Looking Real Good

by C. Morgan

  She had no idea who I was.

  Her own son was a stranger to her. A threat.

  If I thought too long about that morning, the feeling of devastation I’d felt in that moment would come back in full force.

  I’d made appointments with the best doctors as her memory lapses grew more frequent. After several consultations and tests, a doctor pulled me into his office and told me my mother had a degenerative issue in her brain that would result in fast-moving dementia. There were suspicions it was accelerated or caused by the brain injury some years before but there was no way to prove such a theory.

  I paid for the best specialists to save my mother’s mind. Nothing worked.

  So now she was in a home.

  I parked my Lykan in the parking lot outside the care facility. It was an impressive building with perfectly manicured grounds and old English architecture. Several people were wandering the grounds as I made my way up the path to the front doors, through which was a lobby with dark green velvet sofas and a reception counter with a fish tank built underneath it.

  I approached the counter and the middle-aged woman behind it. She rose from her seat with a smile. “Mr. Holt, what a nice surprise to see you in the middle of the week like this.”

  “I had some free time.”

  “Well, I’m sure Ally will be delighted to see you. She’s been stable this week. She even joined some of the others for some lawn bowling when we had that beautiful sunny day. When was that? Sunday? Monday. Gosh, I can’t recall. But she had a glorious time. You should have seen her. I might have some pictures somewhere around here if you—”

  “Is she in her room?” I asked.

  “Yes, yes, go on in. Pictures can wait.”

  I hoped my mother was having a lucid afternoon as I made my way down the hallway to her room. She had a corner unit, something I’d insisted on, with her own private little patio that overlooked the gardens. She liked to sit outside and listen to the birds with her morning cup of coffee.

  I knocked on her door before opening it a crack. “Mom? It’s me, Lukas.”

  Music was playing inside, a familiar John Denver tune. I opened the door the rest of the way and found my mother sitting in her rocking chair by the window. She blinked at me.

  “How are you, Mom?” I asked as I moved into the room. It smelled like fresh laundry and egg salad. I spotted a plate with breadcrumbs on it sitting on the windowsill beside her. “Did you have an egg-salad sandwich for lunch?”

  My mother nodded. She still hadn’t placed me in her memory but I was used to it taking a minute or two for her mind to catch up.

  Instead of telling her who I was, I waited for it to click. Doctors and nurses alike had told me over the last couple of years that this was the best approach. The worst thing to do was to make a person with dementia feel like they were forgetting something. It caused embarrassment, shame, and sometimes anger.

  I never wanted to cause my mother any of those feelings even if it meant some visits were spent with her never piecing together that I was her son.

  “Too bad I didn’t get here earlier,” I said as I sat down in the other chair across from hers. “I could have gone for a sandwich. What song are you listening to?”

  My mother’s blue gaze slid to the radio behind her right shoulder. “It’s John Denver.”

  “You did always love John Denver, didn’t you? I remember waking up to it on Sunday mornings. You’d be in the kitchen making breakfast for me and Lisa and her mother. They say hello by the way.”

  My mother’s expression shifted. Her eyes brightened, and she smiled. “Lukas,” she said warmly.

  I smiled. “Hi, Mom.”

  Chapter 6

  Kayla

  Our waitress for Happy Hour was a young girl who seemed barely old enough to legally serve us alcohol. She was a bubbly and somewhat scatterbrained person and it took her more trips than it should have to bring us our drinks and our shared appetizer platter of Thai chicken bites, pita crisps and hummus, and vegetables with ranch. Nevertheless, we eventually sat with the full spread before us, sipping our drinks on the enclosed and heated glass patio.

  The mules had a powerful ginger kick. “These are fantastic,” I said, licking my lips. “Really strong but delicious.”

  Lisa nodded and smothered a pita crisp in hummus. She popped it in her mouth and chewed with one hand in front of her mouth. Her nails were dark burgundy and glossy. I suspected she’d just had them done. “I know, right? I discovered this place recently. I’ve been trying to get Lukas to come with me one of these nights but he’s always so busy with work.”

