by Rachel Kane
“I did, and I’ve got no regrets, just a sadness that I couldn’t help you more. But you’re a grown man now, not a child. You’ve got a choice. You can be from here, or you can be from nowhere. Honest, or lie. Which one is it going to be?”
And he knew, then, which one it had to be.
27
Dalton
The office was cold. Everything was frigid to the touch, sticking to his fingers like touching metal in an ice storm. His urge was to have someone bring him a blanket, lie on his couch, and sleep for hours.
The sun was down now. Hours had passed. His heart had finally slowed from that raging rapidity of his confrontation with Colby.
If only it had been a real fight—if only Noah had been there to see it. Look what I can do for you. Watch as I fight for your honor.
Yeah, no. Dalton was nobody’s white knight. And Colby would never allow himself to be a target.
“I don’t care if you understand right now,” Colby had said to him, “but eventually you’re going to thank me.”
“Thank you? I could fucking kill you!”
But there was no joy of bloodlust in that conversation. No finality, no closure. Colby had shaken his head sadly, as though Dalton had utterly missed the point, then he had slipped into the elevator and gone away, leaving Dalton alone with his thoughts, the worst companions anyone could have.
I failed him. Noah needed me to defend him, and I failed him. I was so wrapped up in thinking about the business, in thinking about myself, in thinking about Dad…
He could go home, back to an empty apartment. Luxurious, huge and hollow, listening to his footsteps echo off the walls. He could spend the night watching movies, eating whatever was in the fridge, or maybe picking up ice cream and french fries on the way home. He could toss the fries on the floor, and watch the vacuum roll by to pick them up.
Everything felt exactly that pointless right now. He looked at his phone. He could call Noah. And say what, exactly? I’m sorry for even hesitating, when Colby asked me if you were an embarrassment.
I’m sorry for letting you walk out.
I’m sorry for not going after you.
He couldn’t say that. It wasn’t pride standing in his way, it was that it just wasn’t enough. An apology wouldn’t make up for it, wouldn’t remove Colby from the picture, wouldn’t ease the tension here at the company now. A tension that was going to take weeks to untangle, to get everything moving again. All these people counting on him.
No, he wasn’t going to go home, and let those thoughts consume him, but he found he couldn’t work, either. An email hung open on his computer, unread, unanswered, and he finally closed the case of the laptop and stood up. If he couldn’t be here and he couldn’t be there, where could he go?
The room was dark, but Dad was clearly awake. A business channel was on TV, the stock ticker running at the bottom, and the light was reflected in Dad’s open eyes. He was tucked into bed, the TV muted, but nothing ever stopped the quiet hiss of the oxygen.
Dad glanced his way, then turned his head back to the TV.
This is going to be hard, Dalton told himself. But you knew that when you got in the elevator. It’s this or nothing.
“I want to talk,” he said.
“So talk,” said his father.
“You’re going to listen to me.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m stuck here, remember? You say whatever you want to say. Your brother was up here an hour ago, telling me his version. Same as always, coming to me to resolve your fights.”
Of course Colby would have been here already. Making sure Dad heard his side first, making sure the waters were muddied.
But for once, Colby had gotten things wrong. Had misunderstood the nature of this fight. He thought this was going to be about getting Dad to take sides, so he could get his way.
It wasn’t about that at all.
Dalton pulled up a chair. “Do you remember when Mom died, and you had Aunt Beverly take us to her place for a few weeks?
“Do I remember when your mother died? That’s what you came to ask me? Why would you—”
“It’s not a challenge, Dad, it’s just a question. I always used to wonder why you did that. For years, I thought it was because you were a cold-hearted bastard, and didn’t want two crying kids to distract you from work. I thought you went right back to the office, got on the phone, and started running the company again, and I was stuck between thinking two different things about that. On the one hand, I was so mad at you for it. How could you disrespect Mom that way. But then…I also respected you for it, I was in awe of that kind of single-mindedness, that wouldn’t let feelings get in the way of business. Because I thought you’d discovered a way not to hurt, not to feel pain.”
His father wouldn’t look at him. Wouldn’t even turn his head.
“But that wasn’t right, was it, Dad? You didn’t get rid of us because of us being sad. You sent us to Aunt Beverly because you didn’t want us to see you fall apart. You didn’t want us to know what losing Mom had done to you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, boy.”
“And that’s why you’re so damned mad right now, because you’re hurt, you’re in pain, you’re scared, and everybody can see it. You can’t hide from it. Hell, we’ve devoted a whole floor of the building to it, a museum of your weakness, your pain.”
“I never asked for it.”
“No. No, and if I’d known how much it would hurt you, I probably would’ve chosen something different. I just wanted you close by. I just wanted to be able to see you every day. Because I love you.”
He didn’t know what to do with this sight, his dad’s eyes tearing up, even though he still stared determinedly at the TV. Those numbers crossing the screen were all blurred, reflected in his wet eyes.
“I’m tired of hiding everything I feel, like I’m being disloyal to the family, to the business, if I feel anything. I’m tired of only anger and greed being allowed. Nobody ever gripes at Colby for being aggressive. But what about love? Why is there no room for love?”
