Night Magic

by Emery, Lynn

*****

  As he waited to meet with Claude Trosclair and Singleton, he could not help but think about Savannah. He had asked for and received her trust. How was he going to explain accepting Trosclair’s offer?

  “Good to have you aboard, Honorè. That ought to silence the damn environmentalist.” Kyle Singleton slapped Paul on the shoulder. His back turned, he was oblivious to the effect of his words.

  “Really?” Paul frowned.“Yeah. You’re Black and, even better, got kind of a reputation for being a liberal. I mean that work you did with that Earth Conservatory group a couple of years back. To be honest, I was skeptical when Claude first told me. But he was right as usual.” Singleton poured coffee into a black mug with the company name printed in gold letters.

  “So, hiring me is for window dressing.” Paul started to rise. A restraining hand on his shoulder guided him back into the leather conference chair.

  “As usual, Kyle proves that he has more skills as president of a company than as a diplomat. Relax. I was honest when I said your credibility with environmentalist would be an asset. But as we have already shown, any recommendations you make will be given serious consideration. Look at how we implemented several here at Big River.” Claude sat beside him.

  “Now, wait a minute. I didn’t mean to imply that we hired you for show. But let’s face it, image is critical in business. Hell, we got a couple of Black guys in our commercials.” Singleton blustered.

  “Kyle, be quiet.” Claude spoke in that same controlled voice he had used with his wife. “What he’s trying to convey, quite ineptly, is that we are sensitive to the issues the African-American community has raised. Of course, Batton Chemical is committed to being in the forefront of the trend towards working with environmentalists. We want to have a diverse team to make sure all views are considered. Safety is good business.” Claude explained smoothly.

  “Nice save. My mama didn’t raise no fools, Mr. Trosclair. I know I’m useful to you. I’ll be just as honest and say I have every intention of making sure you live up to those words, whether you mean them or not.”

  Laughing, Claude put his arm around Paul’s shoulders. “Young man, we are going to make a great team.”

  Paul left the office, copies of the contract in his leather portfolio. He was concentrating on the questions he would ask his attorney and the answers he would have for Savannah when he saw Quentin emerge from the adjoining office suite.

  “You don’t have what it takes to deal with an operation as big this one, Honorè. And it won’t take long for that to be obvious.” Quentin stood several feet away, arms folded.

  “Wrong again, Einstein. I’ve been handling big jobs since I was in college.”

  “I’m going to be watching every move you make. One mistake and I’ll be all over you. Forget trying to sabotage us to help your little lawyer girlfriend and her old man.”

  “Anything I do will be done well and honestly. Seems your grandfather thinks so, or else I don’t think he would have hired us.” Opening the door to his truck, Paul threw the portfolio on the passenger side of the seat.

  “My grandfather is an old fool. He won’t be in charge much longer, so don’t get to comfortable with that contract.”

  “You think so? He looks pretty healthy to me. Besides, isn’t Singleton next in line when it comes to running things?” Paul raised a mocking eyebrow.

  “You just wait and see who’ll be giving orders. Don’t kid yourself it could ever be you.”

  “Hum, I hadn’t thought of that, but now that you mention it your grandfather does seem to be a man who promotes on ability. If you’re my competition, I’ve got it made.” Paul smiled, bearing his teeth.“What does that mean?” Quentin flushed a deep red.

  “It means he knows what I can do. What have you done lately?” In anger Paul, took a random poke at a possible weak spot. He struck a raw nerve.

  “I’ll see you in hell first, you black bastard. Before I’m through, you or that piece of brown sugar of yours won’t own a pot to piss in, much less a business.” Quentin jabbed a finger in Paul’s chest.

  For several seconds, Paul looked at the finger. With one quick motion, he slammed his fist into Quentin’s jaw knocking him down. Paul stood over him, waiting for him to get up. Quentin pushed himself to one knee. Cursing he started to rise, but hesitated when he looked into Paul’s eyes.“Don’t ever touch me again, and she’s Ms. St. Julien to you.” Paul spoke through clenched teeth, every muscle strained at the effort to keep from punching him again.

