Letters From The Ledge

by Meyers, Lynda

  “Laugh if you want. You know it’s the truth, I’m just choosing to say it out loud. The promotion is your freedom–the ability to make your own way so you can start going after the things you really want out of life. It’s time to come out from under your parents’ expectations. These are the things a man faces, not a boy, and it’s time for you to step up.”

  The mocking smile was gone. Brendan’s face was sober and afraid. “Does that mean you’ll give me a job?”

  “I gave you the conditions, and I can see that you’re trying. If you come back in August and you still want it, then I’m prepared to honor my offer.”

  Brendan was quiet for a long time.

  Nate came around the desk to shake his hand and held on longer than necessary. He looked Brendan in the eye. “You can do this. You can fly solo.”

  It was slightly unorthodox, given the situation, but he just couldn’t help it. He pulled Brendan into an embrace and patted him on the back. The boy was stiff, but he didn’t pull away until Nate did. By then he was fighting for composure.

  Nate looked him in the eye, smiling, trying to tell him even more with his eyes than he had with his words. “Good luck on your trip. Europe is amazing! See it all – or at least, as much of it as you can!”

  “I will.”

  “Wait!” Nate reached for his wallet. He pulled out a business card, and scribbled his cell number on the back. “The work number on the card you have forwards right to my cell, but here’s the number if you just want to call me direct. I…wouldn’t mind the occasional update.”

  “Thanks. I’ll try.” Brendan took the card and walked out.

  __________

  Monday mornings were always a bear, but never so draining as when Nate had to start with a meeting like this one. He arrived at the Park Avenue address at twenty after eight, enough time to shoot the breeze with the doorman and the desk clerk and the elevator attendant before ringing the bell at the top.

  Wilson met him at the door with a grin that was immediate. The elderly man had been with the family longer than Nate had been alive, and had seen to much of Nate’s education and upbringing. The old man was slightly bent with age, but still towered over Nate’s six foot frame. He was quickly pulled into a hug.

  “Nathan, my boy! So good to see you!”

  Nate’s hug was generous in return. “You too Wilson. How’ve you been?”

  “Can’t complain.” Wilson looked around him and into the hallway. “I see you’ve chosen to deny an old man the privilege of enjoying a little extra beauty. Where is she?”

  “Working, I’m afraid, as we all must to make our living.”

  Wilson eyed him knowingly. “You’re a good man, Nathan. I’m so proud of you.” He glanced at his watch and patted Nate on the back. “You’d better get in there. Daria’s waffles wait for no man.”

  “Don’t I know it!”

  Nate stepped fully into the foyer and the sights and smells of his past assaulted him with little regard for his absence. He took a deep breath to steel himself and Wilson’s hand appeared again on his shoulder, infusing a strength he required but didn’t know he needed. He looked over at the man who’d been more of a father to him than his own flesh and watched Wilson’s eyes soften and gleam.

  No further words were spoken, but realization struck in their place. He’d made it all this time and distance, not entirely of his own accord, but at least in part because of an angel, sent in the form of a gentle giant. Nate smiled weakly at Wilson, whose eyes once again took on the professional demeanor of a man’s man. It was time to go in.

  The dining room was graciously appointed with an abundance of crystal and gold and silver pieces, all polished and nearly blinding in their obvious overpowering presence. The home of a jeweler who had spent his life traveling far and near to acquire the best of the precious was likewise surrounded. Rare antiques and artifacts had found their way into the cabinets and breakfronts, rounding out the opulence and giving the entire room the air of a palace, whose king and queen were seated at opposite ends of the table. The place that was set for Nate was at the center of one side, ironically equidistant from either of them.

  He walked toward them with more confidence than he felt. “Good morning!”

  His father set down his copy of The Journal and stood to greet his son, holding out a hand that was firmly shaken in return. “Nathan.”

  Nate simply nodded. The handshake was a mere formality. His mother remained seated and he walked over to where she was and put his cheek next to hers so that her lips could pretend to touch it. “Mother.”

