily, “You look older every time I see you!”

  “I’m aging gracefully,” Oliver replied with a smirk, “just like Helen Mirren.”

  “Yeah, you and Helen Mirren are basically twins,” Richard said, rolling his eyes.

  The three of them clearly had a friendly guy thing going. I felt out of place.

  “Richard, Ryan,” Oliver said animatedly, remembering why we barged in here in the first place, “I’ve got some wonderful news. Jenna is back from her errand delivering the will to Nicholas.”

  Richard and Ryan exchanged a significant, silent glance.

  “Were you able to obtain the signed affidavit, or can you report that Mr. Durant is deceased?” Ryan asked me, rising and crossing the room to stand before me. His expression was serious. I could feel the weight of Richard’s eyes on me as well, although he remained silent and seated across the room.

  “I found him,” I said simply, extending the page out to Ryan.

  Ryan blinked in obvious shock, taking the sheet of paper out of my hand and staring at it intensely before looking back up at me. He was older than I’d initially guessed. He’d had some careful work done on his face, but he’d definitely had a lift here and there. I’d guess he was in his mid-sixties, but from ten feet away could pass for forty. Oliver’s comment about aging gracefully made a bit more sense now that I could see how hard Ryan was fighting his age.

  “Richard, take a look at this would you?” Ryan said next, swiveling around and crossing back to Richard’s desk.

  Richard looked at the piece of paper carefully. Then he raised an eyebrow at Ryan. Would they think I forged it? Why would I do such a thing?

  “She found him,” Richard said. He looked like he was fighting a satisfied smile. “That’s definitely Nicholas’ signature. His handwriting looks just like mine.”

  I didn’t understand what kind of game was being played in front of me at all. I looked at Oliver and he shrugged his shoulders slightly and widened his eyes behind his glasses. He didn’t appear know either.

  Whatever the deal was between Richard and Ryan, it looked like Richard had won. Ryan was frowning deeply, or at least as deeply as his Botox would allow.

  “Jenna—it was Jenna wasn’t it?” Ryan asked me, turning around again and coming nearer. He stood a shade too close, and his height required me to look up at him several inches. He extended a hand and I shook it warily. He used far too much pressure with his handshake. It was almost painful.

  “Yes,” I replied evenly, meeting his pale blue eyes. I’d met plenty of men who wanted to intimidate me in this business. Ryan would have to try harder if he wanted to scare me. “Jenna Masters.”

  “Jenna, are you jetlagged from your trip? Kathmandu is a long way away,” He asked me in an icy voice. He was smiling, but it wasn’t a nice smile. Across the room, Richard tensed.

  I shrugged and kept my expression as blank as I could. Was he trying to get me to tell him where I’d been? To violate the NDA Skylark insisted on? He was Skylark!

  “I went to yoga this morning,” I said, tilting my head at him politely and keeping my voice light and pleasant, “and it always makes me feel so great. There’s nothing like it in the world. If you ever get jetlag, I highly suggest it.”

  The idea of Ryan Quin doing yoga was hilarious. He seemed very tightly wound. A few shavassanas would probably do him some serious good.

  “Ryan,” Richard scolded, “don’t you try to trick her or intimidate her. Jenna’s a rising star here at Durant Industries. She’s one of our best. I don’t want you scaring her off.”

  I hadn’t thought that Richard even knew my name. In fact, up until this moment he’d done a fantastic job of pretending like I didn’t even merit a name. Still, the praise made me stand a little bit straighter. I must have done my job well. Richard looked very pleased.

  “Hrrmph,” was Ryan’s only response. Unlike Richard, Ryan didn’t look pleased at all. Ryan looked genuinely annoyed that I’d found Nicholas, and even more annoyed that I wouldn’t tell him where I’d found him.

  “Well at least we’re done with the will,” Richard said soothingly, “and can put that whole sad matter behind us. I for one am happy to put this all in the past and move forward.”

  “Hrrmph, I suppose you’re right about that,” Ryan said finally. He shook Richard’s hand, and then Oliver’s, nodded at me and departed. Ryan gave me the creeps.

  I had no idea about the subtext of what had just transpired. It felt like there was a second entire conversation that had passed by without my understanding any of it. And it was about to get worse.