  Quentin backed away from him holding his face. Singleton and another male employee come outside. Singleton tried to help Quentin to his feet, but was brushed away.

  “This isn’t over! You hear me? You’re going to pay for this! You’re going to be nothing when I finish with you, nothing!”

  “Don’t be an even bigger idiot than you already have been. Now get up,” Claude snarled. Stepping around Singleton he threw his grandson a look of disgust.

  “He attacked me for no reason. I’m going to press charges.” Quentin spoke in a whining voice.

  “Knowing you, there was probably sufficient provocation. Now stop your whimpering and go back inside.”

  Paul climbed behind the wheel. Glancing back just before he drove away, he saw an obviously angry Quentin trying to speak to Claude. His grandfather walked past him into the building without a word or look in Quentin’s direction.

  *****

  Claude sat in the library listening to Chopin, a glass of brandy at his elbow. His head tilted back, eyes closed he was lost in the music. As the last strains of a lovely concerto died away, he raised the glass to his lips. He looked up to find Quentin standing in the doorway. Sighing deeply, he crossed the room to the antique bar for a refill. Quentin came into the room, a tall glass already in his hand.

  “I see you don’t need a drink.” Claude still had his back turned.

  “No, indeed. I’m doing very well, thank you.” Quentin took a long swallow of the amber liquid.

  “Humph.” Claude went back to his chair.

  Quentin paced restlessly for several minutes, fingering with his grandfather’s collection of antique glass paper weights arranged on a nineteenth century lady’s writing desk that had belonged to Claude’s great-grandmother. He crossed to the window to stare out into the darkness, and then began another circuit of the room. When the music stopped, Claude got up to change the record on the old-fashioned phonograph.

  “Why do you bother with that old thing? Digital music files have a much better sound,” Quentin said. He was slumped on one of the small sofas.

  “This old thing as you call it is a fine example of workmanship. I enjoy operating it, watching the precision movement as it operates so smoothly after so many years. Besides, part of the pleasure in having this wonderful collection is choosing which selection I’ll listen to next.““Something you can so just as well with a digital player. Really, doing the same things you done for years isn’t always the damn virtue you make it out to be. Tradition? Just another way of saying you can’t adjust to change.” Quentin gulped more of the drink.

  “I don’t think we’re talking about my phonograph anymore, are we?” Claude crossed his legs. Leaning back in his favorite chair, he was relaxed.

  “Why are we poking along with this new plant? The process of creating slag for use in road beds and building foundations is brand new. Which means that there is no track record that says it’s unsafe. We’ve got customers lined up because we can provide they product the need at one third the cost.”

  “True. It may take another ten years or longer for the health effects to really be known. But it may not be completely safe.”

  “The tests have shown no leaching under test conditions.”

  “So it doesn’t bother you that over time it could be hazardous?” Claude gazed at his grandson wearing a slight smile.

  “No, and you don’t care either. Before this Paul Honorè showed up you were willing to do whatever it took to get this
plant fully operational. His report is nothing new and you know it. And why are you lapping up everything word he says. I’m sick of him. We don’t know enough about him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s been feeding information to those damn protesters.” Phillip’s jaw tightened. Noticing that his glass was empty, he went to the bar. He searched for several seconds before finally settling on scotch.

  “You’re right. I don’t give a damn about all this whining over the environment. Those people do more to pollute this planet than most industries. But Paul Honorè is no fool. I’ve investigated his background thoroughly, professional and private life. I know quite a lot about him.” Claude paused to stare ahead thoughtfully before continuing.”

  “And?” Quentin growled, impatient for him to continue.

  “And he’s right that the politicians have begun to take note of how many voters blame big business for dirty air and water. Caution will not cost us as much in the long run. Besides, he can be very useful. A really sharp young man.““As usual you don’t think my advice worth much. Some— two bit engineer with a degree from a one of those under funded colleges shows up and you hang on his every word. I don’t think you feel comfortable with the techniques, new ways of doing business.” Quentin snapped.