  Lukas seemed more than just busy with work. From where I’d been sitting during our meeting a short hour ago, it seemed like he was his work.

  “I’m sorry again about him,” Lisa said. She dabbed her lips with her napkin and slumped in her chair to sip her drink. “I really didn’t expect him to act that way, especially in front of you. I thought a familiar face might…” She sighed. “I don’t know what I thought.”

  “Stop apologizing, Lisa. I mean it. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

  Lisa fidgeted with her thumbs and tapped them against the side of the copper cup in her hands. “I can’t help it. The jackass embarrassed me.”

  “What? In front of me? Come on, Lisa. Don’t be silly.”

  “He should know better than to treat one of my friends like that.”

  I shrugged. “I think it’s probably better that he treated me like that than a stranger, don’t you?”

  Lisa peered up at me. “Stop giving him the benefit of the doubt. He doesn’t deserve it.”

  “You’re right.”

  “That’s better.” She sat up a little straighter and gave me an assertive nod. “I think I’m just disappointed. He actually listened to me the other day when I finally had time to sit down with him and talk about all this stuff. His image in the public eye isn’t good, Kayla. If he’s not careful, he’s going to become so disliked that he won’t be able to go anywhere without people taking pictures of him and shouting at him. My brother can talk a big game but I know that would be hard on him.”

  “It would be hard on anyone.”

  “Part of me wonders if he deserves it.”

  That seemed harsh. Sure, Lukas had been an ass this afternoon, but did that mean he deserved for the whole public to look scornfully at him? I didn’t think so. “I think he deserves a chance to do better.”

  Lisa chewed the inside of her cheek. “He’s been hoarding all of his wealth since his software company went public. I don’t think he’s given a dime to any charities.”

  “Just because people have money doesn’t mean they’re obligated to give it away,” I said softly. “Even if it is for the greater good. Humanity is…” I trailed off and took three gulps of my mule. “Humanity is flawed.” That seemed like the best word to use. As someone who saw the seedy underbelly of this city more than most, I could attest that there were more accurate words than flawed.

  Evil was one that came to mind. Along with cruel, vile, narcissistic, and ignorant.

  But there were other words, too. Inspiring, driven, courageous, determined, and good. Not every person could be painted with the same brush.

  “Well, my brother has more than his fair share of flaws. That’s for damn sure.” Lisa set her copper cup down on the table and went in for another pita crisp. “If he wants to keep his company’s image positive, he’s going to have to make some changes. He’s part of Big Tech and the backlash against techies like him making millions upon millions of dollars is insane. They’re driving up rents and making a killing without lifting a finger to make the world better. Tech CEOs like Lukas are the new media villains. I really don’t want my brother to be lumped into all that. His reputation may never recover.”

  I felt bad for my friend. It was obvious that she was agonizing over this. “These are Lukas’ decisions, Lisa. We can’t make them for him.”

  “We just have to convince him to b
e charitable,” Lisa said earnestly. “For his own good.”

  I licked my lips. In my experience, convincing someone to do something for their own good never went well. At least, it never went the way it was supposed to.

  “I’m not in the business of pressuring people for donations,” I said evenly. “Even if said people have billions of dollars and plenty to give away.”

  Lisa shook her head and wiped her salty fingers on her napkin so she could reach across the table and take my hand in hers. “It’s not like that. You’d be doing Lukas a favor. Trust me.”

  “I don’t know.”

  Lisa released my hand and leaned back in her chair. “All he cares about is his business and making more billions for his bank account. He doesn’t date, doesn’t have hobbies, doesn’t do anything besides work. Oh, and taking care of his mother, of course.”

  His mother, Ally.

  I’d learned about her car accident a couple of weeks after it happened. Lukas had sworn Lisa to secrecy and asked her not to tell anyone so he could handle things privately. He’d been that way since he was just a boy.

