by Rachel Kane
An unsettled look passed Dalton’s features as he took a step away. Noah had the gnawing sense that they weren’t joking anymore, not at all. That entire futures were being planned here in the empty gallery.
“Are you asking me to give up my business to stay here with you?” Dalton said.
“I’m not asking anything at all. Except for you to tell me how you feel, what you’re thinking.”
“You know what I’m thinking. Or should I give you three guesses?”
“You’re thinking about solving a problem. How to move pieces around so that everything fits. I’m not a piece, Dalton. You can’t move me around.”
“That’s not it—” He shook his head. “Sorry. This whole thing with Colby and my dad has broken my mind. Why is this any of their business? I’m getting the job done. I’m leading the company. What do they care if I have a few days off? Everyone takes time off. Why should it be different for me?”
“There’s one obvious answer to that question: Every time you try to exert some control over your personal life, someone in your family has a crisis. And then you have to rush back to fix everything, so it won’t fall apart.”
“They’ve never threatened me before.”
“No, of course not. You wouldn’t have tolerated anything so direct. That’s the kind of attack it’s easy for you to fend off. What they’re playing with is your feelings.”
“Ugh. Those again.”
Noah rolled his eyes. “Eventually you’re going to have to realize that not only do you have emotions, but you’re allowed to have them…and that your family has to make room for them. Just because your family made their fortune off robots, doesn’t mean you have to be one.”
“Yeah, so what am I supposed to do, run back home crying? Oh, Colby, you’ve made me so sad… That puts the power right back into his hands.”
The gallery had once held a collection of old-South artists, portraits, still-lifes, religious subjects. All those paintings had been sold off over the years, when Silas Cooper still held the property, and it was odd now to walk through this long room, to look at the dark squares on the wallpaper, and wonder what had been pictured there. It gave the room a sort of haunted emptiness, where you could almost hear the ghosts of footsteps of prior guests, walking arm in arm, not for the sake of the pictures themselves—those had been nothing special to the wealthy, fabulous guests who had made their summers at Superbia Springs—but for a moment to speak, to whisper, to tell secrets while peering at a painting. A place for gossip, for flirting.
It had been a room whose stated purpose was one thing, while its real purpose was something else entirely.
Dalton’s identity clicked into place for Noah, in this room, seeing how frustrated and lost he looked. “Power? It’s only a matter of power if you view feelings as weakness. Is that how you see it, deep down? Do you honestly think your attraction to me is weakness? Am I an addiction, something bad for you?”
Dalton shook his head. “No, not at all! You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in forever.”
“Then own it. Own the feeling. It’s really that simple. You’re not putting power into anybody’s hands, you’re not displaying weakness, you’re demanding what you want. There’s nothing weak about that.”
“They gave me a choice—”
“Reject the choice, then. Who are they to give you a choice? Who are they to steal the company from you?”
Dalton smiled at him then, a smile of determination. “You’re very good at this pep-talk business. Where have you been all my life?”
“Mostly stealing shirts from the mall.”
“I will buy you a hundred malls to steal from.”
But then his face fell again. “Noah… The grant. The foundation. If Colby’s in charge of that, he’s not going to approve the money for this place. What will you do?”
There was the question, wasn’t it? It was all well and good for him to encourage Dalton to go to battle with Colby. But if the grant fell through, they’d be back where they started. In deep trouble. In danger of losing the house.
How could he explain that to Liam and Judah?
I made Dalton’s brother mad simply by existing, so now Superbia Springs has to crumble to dust.
That wasn’t fair. Why should Colby’s hatred of him affect the Coopers?
Why couldn’t he just be with Dalton, in some normal, uncomplicated way?
Why was everything so hard?
He’d spent his childhood on the run, spent his young adult years trying to build a life for himself, and now that he finally had one that felt stable and safe, it was all going to be ripped away. Again.
“Maybe I should speak to Colby,” Noah said.
“Oh-ho-ho, hell no,” said Dalton. “Not a chance. I’m not putting you in the line of fire, when he goes off.”
“Not to, y’know, intrude on secret family business, but it’s my fate at stake here too. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you flying back up there to have it out with him, all by yourself.”
“I can handle myself just fine,” Dalton said. But when he looked at Noah, he seemed to understand what Noah was getting at, because his face softened, and he reached for Noah, taking him by the shoulders. “Look, it’s going to be okay. Do you want me to take you? I will. I just think it’ll make everything worse. Colby will—”
“How can you live your entire life by your younger brother’s terms? When do you get a say?”
Dalton bit his lower lip in thought, then finally nodded. “Okay. You’re right. You want to come with me, then pack something. We’ll be there by this afternoon. But Noah…”
“Yeah?”
“If this all goes badly, if I lose this fight… What am I going to do then?”
Noah got up on his toes and kissed him. “Dalton Raines, with no fortune, no billions, no private jet? Well, we could always use a new housekeeper here at Superbia Springs!”
They both laughed, and the hug between them was tight and warm and real…but there was a worry in the back of Noah’s head.
Here I am again, at other people’s mercy…just when I think I’ve got my life figured out, and I can handle everything on my own.