“Is this about that boy?”
“The thing you’re asking me to do, to choose between the company I’ve devoted my life to, and a chance to love someone… It’s a false choice, Dad. And I think you know that. Surely you see how much damage that has done to us. We’ve earned the world, but what use is it, if we can’t enjoy anything? If we can’t express a single feeling in our hearts?”
“I never cared much for hearts,” his dad said. “Didn’t see the point of them. You can’t make money with your heart. You have to use your gut.”
“And yet, when Mom died, your heart was broken. So broken you couldn’t face the two little boys who absolutely depended on you.”
He saw his father’s hand, old and gnarled, grip the edge of the blanket. Saw him twist the edge in his fingers.
“That was different. Your mother was everything to me. We wouldn’t have any of this, if she hadn’t been here. She was the smartest woman I ever knew—don’t tell Marcia that.” Dad grinned at the thought. “Oh, she used to pretend to hate Marcia so. Did you know that? She used to call her my work wife. But you see, it was just a joke, because she knew how devoted I was to her. I never strayed, not once. Not even after she died. There has never been another person to take her place.”
“So that’s what I want to know,” Dalton said. “Why, when I finally meet someone who means the world to me, do you put up a fight? Why do you let Colby try to pull us apart? You know what it means to love someone, even if Colby doesn’t. I’m tired of not feeling things, Dad. I’m tired of pretending all I care about is the money. Look at you, look how you’re smiling, remembering Mom. You know what it means.”
The old man sniffled and sat up straighter, pressing his back against the pile of pillows behind him. “You were really going to buy that house for me? A present?”
“I’m not sorry for that,” Dalton said. “I still think it would’ve been a good g
ift. I know how you love a really good piece of architectural history. It wasn’t to get rid of you. God, I was half-thinking about moving the whole operation down there.”
“I get so scared,” his father said, his voice now a quiet whisper, the smile completely gone. “Even after your mother died, I didn’t think about myself dying. Always figured it was for other people. Figured I’d avoid it somehow. And now I face it every day. I don’t know what to do with fear, Dalton. I don’t know what to do with any of it.”
“We’ve all trained ourselves out of feeling a thing,” Dalton said. “So that when we’re faced with an emotion, we turn into angry idiots.”
A long, long sigh then. “Your brother likes to rile me up. I don’t blame him. God knows I spent enough time riling him up, telling him he had to work twice as hard to catch up with you. I always thought a little brotherly competition would be a good thing. It’d keep you both sharp. And it worked! Look at you. You’ve already made more money at your age than I made in the first thirty years of my career.”
“Maybe it’s enough,” Dalton murmured. “Maybe I don’t need anymore. I could quit today, and have enough to live off of for another thousand years.”
But Dad shook his head. “No. Don’t talk like that. You don’t need to quit.”
“I don’t accept Colby being my boss. Partner, sure. But boss? And cutting me out of the foundation? And giving up Noah, as the price of admission? I won’t do it, Dad. I’ll walk out.”
That old hand was quick this time, reaching for his own hand, clutching it, squeezing his fingers. “Don’t you do it. No. We need you. Colby needs you, even though he’d never admit it.”
“The only way that works is if we go back to the way things were, with nobody snooping in my personal life, nobody telling me what charities I can and can’t fund, nobody—”
Again that squeeze. “I trust you, boy.”
But can I trust you? Or will Colby come in here tomorrow and try to convince you I’m wrong, yet again?
I love you, but you’re slipping. There was a time when you never would have heeded Colby’s bogus warnings about me. A time when you would’ve believed me.
It’s hard to watch a mind go, especially a mind like his father’s. Someone so sharp, someone so lucid as he had been all of Dalton’s life.
It wasn’t Dad’s fault. The surgeries, the prolonged recovery, it had all taken a toll on him.
No.
If he was going to fix this, it couldn’t be with Dad.
He was going to have to talk to Colby again.
Maybe for the last time.
The helipad atop the Raines Building was windy and loud, the chopper’s blades beating the air. It wasn’t necessarily the best place to have a confrontation.
“Going somewhere?” he asked Colby, who had his briefcase and laptop bag.
“What?” shouted Colby, unable to hear him over the noise.
“I said, Going somewhere?” he shouted back.
“I’m sorry?” Colby scowled and gestured toward the helicopter: Get in. “What were you saying?” he asked, once the door was shut and they had their headsets on.
“We need to talk.”
“Are you sure? A little while ago, it looked like you wanted to push me off the building. Guess you missed your chance. Unless you’re planning to blow up the chopper. I’m going to the Nashville office, by the way. Hope you don’t mind.”
“You’re not going anywhere, until we talk this out.”
“God, Dalton, is this about your boy-toy again? Look—”
Dalton gave the pilot the order not to take off, to shut down the engine.
“Damn it Dalton, I have to be there tonight, we have a presentation—”
“You’re going to stay right here.”
Colby flung himself back in the seat, crossing his arms, and suddenly Dalton could remember him as a teen, full of fight, always angry and bitter, always feeling passed over.