  Lucinda Banks smiled through bright red lipstick and began to bubble over. “Darling how are you? And what on earth keeps you away from us so much? It’s been simply ages since we’ve seen you!”

  Nate took his seat at the table while Wilson quietly laid a napkin across his lap and then stepped into the background. Daria came out and poured his coffee, leaving a pitcher of cold cream and two lumps of sugar next to his plate. “Work’s been busy, mother. And I was in Switzerland briefly.”

  “Oh! Switzerland!” Lucinda’s hands went to her chest. “I just love Switzerland! Tell me you didn’t go to Bern!”

  “As a matter of fact, I did.” He looked at his father. “You’ll be happy to know the bears are still alive and well.”

  His father’s deep laugh rumbled up from his chest. “You’re kidding me! God, that seems like yesterday. What were you, nine or ten?”

  “I think so, yes. Ten I believe.”

  Daria served the waffles and placed a large dish of fresh blueberries in front of Nate, along with freshly whipped butter and cream.

  “Daria, you’re spoiling me!”

  “And why shouldn’t I spoil you? Are you or are you not the future master of this house?”

  Nate declined an answer and instead simply thanked her for her kindness. She blushed and waved him off with her hand as she backed through the swinging door into the kitchen. The waffles were better than he’d ever had in Belgium proper. They were crisp without being dry, and her butter and cream were homemade and out of this world. She always used a touch of anise and although it had seemed strange at first, now it just tasted like home.

  Although several years had passed since he’d lived in this house, some things felt eerily familiar, as if they were grafted into his skin and bones, things he couldn’t shake without losing his own shape or identity. He swallowed, used his napkin, and finally broke the silence.

  “Paige sends her regards. She’s in the middle of a big project for an important client and couldn’t break away this morning.”

  His father looked up from the newspaper. “Oh? Anyone I know?”

  “Frank Evans.” Nate watched recognition turn to disdain on his father’s face.

  The older man put his newspaper down. “Now how on earth did a nice girl like Paige get mixed up with–” He stopped himself and took a sip of his coffee. “With Frank?”

  Nate smiled. This was going to be easier than he thought. “He’s a new client to her firm. Frank is–” Nate chose his words carefully. “–trying to improve his image. He wants me to help him as well. To…reinvent himself–or at least, his marketing strategy.”

  Gregory Banks looked as if his coffee had been laced with bitters. “Well. All I can say is, it’s about time. Especially after this latest faux pas.”

  Lucinda spoke up. “Could we not talk about work please? I want to hear more about Paige! When are the two of you going to make things official?”

  Her words caught him in the gut. He shook his head and tried to smile without making eye contact. His father’s eyes darted toward him. “I’m working on it.”

  Lucinda rang the bell for more coffee. “Well work harder, would you? I’m not getting any younger, and I’d like to be a grandmother while I can still walk without assistance!”

  Nate laughed. “I know, mother. You’ve got a lot of spoiling left in you.”

  “If it’s a girl I can introduce her to hig
h tea, and if it’s a boy we’ll take him to the club and…”

  Nate was quick to interrupt her. “You would think that a woman as lovely as you would hate the thought of being a grandma.”

  Lucinda waved him off. “Oh please! All my friends are already grandmothers Nathan. They get to shop for them and parade them around the club and I’ve got nothing!”

  The thought of any of his offspring being subjected to the same kind of public humiliation he’d endured was absolutely nauseating. The thought that this would be something his mother would aspire to was even worse. It only renewed Nate’s drive to get Paige out of the city and settled somewhere–anywhere but New York. “Can we talk about something else?”

  “How’s business, son?” His father’s paper was in front of his face, but that never meant he wasn’t listening.

  “Going very well, thanks. I’ve got a full staff–even work some of them on the weekends when we get busy.”

  “Good, good.”