It was the problem with opening your heart to someone, wasn’t it? You were no longer your own person. You no longer had the kind of independence you did, as a single person. It’s just…normally the problems with that didn’t rear up quite so drastically as they were doing now. Usually it took a while.
He changed clothes slowly, carefully, choosing each piece for maximum effect. The sharkskin suit. The crispest, whitest shirt he owned. He would at least look like he belonged in their world.
He just hoped, by the time it was over, that he still had a place in his own world.
25
Dalton
Even though his mind kept going back to the upcoming confrontation he knew he would have to have with his brother, Dalton couldn’t help but look back at Noah. Here was a man who had spent his life trying to overcome what he thought was a fault in his upbringing (as though he’d had any say in it, as though it mattered at all), who was slowly being ushered in to the opposite of everything he’d grown up with. Power. Wealth. The secret machinery behind the glamor and fame. This wasn’t the world of fashion magazines and supermodels and yachts. This was where the money was made.
The only thing Dalton wished was that he could’ve shown it to Noah some other time, in some happier setting, because while Noah stared at all the glass and steel, and the vista over the city, and up at the weblike ceiling of the broad atrium, there was a fear in Dalton’s heart that he could not get rid of, as much as he tried to swallow it down.
For a man who spent his life making choices that risked millions of dollars, Dalton found himself afraid that Colby would ask him to make one more choice. Noah or the company. Noah or the family.
If I could just get to Dad. If I could talk to him for five minutes, introduce him to Noah, if I could just—
“Where are the
robots?” Noah asked.
That stopped Dalton in his tracks. “What?”
“I thought there were robots? I was going to take pictures of them to show Judah.”
“This isn’t the factory, this is the corporate headquarters. If you want to see robots, maybe we could—”
He stopped himself. He couldn’t offer to take him to the factory. After today, he might no longer have access to the factory himself.
“You should get some robots in here,” Noah insisted. “Not those big arms that make things. Little robots. Friendly ones. They could roll around and greet people.”
It occurred to him, listening to Noah’s quick, breathless words, that he was just as nervous as Dalton. Dalton reached out and grabbed his hand. “It’s going to be okay.”
“Is it, though?”
He squeezed Noah’s fingers. “Good point. Let’s find out.”
There were the working offices, where you could actually get things done, and conference rooms where you could fit people around a table, and the big presentation room where they invited the press. And then there was what they called the Money Room. Where you brought the big investors. Where you brought people you wanted to impress…or frighten.
When Dalton found out Colby was in the Money Room, it didn’t surprise him at all.
Noah, on the other hand, gasped.
The architects had loved designing this room. They had made the room jut out over the edge of the building, like a balcony, except unlike any reasonable balcony, this one was floored with reinforced glass. You stepped out and the view was straight down into the building’s courtyard and gardens, eight hundred feet below. The conference table was in the middle of that balcony, and was also made of glass, so there was no escaping the vertiginous view, the sense that you were hanging in space, nothing keeping you safe but your faith in the Raines’ choice of designers. Of course Colby was here, and of course he was at the farthest point in the room, where the glass floor met the glass wall, looking for all the world like a man hanging motionless in the sky. A god.
It wasn’t the first time it had occurred to Dalton how different their worlds were. Colby belonged here, in the glass, aluminum and steel, where there were no machines, no dirty spots of grease on the floor, no hard hats, no sign of physical effort.
“I’m not sure I can cross the room,” whispered Noah, as he approached the line on the floor where blond wood changed to green glass. “What if it breaks?”
“It won’t break.”
“Yeah, but what if it does?”
“I see you’ve brought your friend,” said Colby, finally turning from the view. He raised a critical eyebrow. “And I see he’s wearing his little suit. I’m sure it must impress all the boys in Mayberry.”
Dalton sensed Noah take half a step backward, and he reached behind him for Noah’s hand. “Let’s talk this through. Let’s get it the hell over with.”
“I think he’s scared to come to the table,” Colby said.
“It’s a psychological effect,” said Dalton. “The whole point of the room is to make people feel off-balance, so they’ll do what we want. Colby’s motivations are as transparent as the floor. Just close your eyes, Noah, and follow where I lead.”
But he could feel a weakness in Noah’s grip.
As though Noah didn’t trust him.
As though his faith in Dalton was slipping away.
Can you blame him?
When they reached the table, Noah opened his eyes and gasped. His hand left Dalton, and went for the edge of the table, steadying himself. He slid into a chair, and Dalton sat beside him.
“There,” said Colby. “You’re on one side of the table, here I am on the other. It’s almost like we’re here to make a deal.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” said Dalton. “You’re using Dad’s illness against me. I never saw it before, but you’d do anything to take over the company, wouldn’t you? I can’t believe how blind I was. I can’t believe how much I trusted you.”
“I’m not the bad guy here,” said Colby. He pointedly did not take a seat, but walked back to the window. “I wasn’t the one who dropped everything we earned, everything we strived for. I wasn’t the one who gave it up for a boy.”
“I didn’t give anything up.”