You always thought Dad gave me everything. Thought you had to work for everything that was freely handed to me.
No. Dalton didn’t want to feel sympathy at Colby right now. He wanted to feel fury. Noah was out there somewhere, alone, sad, broken-hearted and humiliated, all because of his brother, and justice demanded action.
Yet the sympathy was there.
“I talked to Dad,” Dalton said.
“I’m sure you did. Told him I’m a liar, manipulative, a cheat, he should never believe me, all that kind of thing?”
“No, that’s your tactic. I told him how I felt.”
“Oh, nice trick. Get the old man all soppy and tearful over your sad little heart. You’re an evil bastard, Dalton. I’ve always respected that about you.”
“God, what’s wrong with you? I’m being honest here, goddamn it! I need to tell you what’s inside my fucking heart, and I need you to fucking listen!”
“You should write greeting cards, you’d be a whiz at it. Okay, okay, jeez, don’t punch me. Say what you’re going to say.”
Suddenly a memory flashed in Dalton’s brain. That time on the bridge with Noah, the game of the three guesses that had gotten them into so much trouble. But he could remember Noah’s words as though he were whispering them into Dalton’s ear: You think one day your brother is going to be better at the job than you are. You think he’s going to take over, and it worries you.
As usual, Noah was right.
At first, Dalton had fought the idea. Clearly he was the leader, and Colby was the follower.
Then why did he feel so much resistance to the idea of quitting?
He could have. It would’ve been a dramatic exit, one that would’ve been reported in all the business news: CEO gives up everything for love. Investors would have been shocked, the company would have gone straight into trouble, the share price would plummet, but he’d be free. He could do anything he wanted, at that point.
But what he realized, thinking over what Noah said, was that he didn’t want to quit.
He wanted everything. Noah, the company, his family. Why should he lose any of it? Why should he even lose his brother?
We’ve never been any good at compromise, he thought. Sometimes that’s a good thing.
“I’m going to make a deal with you,” he told Colby. “And it’s a simple one. I think you’re going to like it.”
Colby’s face was skeptical, but he shrugged. “Let’s hear it.”
“I want the company back.”
“Um…”
“And full control of the foundation.”
“Just a minute—”
“And for you to stop scheming behind my back.”
“Okay, now that’s—”
“And for you to give your blessing to me and Noah.”
“Noah? I thought I made myself clear.”
“Oh, you did. You absolutely did. It’s just, you’re going to lose if you pick this battle.”
“Is that a threat? What, are you going to start a company on your own? Steal the investors? Try to drag me down? Do your worst—”
“No. None of that. What you’re going to lose is your dignity and your self-respect. Because the competition here isn’t who ends up with the most money or power. It’s who is happiest. And you’re fucking miserable, Colby. You’re the saddest damn man I ever met.”
“I’m very happy, thank you very much.”
“When’s the last time you went on a date? When’s the last time you watched a movie? When’s the last time you did anything for yourself, for fun?”
“Work is fun!”
Dalton laughed at the strain in his brother’s voice. “Look at you. You’re going to wind up just like Dad, you realize that, right? Heart attack in the middle of a conference call, and nothing to show for your life but some numbers on a chart. What’ll you leave behind, Colby? No memories. There’s no one in your life who will mourn you at all, other than me. Don’t you get how sad that is?”
“Oh, fuck, Dalton, when did you become such a soppy fucking mess?”<
br />
“When I realized I could have more. More than…more than this,” he said, gesturing, taking in the helicopter, the building, the world.
“People would kill to be in your position. They’d kill. And you don’t care about it. You’d give it all up for a boy.”
“Not just any boy. A man who makes me feel special. A man who can see into my heart. That’s what I want for you, too. Someone special, someone other than this fucking company. Someone who can make you feel complete. And don’t you sit there and tell me you already feel that way. Don’t lie to me. There’s a reason you spend twenty-four hours a day in your office. You don’t have anything else. And I know how much that sucks, because I was exactly the same way until I met Noah.”
Colby slouched in his seat. “If I give you your spot in the company back, will you go away?”
“Sure. Give me everything I’ve asked for.”
“The company. The foundation. Noah. Who, if I recall correctly—and maybe I’ve forgotten, because it was so long ago this afternoon—but I believe he broke up with you.”
“A minor detail. Promise me I can have it all back. And that you’ll stop fighting me every step of the way.”
“What do I get out of this, again? Because this is a deal. Both parties are supposed to win, remember?”
“Simple. I’m going to run the company, but you’re going to get the credit. That’s going to be my gift to you. Every interview I do, when this order ships, and we make headlines—every person I speak to, everyone who asks, even people who don’’t—everyone is going to know that Colby Raines was the one who stepped up, when Dad could no longer run the company. I’ll have the title, but you’ll be the one they talk about, the young up-and-comer. Will he unseat his own brother? Time will tell. The reporters will eat it up. They’re going to love you, Colbs. Hot, rich and single, the most successful man in America.”
Now that made Colby’s eyes light up. “You’d do that? You’d give me all the credit?”
“It’s better than fighting, isn’t it? I don’t care about what the world thinks. I enjoy the work. So is it a deal?”