  “Oh, I see.”

  “We need to move aggressively, fast. While you hold hands with Honorè, trying to please every local crackpot with a gripe, most of whom can barely read, some other company could move ahead. Now I would take the reports we have and move up our timetables. Make the plant fully operational, and profitable, and the objections would get drowned out.”

  “I’m a bit too slow, am I?”

  “The way you’ve always done things isn’t relevant anymore. This is a new market that’s wide open. With all the publicity, some other company will see the opportunity and seize it while you’re still sipping tea with Honorè.” Quentin failed to notice the steely look in his grandfather’s eyes. He spoke as though he were alone. “Batton Chemical could soon be as much of a relic as the dinosaurs if something isn’t done to bring it out of the stone age.”

  “And you are the man to do it I suppose?”

  “If you stop making me feel like some incompetent kid you have to watch every minute. Yes, I have plenty of ideas that could get us on the right track.”

  “How interesting you should mention my having to watch you every minute. There was the time I sent you to Dallas, remember? You insulted some of the best staff, slept with the wife of one of my most valued executives who promptly jumped ship taking valuable information with him to our chief competitor, and production fell by ten percent when you decided you could step into his shoes. Then there was the fiasco in Atlanta when you decided that Williams, one of the top contract negotiators working for me, was moving too slow. You met with Argentineans without him and they walked away with a wonderful deal, at our expense. A deal we couldn’t get out of without losing our shirts even more.” As Claude spoke, his voice took on the sharp edge of a scalpel. With each word, he carved his grandson down inch by inch until Quentin seem to physically shrink under the onslaught.

  “There already were staff problems in Dallas, I told you. I was making head way before you stopped me. Sharpton’s wife had slept with half the office anyway. Atlanta wasn’t my fault, I tried to work with Williams but he—” Quentin’s voice became strained.

  “You would be unemployed if I held you to the same standards I set for my other employees. Now let’s get this straight, you’re vice president of `do as you’re told’, you understand? When I want your opinion, I’ll tell you what it is. I have been cleaning up your messes since you were fourteen and sadly, you haven’t learned anything from your numerous mistakes. At least your father had the guts to try to make it on his own.” Claude snorted in disgust, not even looking at Quentin.

  “My father would be alive if you hadn’t tried to run his life. You might as well have put a gun to his head.“Claude whirled around grabbing the front of Quentin’s shirt with both hands, pulling him close. Claude spoke with such intensity his whole body shook.

  “Don’t ever speak to me like that again or I’ll beat you to a pulp, and then throw you out on the street without a penny.”

  “Claude, let him go. Please, he’s your grandson.” Annadine stood in the room wringing her hands.

  “Get out of my sight,” Claude said through clenched teeth releasing him.

  Quentin backed towards his grandmother, rubbing his neck. His breath came in ragged gasps, lips trembling with the effort not to cry. He opened his mouth several times, but seeing the look on Claude’s face said nothing. Annadine put her arms around his shoulders. Quentin faced her.

  “Let go of me.” He shook free of her hold and ran down the hall. After a few minutes, the door slammed and the roar of an engine could be heard.

  “At least he didn’t snivel to you this time. That’s some small improvement.” Claude sat down. Smoothing his hair in place, he reached for his glass.

  “How can you say such horrible things? He’s always been a sensitive boy. Losing his parents so young had such a devastating effect on the poor child. You should be more sympathetic to him.”

  “His mother was a spoiled selfish brat who taught him nothing but how to whine for whatever he wanted, his father a silly dreamer who spent time digging in dirt for centuries old garbage. But then I always thought he went on those long trips as much to escape her constant complaining as to discover some new civilization. At least for that I can’t blame him.”

  “Vivian was used to the finer things in life and came from such an old, wealthy family. And Louis had a brilliant career ahead of him in archeology, his professor said so.”

