Little White Lies

by R. C. Matthews

  “It’s a compelling argument, but still not airtight,” she said. “As a lawyer I’d argue that you could have accessed a phone of an acquaintance on board or sweet talked a lady at concierge into using a few free minutes on the computer. And it still doesn’t explain who transferred the money and why. The board of directors is going to want answers. What do you think is going on here?”

  “I don’t know, but I intend to find out,” he said while drumming his fingers on the table. He was deep in thought as if trying to come to a difficult decision. “Madalyn, there’s something I haven’t told you yet.”

  He looked up and searched her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat. What was it that caused him to be so torn and conflicted about telling her?

  “I gave Mark my password to the research bank account before leaving on the cruise,” he admitted and then rubbed his face with his hands. “He’s my flesh and blood. I trusted him implicitly. I didn’t want anything standing in the way of making progress while I was gone. If we can get this drug approved and announced in conjunction with the IPO, just imagine our success. This was my father’s dream.”

  “But that would mean … ” Madalyn started.

  “Exactly!” Royce said, exhaling hard. “It would mean that my brother wire-transferred the money. The likelihood that an outsider breached the security walls of the bank is remote. But I have no way of proving it without admitting I breached company policy by providing him with my password. Even then, I can’t prove it. It would be my word against his. And I have a sick feeling that he and Mr. Daniels are in on this together. It could explain why Mr. Daniels was on the cruise. Was it a perk? That’s another reason why I said you could vouch for me. I wanted to throw them off, make them sweat a little while we try to figure this out.”

  “Why would Mark do that? It doesn’t make sense. He wants this IPO to be a success as well. How could he not? This is your family business,” Madalyn said, struggling to wrap her brain around the issue.

  “That’s the part I can’t figure out,” Royce said. “I’m going to have to confront him.”

  “Crap,” she said, putting on her attorney’s hat. “In the meantime, you need to find out how you were given access to both create and authorize a wire transfer. That may be the hard evidence you need to prove your innocence. Stacy was surprised you had the ability to create a wire transfer request. Is Mark close to someone in the IT department, someone who might do him a favor?”

  “I don’t know,” Royce said. “I guess it’s possible. Mark is a research guy. The term internal control means nothing to him. He probably wouldn’t have known that authorizing a change in my access rights would raise suspicion.”

  “Right now it’s your best hope,” Madalyn said.

  He nodded. “Hopefully, Stacy will uncover something soon. In the meantime, I’m going to ask Mark to meet me for dinner—shake him up a little with my evidence. Can you meet me back at my apartment tonight?”

  Madalyn nodded her head and stood up, pulling Royce out of his chair and into a long hug. “We’re going to figure this out, together.”

  Chapter Twenty – Shattered Dreams

  “Good timing,” Royce said, clapping his brother on the back when he walked through the door of Slows Bar-B-Q restaurant at the same time as the hostess called out Royce’s name. The place was packed as usual and buzzing with chatter from the patrons at the bar and seated throughout the establishment. It was the perfect location. No one would overhear their conversation and Mark was unlikely to storm out of a public place if things turned ugly. Royce had a gut feeling that it might get really ugly, really fast. He didn’t have the patience to go about this delicately. He wanted answers. And he wanted them now.

  The rich scent of pulled pork and barbeque sauce hung in the air, making Royce’s mouth water despite his determination to get down to business. Their waiter approached them within seconds of being seated to take their drink order. They ordered two beers on tap—Great Lakes Edmund Fitzgerald Porter—locally brewed and a favorite of theirs. When the waiter walked away, Royce leaned in to the table.

  “What the hell is going on Mark?” Royce said, glaring at his brother.

  “Hello to you too, big brother,” Mark said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk on his face. “To what, exactly, are you referring?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me.” Royce growled, pointing a finger at him. “You and I are the only two people with access to my password for the bank account. I didn’t make that bank transfer. So what’s your game?”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mark said nonchalantly, picking up his napkin and placing it gently on his lap. He shook his head back and forth with a face filled with regret. “You got yourself in quite a bind there, bro. Bribing a federal agent is a serious criminal offense, punishable by up to fifteen years in jail. I’m going to have to fill some big shoes when they come to carry you away, but I’m sure I can handle it.”

  What did that mean? Since when did Mark want to be CEO of the company? Is that what all this nonsense was about? Mark was happy as the head of research and development. The position was perfect for him and showcased his strengths. Something still didn’t add up. There must be more to it and Royce meant to find out. It was time to put the pressure on. The waiter returned with their drinks and took their food order—quick and efficient—just what Royce had planned on.

  “Well now,” Royce said, taking a sip of his beer and leaning casually back into his hair, “I wouldn’t be making plans to re-design my office just yet.”

  “All of the evidence points to you, Royce.” Mark said with a look of satisfaction on his face. He was enjoying their conversation. That much was clear.

  “Not all of it,” he said, watching his brother’s reaction intently. “You’re the one who authorized the change with IT to allow me to create a payment request; not the smartest move you’ve ever made. You should have dotted your I’s and crossed your T’s.”