  A longer relative silence ensued, complete with the requisite clinking of forks and dabbing of chins with napkins. Finally Nate couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Paige and I are going to Barbados in a few weeks.”

  Lucinda frowned. “Oh honey, the weather will be terrible then. You should’ve gone earlier this month. It’s getting way too hot.”

  “We tried. It…didn’t work out so well.”

  His father looked up again. “What do you mean, it didn’t work out?”

  Nate looked his father in the eye. “Paige’s current client insisted that she personally finish some specific projects, and she wasn’t…allowed to take her vacation.”

  Understanding dawned in his father’s eyes and they began the slow burn that Nate knew would be in full flame by the time they reached the library. All he had to do was get through the rest of breakfast.

  Daria came out and tried to put more waffles on his plate. “No no no! No you don’t! You think it’s easy keeping my girlish figure? If I eat anymore I’m going to be at the gym all night!”

  “You don’t scare me!” she scolded. “I washed your diapers, young man. You’ll eat what you’re told.”

  Nate smiled warmly at the old woman. “I’m a grown man now, Daria. And if I get big and fat then Paige might throw me out and you just might be washing my diapers again!”

  She turned her nose up in the air and plopped the waffles on his plate despite his protests. “Well, that’ll be fine by me.”

  She walked back into the kitchen with a triumphant smile. You didn’t leave food on Daria’s plates. If she served it, you ate it or you got the lecture about how she’d survived famine in Eastern Europe.

  Nate struggled through the last two waffles then threw his napkin on the plate before she could come out again. His mother excused herself to go to a hair appointment and kissed the air next to his cheek when he stood up.

  “It’s been lovely seeing you Nathan. Now don’t be a stranger, dear. And bring Paige with you next time!”

  “I will.”

  As soon as Lucinda left his father dropped the newspaper. “Finally.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “Wilson, we’ll have some more coffee in the library.”

  Wilson’s eyes were fixed on a spot on the opposite wall. “Excellent, sir.”

  The two men retired to the library and Nate had barely closed the door before his father started the questioning.

  “This meeting you’ve called is about Frank Evans, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. It is.”

  “What’s that blood-sucking mosquito done now?”

  Nate’s eyebrows went up. “Why don’t you tell me how you really feel?”

  “Don’t play games with me son. Tell me what he’s done. Did he cheat you?”

  “No. This isn’t about me. It’s about Paige.”

  “What was that about her not being allowed to take a vacation? Doesn’t her boss have anything to say about that?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  The elder Mr. Banks sat down at his desk and opened his cigar box, pushing it toward Nate, who shook his head slightly. “Too early for me.”

  “Suit yourself.” His father lit a cigar and leaned back in his chair. “I’m listening.”

  Nate sat down in an overstuffed brown leather club chair. “Evans and Associates hired Paige’s firm to clean up his act after his…latest indiscretion.”

  “You mean the accountant who made off with half his assets?”

  “That’s the one.” Nate smiled gratefully. “Anyway, Paige’s firm has a huge reputation for quality and integrity, and that was exactly the face Frank needed to put on, so he did.”

  His father nodded.

  “Paige got pulled off of all her other projects and was told to concentrate specifically on making Frank into a happy customer.”

  “Who would then throw other big clients their way.”

  “Exactly. But Frank doesn’t play by the rules. He puts Paige on his payroll, makes it look for all intents and purposes as if she works for him, and then starts treating her that way.”

  It was his father’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “And how did Paige take to that?”

  Nate shook his head. “Not very well.”

  Gregory smiled. “I should think not.”

  Nate returned his grin and continued. “I probably don’t have to tell you about Frank’s reputation with women.”

  “Oh no. I’m well aware. The man is about as discreet as a porcupine in a balloon factory.”

  “And Paige is no pushover. Not anymore, anyway.” Nate looked carefully up at his father, whose smile had faded. “You never told mom, did you?”

  “You asked me not to.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Gregory met his eyes, then looked away. “How has she been?”