  “Jenna,” Richard said, rising from his desk and leading me over to sit down in front of his desk, “I have to congratulate you on your successful assignment. Don’t worry about old Ryan. That’s just his unfortunate personality, but you handled it well. I’m glad to see my new VP of Research and Development isn’t a pushover.”

  “Sir?” I managed, feeling a flush spread over me like an unflattering rash. When I blush it turns my face the same color as my hair. It’s not a good look.

  “Didn’t Oliver tell you?” Richard said in surprise, and I shot a look over at Oliver who was now examining a picture on the wall with his back to me. “Well I’m glad he didn’t. I prefer to do promotions myself. I hardly ever get to deliver good news to employees.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Durant,” I said finally, getting my bearings back and smiling, “I’m very gratified and excited to take on this role.”

  “And we’re very excited to have you,” Richard said, “Now please, call me Richard. In the executive suite we’re much more informal.”

  “Well then thank you, Richard,” I said.

  This wasn’t how I thought this meeting was going to go, but I couldn’t think of a much better outcome.

  “So, tell me Jenna, where did you manage to find Nicholas?” Richard asked curiously, sitting back in his chair and regarding me seriously down his long nose.

  “You know I’m not allowed to tell you that,” I replied. I was perplexed. “It was in my NDA.”

  Richard stared at me for a moment and I wondered if he was going to push me into telling him. Was this what he meant by casual? Casual about promises? I cared about this job a lot. But not enough to break my word, or the law. I’d read and reread the NDA. It said all kinds of things about “perjury” and “penalties of law”. I didn’t want anything to do with that sort of stuff. Plus, lying is just wrong.

  “Quite right,” Oliver interjected, “Jenna’s very principled, Richard. You’ve got a really fine new VP. It will be hard for me to replace her in Emerging Markets.”

  Richard nodded, but still seemed slightly displeased. After a moment, however, he brightened and smiled pleasantly.

  “You’re absolutely right, Ollie. This is cause for celebration,” he said finally. “Nicholas has the will, Jenna has her promotion, and I just won a few points over Ryan and scored a great new VP. Let’s all have a drink.”

  Richard pulled a bottle of bourbon out from under his desk.

  It was only nine-thirty a.m. Clearly things were much more informal in the executive suite.

  16

  Nicholas

  “Harley, no!” I snapped before her long, slobbery tongue could reach the ice cream cone being held in the pudgy fist of a passing toddler. Harley looked up at me in confused irritation. She’d been so close. The kid giggled and smiled at Harley like she was happy enough to share, but her mother looked me up and down, shot a distrustful look at Harley, and quickly whisked the child away. The little girl waved at Harley as she was carried off, prompting Harley to wag her tail and try to follow.

  “Harley, no!” I repeated. She lay down unhappily next to me at the curb. The poor dog had barely heard anythin
g but ‘no’ all day long.

  People were everywhere around me. Like a pet store fish that had lived its entire life alone in a tiny bowl, I was unprepared to be added to an aquarium full of other fish. Oblivious to my anxiety, humanity flowed around me in waves and eddies, pausing only momentarily to gape at my giant dog. After five years in Alaska, I was wildly unprepared to be thrown back into the seething, noisy human soup of an airport.

  The one saving grace of the entire experience is that most people were afraid of me. At last that’s how I interpreted the wide berth that I was receiving from the swells of humanity drifting around me. In their possible defense, I did stand out.

  Most of the travelers around me were business people, college students, or young families. There were plenty of other men that were approximately my size and weight. And plenty of other men had beards (apparently, they had become quite fashionable in my absence). There were even plenty of other people with dogs—though not malamutes weighing it at well over a hundred pounds. It must have been the combination of factors that made people uneasy. Or it could have been the fact that I was scowling deeply.

  I was nervous. Although I believed that it was unlikely anyone could know I’d returned, it still felt risky to be home. As much as I wanted to convince myself that my trepidation was entirely due to my existential fears, my secret heart knew that there was fear over seeing Jenna again as well. My whole plan—my whole life may depend on her—a virtual stranger. I could only pray that she really was what she seemed. And that she would be happy to see me again.

  Every time I saw a woman with long red hair in the human sea around me, I caught my breath. It was never Jenna (she had no idea that I was here), but she’d so thoroughly invaded every corner of my brain that I saw her everywhere. Her possession of me was so complete that I’d dreamed of her each night since she’d left my cabin, only to awake alone, angry, and depressed the next day.