  “Is that so?” Mark said. He lifted his brow and drank deeply from his cup. “I’d love to see the piece of paper proving I authorized it. It doesn’t exist.”

  “No,” Royce said in agreement. “It doesn’t. And do you know how I know that, Mark? I received a call from Stacy just moments before your arrival.” Royce paused and reached for his glass of beer. And then he took a large gulp, taking his time to let it wash down and letting Mark sweat it out.

  “The young woman in IT who processed your verbal request caved under Stacy’s questioning. She was devastated by the possibility that she might send an innocent man to jail—the CEO of her employer no less. She swore she had been following the verbal orders of one of the owners of the company. And we both know that owner was you!”

  Mark shifted in his seat but kept his voice calm. “It would be her word against mine. Circumstantial evidence at best!”

  “Not quite.” Royce wagged his finger at Mark. “You need to work on not being such a gentleman. She produced an email confirming she had made your verbal request, with your thoughtful response of thanks.” Royce hoped his little white lie came out convincing. While the IT assistant had confessed to having made the change on Mark’s verbal order, she was still in the process of searching her emails for any correspondence. It was pure conjecture on his part that she would actually produce such evidence.

  Mark blanched and his face turned an unfortunate shade of red.

  “You bastard!” Mark hissed, leaning into the table. “Go to hell! You’re not the rightful CEO of this company.”

  Royce’s brows furrowed at the vehemence exuding from his brother. What the hell was he talking about?

  “And you are?” Royce asked calmly, working hard to school his features.

  “Yes!” Mark spat. “You’re not even a Spencer! You’re some bastard kid—the result of a torrid love affair Mom had when Dad was breaking his balls trying to get this company off the ground. It’s about time you knew the fucking truth!”

  Bile rose to Royce’s mouth. T
here was such passion in Mark’s words. Those were the words of a man thoroughly convinced of their meaning. As sure as Royce was that he could smell a bullshit story from a mile away, he was equally sure that he could glean the truth when it was spoken. How was this possible?

  “When did you learn this?” Royce said, trying to recover from the shocking news long enough to get more details. His head was spinning. He fought to maintain his composure, his pride refusing to let Mark cut him down.

  “At the hospital,” Mark said. “Mom confessed it on Dad’s death bed. I had just arrived at the door to his room when she blurted it out, unable to let him die in peace, wanting to absolve her guilty conscience. The selfish bitch!”

  Mark drained his beer and slammed the glass down hard on the table, gaining the attention of the waiter to order another. “Dad was true to you till the end,” Mark hissed, bitterness oozing from his voice. “He refused to let her explain, said it didn’t matter, that he had raised you, claiming nothing she said would change the fact that he loved you as his son. He always preferred you. Royce this and Royce that—it’s all I ever heard our whole damned lives. And you weren’t even his flesh and blood!”

  Unbidden tears threatened to escape. When was the last time he had cried? He knew. It had been at his father’s funeral five years ago. Royce turned his face away, towards the wall, willing the torrent of emotions sweeping through him to subside long enough to allow him to make it through this hour and back to his car. How could this be happening?

  The waiter returned with their food and another round of beer. Royce was grateful for the mundane task of retrieving his utensils from his napkin and putting food to mouth, though he didn’t taste anything.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Royce asked, looking up from his plate, his voice hoarse with emotion.

  “Dad died minutes later,” Mark said and stared into his empty glass. He set it aside and reached for another glass of beer. “I demanded an explanation and Mom caved, only too happy to confess the ugly truth to me to lighten her guilt. I wanted to be named CEO immediately but she refused, convinced that you were the better man for the job and claiming I was too young at 27 years old.”

  “Why didn’t you come to me or go to the board?” Royce probed. He wanted to understand how things had gone so awry.

  “You’re joking, right?” Mark said disgusted. “I didn’t have any evidence. Would you have ordered a paternity test—taken a sample from your dead father’s corpse when your mother vigorously denied it? I think not!”

  Mark made a valid point. Would Royce have believed him five years ago when his father had died? If he was truthful with himself, probably not. Was it the fact that his brother had resorted to blackmail that gave merit to his story? Probably.

  “And this is why you’re bribing the FDA agent to frame me for bribery?” Royce confirmed. “So you can take over your rightful place as CEO of the company our father … ” he paused and cleared his throat to allow the painful words to pass, “ … your father built?”

  “You’re a sharp tool, Royce,” Mark said, staring at him with contempt.

  “It all makes more sense now,” Royce said, finally discovering the truth to questions for which he had long stopped searching for answers. “I thought you had pulled away emotionally after Dad’s death as a coping mechanism. And your thinly veiled contempt at times for our mother, it was because of this?”

  “You’ve figured it all out now, brother,” he said. “What’re you going to do about it to make this right?”

  “I don’t know,” Royce said, throwing a few twenties on the table and standing to leave. He needed time to think.

  • • •

  Madalyn stepped out of the elevator and into the sound of shouts coming from Royce’s apartment. The door suddenly jerked open and Mrs. Spencer stepped through the threshold, her face wet with tears, her body trembling from her sobs.