  I’d also learned about the early onset dementia that was eating away at her mind. Lisa had told me in confidence a few years ago when things started to get really bad.

  I couldn’t imagine how difficult it would be to face the truth that your mother would forget who you were one day. The thought made my throat feel tight and that was all it was. A thought.

  “He just needs to realize there’s a whole other world out there,” Lisa continued. “All he’s doing by building this wall of money is isolating himself from people who care about him. There are worse things than poverty and I’m genuinely worried that this fear of his is costing him more than he realizes.”

  I popped a Thai bite and some crispy noodles in my mouth and chewed.

  Lisa kept talking. “Maybe if we can get him involved in something that makes him focus on other people’s lives and not his own, he’ll be able to see that, too. He just needs a push, you know?”

  I nodded, swallowed, and went back in for another piece.

  I could see where Lisa was coming from. However, I had concerns of my own.

  Lisa could be a forceful person. On more than one occasion, she’d pushed things too far and I could see the beginnings of one of those situations forming in an invisible thought bubble above her head.

  “What did you have in mind exactly?” I asked.

  Lisa pulled her chair up closer to the table and smiled. “I was waiting for you to ask me that.”

  Here we go.

  Lisa gripped the edges of the table. “I have a plan that I think will motivate Lukas to see things my way. I’ve already made contact with a journalist who often writes about CEOs and social-justice issues. I’m in the works of setting up an interview between her and Lukas. A series of interviews actually. My hope is that these interviews will form a sort of blueprint of how a tech CEO can become a philanthropist. I’ll document Lukas’ first forays into philanthropy, and in the process, we’ll humanize him and show the world, or at least Seattle, how good of a guy he is beneath all the ones, zeroes, and techy code.”

  I scratched my chin. “It sounds like it would make a good article. Is Lukas on board with the idea?”

  Lisa winked. “That’s what you’re here for. To hook him into giving.”

  I grimaced. “No pressure.”

  “Once he gets the charity bug, he’s bound to open up. You just have to find a way to make it interesting. That’s all.”

  “Interesting?”

  “Yeah, you know. Something to hook him and draw him in. Maybe a way to distract him from the fact that he’s doing charity.”

  I frowned. “I don’t know, Lisa. Charity work to me is interesting and fun. But I don’t know if I can swing it to be that appealing to a billionaire.”

  “I have confidence in you. You’re a professional and so is he. I’m sure you’ll find common ground sooner than you’d expect. Besides, you grew up with Lukas. You know what he’s like. How he thinks. If anyone can convince him to make a change for the better, it’s you. I’m sure of it.”

  I appreciated my friend’s confidence in me. I truly did. But I couldn’t help but feel that she was overestimating my skills as well as her brother’s willingness to try something new.

  The Lukas I used to know was not the same man I’d sat across from in that conference room. That man was someone else. Someone hollow and materialistic. Lukas had always been a hard worker, sure, but a selfish or greedy one? No. He hadn’t been either of those things.

  The task before me was daunting. Part of me wished I’d never agreed to help out with this. I didn’t like to mix work and personal life for a reason. Things like this easily became unnecessarily complicated.

  What if I failed? What if I couldn’t get Lukas to step up the way his sister needed him to?

  Would she blame me? Would he resent me for pushing too hard? Would his image in the public eye worsen if he dipped his toes in the pool of charity and then got cold feet and bailed before any real progress was made?

  The stakes were high.

  “Should we order more mules?” Lisa asked, nodding at our empty copper cups.

  I had an early start in the morning and should have said no, but my nerves were getting the best of me, and another drink sounded like the perfect way to ease the swells of anxiety in my belly.

  I nodded. “Sounds like a good idea to me. Good luck flagging that waitress down, though.”

  Lisa twisted around in her chair. “She’s gotta be around here somewhere.”