“Oh come on, Dalton. Who are you these days? Where’s the brother I used to know? The one who would work 48 hours straight, when crunch time came for a big order? The one who understood the company is family, and it’s more important than sleep, or…or that?” His gesture towards Noah contained all the scorn in the world, and Dalton could sense Noah shrinking in his chair.
“You’re the one trying to make this into a choice,” Dalton said. “Not me. I think I can have it all. And why not? We’re rich. What’s the point of wealth if you can’t have what you want?”
When Colby returned to the table, though, it wasn’t Dalton he spoke to, but Noah. He leaned against the table, his palms flat on the glass, a little aura of warmth making the glass white around his hands. “Do you know what you’ve done to us, Noah? He refuses to see it, but are you interested? While you’ve been spending time with Dalton, things haven’t been getting done around here. Meetings have been missed. Calls with investors have been rescheduled. Investors are like skittish cats. They run off at the first sign of danger. One missed meeting? Fine, we can make excuses, we’re busy men. Two? A little harder. Three? Then people start asking me whether Dalton’s still leading the company at all. Whether we’re going to be able to meet our commitments. Dalton may have told you that our business runs on robotics, but that’s not true. Business runs on gossip. On expectations of the future—on perceptions. Those perceptions affect the stock price. And so I’m able to put a price tag on your relationship. Isn’t that interesting? You may think your feelings for my brother are priceless, but they come at a cost to me of 3.6 million dollars. Yes. That’s what has happened to my share of the company, since you began seeing each other. Just mine. Dad’s shares have gone down. Yours have too, Dalton, if you ever bothered to look. We have lost, in total, more than 15 million.”
“Bullshit,” said Dalton. “The stock will bounce back, you know it. The order has had some setbacks, but none of them have to do with Noah.”
“Perception, Dalton. If people think the setbacks have to do with you being absent all the time, then they do.”
Dalton sat back in the chair, rubbing his face. “This is the kind of thing I hate. Posturing. Dramatics. Perception. Fuck all this. What do you want, Colby? You’ve already got Dad in your pocket. You’ve got all the lawyers in the world. What do you want out of me?”
Colby winked at Noah. “Watch, I’m about to be generous. Dalton, it’s simple. I can’t run this company without you. I like the finance side. I like the business part of our business. The robotics? The factories? That has always been your world. I’ll admit it: You’re better at all that than I am. Much, much better. I need you here, by my side.”
The false sincerity in his voice was enough to make Dalton sick. Colby had mastered the art of saying one thing, while meaning something totally different. I need you here, by my side…so I can control you, so I can punish you.
“I’m right here,” said Dalton, “same as always. So, as far as I can tell, there’s no conflict, and we can get right back to work.”
“I need you here,” Colby said. “Not with him.”
“What does it fucking matter? In what fucking world do you get a say about who I spend my time with? Who do you think you are?”
“Wow, normally I like being the topic of conversation,” said Noah, “but you’re really making it painful. Why are you guys tiptoeing around this? You know why he wants me out of the picture, Dalton.”
Dalton gritted his teeth. “Yes, I do. I just want him to say it. For once in his miserable fucking life, I want him to say exactly what he means.”
“I don’t want to be unpleasant in front of our guest,” Colby said.
“Spit it out
. Now.”
Colby sighed. “Fine. But I tried, Dalton. I have wanted to avoid this conversation from day one, the first time I noticed you watching Noah. My heart sank when I saw it. He’s so clearly not in our league. Look, kid, don’t take offense. I’m not trying to insult you. It’s just, our world is different from yours. We expect a certain level of…class, of culture. Has Dalton told you about his prior boyfriends? The sculptor? The model? The chef? Those were men you could take to parties, who you could show off. You’re pretty, don’t get me wrong. But you’re not one of us. You’re embarrassing Dalton…and you’re embarrassing yourself.”
With every word, Noah’s cheeks grew redder and redder, his eyes wider. Soon the blush had spread to his throat, where Dalton could see the pulse beating so fast.
“Am I?” Noah asked, his voice choked and dry. “Am I an embarrassment, Dalton?”
“He’s not going to answer honestly,” Colby said. “You know he’s going to say no. But ask yourself this. Why has your whirlwind romance been hidden away in Superbia? Why has he kept you away from his friends? Why hasn’t he brought you here to meet Dad? Don’t you think it’s a little odd that most of the time you’ve been together, has been in your world, and not his? It’s because, deep down, he knows you don’t belong here. And Noah, understand me, I’m not trying to put you down. You have your place. I’m sure down in Superbia, all the farm boys look up to you. But the son of a poor, white-trash waitress just isn’t going to cut it in our society.”
Dalton rose. “Goddamn it, Colby!”
But his brother continued: “What about when people ask you about your background? Where you went to university? What are you going to tell them? That you dropped out of high school? That the only reason you met Dalton was because your friends took pity on you and invited you to live in their house? Why—”
When Noah raised a hand, the room went silent.
The blush had drained out of him. All the life in his face had gone too, and he was pale, as though somewhere during Colby’s tirade he had died and been replaced by a ghost.