  “Royce, please,” she begged, wiping her hand across her face. But her pleas fell on deaf ears. His demeanor was so distant he could have been speaking with a telemarketer.

  “I want you to leave now,” he said. His voice was hard and unfeeling. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

  Madalyn stood quietly as Mrs. Spencer brushed past her, rushing to catch the elevator before it closed. That was awkward. Her heart went out to Mrs. Spencer; she knew what it felt like to be on the other end of Royce’s anger and it didn’t feel particularly good. She struggled to understand what would cause Royce to be so angry with his own mother.

  Royce grabbed Madalyn’s hand and led her directly into his bedroom, undressing her without saying a word, worshiping her with his eyes and hands. She made quick work of his clothes and within minutes they were tumbling about his bed, a mass of heated emotions. She poured all of herself into their love making, silently giving him whatever he needed, recognizing his need to escape from whatever news he had gleaned from his family.

  Even in his state of desperation, Royce was a skilled and generous lover. Madalyn cried out in pleasure together with him and collapsed on the bed, her breathing labored and her body glistening with perspiration. He laid his head on her chest. She felt the moisture of his tears before she saw his body shudder. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer into her bosom. She let him cry, her own tears stinging at her eyes. It must be really bad news.

  They lay in that position for a very long time. She ran her hand lovingly through his thick hair, over and over, hoping the rhythmic gesture was soothing. At length, he leaned up on one elbow and kissed her tenderly on the lips, before sitting up to face her with his shoulders slumped and his head held in his hands.

  “I’m resigning as CEO,” he said in an utterly defeated voice. The pain of his statement was evident in his whole demeanor.

  What the hell was going on?

  “Absolutely not!” Madalyn said, rejecting the idea immediately and sitting up straight to confront him. “Christ, Royce. What happened?”

  “My mother is a cheating whore!” Royce said and winced at the sound of the harsh words spoken aloud. “My name should not be Spencer. I don’t have a right to the company. I’m the bastard child of a one-night stand my mother had early in her marriage.”

  Madalyn could only stare, mouth wide-open like a frog in Mayfly season. Her brain lost vital function as she tried to take in what Royce had said. Was she trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up? If she felt this way, then how must Royce feel at that moment?

  “At least now I understand why Mark distanced himself after his father’s death,” Royce said. He relayed the whole story from the meeting at Slows with his brother, Mark, to the confirmation from his mother’s visit. No wonder Royce had kicked his mother out of his apartment. The pain was too fresh. Had she revealed who his biological father was?

  “All of these years I have revered the marriage of my parents and looked to it as the perfect example of what every couple should strive to achieve,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “I don’t understand how my mother could have done that and kept it secret for years. They were always so happy and in love. Was it just a façade? Does it even matter now? Mark is the rightful owner of Innovare Incorporated, so I’m going to do what is right and step down from the CEO position. ”

  Madalyn’s heart ached for Royce. He could try to justify his intent with this nonsense about Mark being the rightful owner, but she knew the truth. Mr. Spencer had been Royce’s entire universe, the rock that formed the foundation of his existence. Royce wouldn’t even refer to him as “father’ anymore. The devastating pain coursing through him was surely incomprehensible to Madalyn. But there were two things she knew for certain: Mr. Spencer had loved Royce as a father loves a son, and he would not have wanted Royce to step down from his position as CEO!

  “Oh, Royce,” Madalyn said, climbing into his lap, and facing him with her legs wrapped around his torso. He needed to understand and accept that no matter what, his father had loved him unconditionally, as a father does
a son. What could she say to help him see that?

  “Please, don’t do this, Royce.” she begged. “Blood alone does not build the bond of love and respect between a parent and a child. Millions of loving relationships exist between adults and adopted children in this world. You must know that and acknowledge it to be true.”

  “But I wasn’t adopted,” Royce sighed and leaned his forehead down on hers. He sounded forlorn. “I was forced on my father. He didn’t have a choice. What if he didn’t want me as his son?”

  “Royce, stop thinking with your head,” Madalyn urged, “and listen to your heart. You heard what Mark said. Your father loved you till the end. Your father didn’t care that you weren’t from his loins; he cherished the beauty of a loving relationship with a child, his child. Your relationship was real and no one can take that from you!”

  She leaned back to gaze deeply into Royce’s eyes and wondered if she was getting through to him. “Did you not feel the same way for him? Was he less of a father for the fact that his blood did not run through your veins? Is that what you would say to him if he was standing here now?”

  Royce turned away, unable to face her. She brought her finger to his chin and forced him to look at her. “If he was standing here now, would you reject him when he so lovingly embraced you?”

  Fat tears rolled down Royce’s cheeks and she knew that he had grasped the truth of her words, accepting that he had been loved by the one man that had meant the world to him. A huge weight lifted off her chest.

  “Thank you, my love,” Royce said, holding her close and kissing her hair. He rocked with her in his arms, silently contemplating her words. “Yes, of course you’re right. My father loved me and I him. I won’t let Mark take that away from me.”