  “Spare me the fiction, my dear. The only career either one of them worked at was drinking expensive liquor until they were too drunk to see straight and partying all night with their equally fatuous friends.”

  “Louis wanted your approval so much. If only you could have been more understanding.”

  “As usual you make excuses. I tried to teach them to be men and you baby them. Encouraging Louis with that archaeology nonsense.”

  “But it was what he wanted.”

  “He was young. He didn’t know anything about what he wanted. You encouraged every silly notion that came into his head. Just as you’ve done with Quentin. Every time he’s done something, no matter how reprehensible, you blame everyone else. I would have thought you would have learned something over the years.”

  “Claude, please don’t say that. I’ve done the very best I could.”

  “Yes, a pity isn’t it?” Claude put on another recording. Turning the music up, he sat down and closed his eyes.

  With a strangled sob, Annadine stumbled from the room. Slowly, she climbed to the stairs to her bedroom. A separate bedroom on the other end of the long hall opposite her husband’s.

  *****

  LaShaun wandered around the large living room pausing occasionally to admire a piece of furniture or art work. Most of these things she had selected. Going to the window, she gazed at the scenery below. From the fourth floor apartment, the view of the French Quarter was quite lovely. The best in Spanish architecture could be seen in the buildings with ornate iron work gracing the balconies, enclosed courtyards concealing well-kept gardens with water fountains. She tightened the sash on the expensive satin robe she wore. Alive with lush tropical flowers in vibrant yellow, blue, and purple, it was a gift. One more indulgence she insisted on as proof that her control was complete. She heard rustling in the bedroom, then the sound of running water. Sighing, she went into the kitchen to pour two cups of coffee from the pot.

  “Morning.” Quentin mumbled as he took the offered mug from her.

  “Sorry, baby. It’s afternoon now, one o’clock to be exact.” She stretched out on the large sofa.

  “Whew, some party.” Quentin blinked painfully in the bright coming through the large windows. The elegant drapes had been pulled back.

  “You could s
ay that. If I hadn’t gotten you away from there somebody was going to kick your tail.” LaShaun smiled at him, her eyes seemed to say she might have enjoyed that. Following his eyes, she looked down. The robe had parted to reveal her naked body.

  “I can take care of myself, thank you.” He put the cup down on the long low table in front of the sofa and sat at her feet. Slowly he began to rub her thighs.

  “Shouldn’t you call home? I’m sure your grandparents must be worried that you’ve been gone all night.”

  “They’re used to it by now. The old man doesn’t care as long as I don’t cause too much of a scandal to the good old family name.” He began to pluck at the knotted sash.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to get him too pissed off, Quentin.” LaShaun slipped away from him nimbly. She went into the kitchen to refill her cup. “He still holds the purse strings, you know.”

  “No need to worry. Whatever else he may be, grandfather has a strong sense of family. He may threaten to, but since he has no other heirs to carry on the family name and fortune he would never cut me out of the Trosclair estate.”

  “But he can always slow the money to a small trickle.”

  “Grandmother wouldn’t let that happen.” Quentin put his head in her lap as she sat down on the sofa again.

  “Get up.” LaShaun barked.

  “What’s the problem?” Rising sharply, Quentin’s voice had the tone of a wounded little boy.

  “How can you be such a dumbbell! Claude is not going to let your grandmother rule him in anything. Everybody in Beau Chene knows she has been worshipping at his feet from the moment they met. Now you get this through that thick fog in your head, all my-our plans depend on you not getting Claude suspicious or too angry.” Scowling, LaShaun sat across from him in one of the large chairs that matched the sofa.

  “By the time he realizes what’s happening, I will be in control of the company. Grandmother will see to it. With her shares, and Singleton’s help in getting shares from two other old goats, the board will make me CEO. They’ll have little choice.”

  “If you don’t tip your hand before that happens. Tread carefully. Stop arguing with him or criticizing his style of doing business. He might begin to wonder if you plan to do something about it.”