  While Lisa scoured the restaurant for our server, my mind wandered back to Lukas in his dashing suit and tie. His cool stare was burned into my memory and I began to wonder what the best way to get through to him would be.

  Maybe all he needed was a gentle touch. Maybe being told what to do and how everything he was doing was wrong wasn’t the way to go. Maybe he just needed someone to take his hand and show him how to be softer. How to care.

  That would be my game plan. Kindness first, action second. It worked in my day job. There was no reason to think it wouldn’t work for Lukas, too.

  Chapter 7

  Lukas

  I’d had a headache since I got up that morning. Perhaps I’d indulged in one too many glasses of whiskey upon getting home after visiting my mother yesterday. Or perhaps it was just the usual stress of daily life catching up with me. Two coffees, aspirin, four glasses of water, and a hearty breakfast hadn’t helped.

  The intercom on the old-school phone on my desk buzzed. A little green light blinked and my assistant’s voice filled the speaker.

  “Mr. Holt? There’s someone here to see you. She says she has an appointment.”

  I held the button down beneath the green light. “What’s her name?”

  “Rebecca Mills, sir.”

  That name didn’t ring any bells. “I don’t know who that is.”

  “She has an appointment, sir. It looks like Lisa set it up. She’s here with her and—”

  My sister’s voice filled the line. “Let us in, Lukas. Do you ever check your agenda? What’s the point in making appointments if the guy you’re making an appointment with never refers to his schedule?”

  My headache doubled in intensity. This is just what I need this morning.

  “We’re coming in, Lukas,” Lisa said cheerfully.

  Well, that was that. I closed my laptop, leaned back in my seat, and listened for the telltale sound of high-heeled shoes coming down the hallway toward me. I didn’t have to wait long to hear them. Maybe twenty seconds tops.

  Another ten seconds later and my office door swung open. Lisa walked in wearing a lavender pant suit that I might have told her looked pretty on her if she hadn’t already gotten on my nerves this morning. Her hair was shiny and nicely styled, her lips were pink, and she flashed me an excited smile as she stood back so another woman could enter the room.

  “Lukas,” Lisa said brightly. “Th
is is Rebecca Mills.”

  I got smoothly to my feet and did up my suit jacket. Moving out from behind my desk, I extended my hand to shake Rebecca’s. She had a firm, confident grip, dark and calculating eyes, and a red smile. She was an attractive woman, but she also exuded “don’t mess with me” energy. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight and severe bun. Her cheekbones were as sharp as the tips of her pointed red nails.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Holt,” Rebecca said with a silky voice. “I appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with me. Lisa says you’re a hard man to keep company with.”

  I shot my sister a look. “I hope she didn’t tell you too much about me.”

  Rebecca laughed lightly and shook her head. “No, not at all. I prefer to hold out until the interview process.”

  I invited her to sit down. Rebecca sat, placed her purse on the floor between her feet, and fished a notebook and pen out of the bag.

  Meanwhile, Lisa came and gave me a hug. When her cheek passed my ear, she whispered to me. “Follow my lead. This is what you pay me for.”

  I nodded and Lisa stepped back to walk behind Rebecca’s chair and sit down beside her. I took my seat behind the desk and leaned back.

  Lisa smiled. “I know you’ve been busy Lukas, so I’ll refresh your memory. Rebecca is the journalist I told you about. She won a Pulitzer for her piece on oil executives and their reactions to climate change. Quite impressive.”

  “Quite,” I agreed.

  Rebecca smiled graciously at us. “We’re not here to talk about my credentials. Besides, I’m changing focus from oil and energy to tech industries. I was intrigued by your offer about the series of interviews revolving around your foray into philanthropy. I think there’s a really big niche for that right now. It will garner interest. I’m sure of it. The public is craving someone they can latch onto who will restore their faith in humanity a little bit. If I’m being honest, I’m looking for that too. The world is an ever-darkening place.”