  “It’s not an easy road.”

  “And yet, you took the ring to Switzerland? To the bridge?”

  Nate thought about all they’d walked through; about how much of the road still stretched out before them. His father had been privy to the story the first time around, after the attack, but all he knew about Switzerland was that Nate had asked for the ring out of the vault.

  Nate shook his head. “It’s not time yet.”

  His father nodded once. His eyes were warm and understanding, and it threw Nate off guard. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, Frank doesn’t like the fact that she isn’t an easy conquest, so he’s threatening her in other ways.”

  “What other ways?”

  “Like blacklisting her and her firm if she doesn’t do exactly what he wants.”

  Gregory Banks leaned forward, and pulled the cigar from his teeth. “And what exactly does he want?”

  “Hell if I know! That’s what I don’t get. She found the holes. She got to the bottom of his accounting mess and helped design a system that’ll ensure he doesn’t get taken like that again. She’s gone above and beyond at every turn, but with Frank it’s not about the job, it’s about the power. She’s essentially done with the job her firm was hired for, but he keeps making up reasons for her to keep working. I just don’t see how or why it should matter to him, if she’s done the thing he hired her for.”

  “Maybe he didn’t hire her for the accounting.”

  Nate’s head shot up. “What?”

  “You said it yourself. Why should it matter so much to him? Why make such a big deal out of it?”

  “For the power trip, I guess.”

  “Really? It’s got to be bigger than that.”

  Nate could tell his father knew the answer to the question, but was trying to get him there on his own. “Bigger than what? Bigger how?”

  “Bigger than him.”

  Nate thought about that. What could be bigger than Frank? He looked at his father with frustration. “I don’t get it.”

  “Maybe Frank’s not calling the shots.”

  “Well if he’s not, then who is?”

  “You’d be surprised how many men are out there–ri
ch men–powerful men, that depend on manipulation and blackmail as the mainstays of their business practice. Considering what you’ve told me, maybe he’s got pressure from other sides. Let’s just say he hasn’t always associated with the cleanest group of businessmen.”

  Nate raked a hand back through his hair. “God, why didn’t I think of that?”

  Gregory Banks laughed his deep, rumbling laugh again. “Because then you wouldn’t need your old man.”

  Nate crossed one arm over his chest and let his elbow rest on it, swiping his other hand across his face as he thought about it. “Birds of a feather, eh?”

  “Especially the dirty ones.”

  “Still, what does Paige have to do with it? Why should she matter?”

  “She doesn’t. Like you said, with Frank it’s all about power. And it’s highly likely he’s got something to hide, which is why he’s threatened by Paige’s abilities. Sounds like she may have done her job a little too well. Maybe Frank’s nervous that she knows too much, so he’s going to make sure she won’t talk.”

  The thought landed with some authority in the pit of Nate’s stomach. Maybe the sexual innuendo was just a small part of the game. Nate’s assessment had been too shallow. It wasn’t really sex he was after, that was just the front end. Frank’s game was much deeper, and much more sinister. “So what do we do?”

  “I don’t know. It’s a tricky proposition. Paige’s best bet is to do her job and turn a blind eye to everything Frank wants to keep hidden. God help her if she finds something and then tries to use it against him.”

  “Even if it seems her boss will do anything to keep Frank as a client?”

  “The last thing that company needs is to take on more clients like Frank. They’ll lose their reputation in a hurry. If that’s the direction her boss is heading, she’d do well to just leave quietly. Let her come work for me! I’ve got lots of room for fresh young talent.”

  “And let Frank win?”

  “You can’t fight men like Frank, Nathan. Too many have tried. Most of them have ended up at the bottom of the Hudson, which is where Frank’s last accountant is, I’m certain.”

  “But it’s not right!” Nate disagreed.

  His father slapped the desk. “Nathan, damn your sense of integrity! It’s always been your undoing. This is business. You can’t save the world, you just have to play by its rules.”