When I pushed open the door to the penthouse floor, two guys descended on me like giant vultures. They didn’t pull guns, but I had a pretty good idea they could have. One dude I didn’t recognize, but the other one, Charlie, was deferential, “Oh hey Rand. Sorry about that. Tricky entrance. Is your dad expecting you?”
“He should be.”
He pointed down the hall. “Third door on your left.”
“Thanks.” I strode to the door, gathering my balls, and knocked. The door was opened by Louis D’Angelo, who’d been with my dad for as long as I’d been alive. “Hey Lou.”
“Hey Squirt. Good to see your face.” He pulled me in the door and gave me a big hug. The Squirt part was our joke, since I stood six-three and Louis was a fireplug at five-nine. He stepped back and grabbed my bags. “Got a surprise for you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “A good one for a change?”
“You be the judge.” He led me into the living room of the suite, and I looked up in time to smile.
“Fre! What are you doing here?”
Walking toward me with a shit-eating grin was Fremont Townsend. My boyfriend. Well, boyfriend mostly in name only since I lived in Madison, Wisconsin and Fre worked at American Eagle HQ in New York. I studied, went to classes, played soccer, or trained to play soccer fifteen hours a day, and Fre worked eighteen or more a thousand miles away. We didn’t exactly have a sparkling social life.
He gathered me into a brief hug and gave me a peck on the cheek. Fre wasn’t big on PDA. He took his position as a senator’s son and up-and-coming lawyer pretty seriously. I could respect that. His dad was a big shot, not just as a senior senator, but also as the chairman of the Senate Committee on Energy and Natural Resources. Of course, Fre’s father, William—call me Bill—Townsend, was also a relaxed, totally inclusive guy who could talk to a homeless woman as comfortably as the crown prince of Saudi Arabia. I idolized the guy.
When my father told me the senator had a gay son, and then introduced us at a party, I was starstruck. While the senator was short and famous for his mane of silver hair, Fre was medium height and dark-haired, with glistening blue eyes and a serious expression. I’d come to learn that his personality was not much like his father’s either—or at least, not the persona the senator projected in public. But then, I was nothing like my dad, so we had that in common.
Fre walked me to one of the love seats lined up in front of the windows that looked across the greening Pennsylvania landscape. He’d removed his suit jacket and hung it over the back of the desk chair. In his crisp white shirt, he looked trim and fit. My father’s raised voice echoed from behind the closed doors of what must be one of the bedrooms. Whether he was on the phone or yelling at somebody in person I couldn’t tell. Nobody was answering back.
I sat and Fre sat close enough beside me to rest an arm on the back of the loveseat where I could feel the warmth.
I leaned in and spoke quietly. “What’s the deal?”
“Much ado about nothing. We had a small break in the pipe and our sensors chose that minute to fail. There was some mild contamination of the groundwater before it was caught and corrected.” He held up a hand. “I’m just quoting here. You know me. I’ve got no science.” Fre was part of the legal department. He leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips. It was sweet and he didn’t do it often.
Interesting that while he’d joined American Eagle Energy less than a year ago, he’d already adopted the proprietary “we”.
“Groundwater’s serious. I thought Dad said it was confined to a swimming pool.”
He shrugged. “Apparently, it contaminated a water supply that was being used primarily for recreational facilities. Fortunately, only two kids got sick and then the pool was drained.”
Questions crowded my head. Primarily? What else was affected? But that wasn’t the biggest concern. “How sick are the kids? Are they still hospitalized?”
Fre waved his hand, got up, and filled a coffee cup. “Want some?”
I shook my head.
He sat down again with his coffee and said, “The kids are both back at home, not much the worse for wear. Still, we’ll pay out a handsome settlement because, you know, it never should have happened. With all the unemployment in the county, the parents are really appreciative.”
I shuddered. Jesus. Settlements. Money for your health and life. The concept always nauseated me, even though it was a time-honored way of dealing with company fuckups. I’d be negotiating settlements myself in a few years.
Like he heard me, Fre asked, “Have you gotten your orientation packet from Columbia?”
“Uh, no.” I didn’t add that it was difficult for them to send me an orientation packet when I hadn’t accepted their invitation to join the MBA program yet.
“Odd. Anyway, I’ve been thinking about our living arrangements. I’m worried that the press will make a big deal out of us living together—”
I tensed. He’d mentioned the idea of us living together in passing, but I’d never really agreed. I would need a place to live in grad school, but I wasn’t even sure I was staying in New York, much less that I was ready to move in with Fre.
“Uh, I don’t think—”
He pushed ahead. “So, for appearances, we might want to consider a more formal arrangement.”
Wait. What? I blinked at him, surprised. What exactly did that mean? Anxiety flickered in my gut. Surely, he wasn’t….
The double doors to the bedroom burst open, and Tommy Lee Charles swept in with the subtlety of a tornado, as usual. Not as tall as me, stockier, with a head of sandy hair as untamable as he was, my father was an irresistible force. Even people who hated him—their numbers were legion—had to grudgingly admire his charisma.
“Fremont! I wish the rest of Legal would get their fucking heads out of their fucking asses. We can’t afford to set multimillion-dollar precedents when fucking oil prices are about as low as cat litter.” His eyes focused on me. His expression did some kind of complex metamorphosis from a frown to a smile, as he said, “Hey, son. I didn’t know if you were serious when you said you’d come.” He walked over, so I got to my feet. He shook my hand.
“I usually am, sir.”
“As you should be.” He barked a laugh. “Okay, since you’re here, we’ll put you to work making us look good. You and Fremont can stand behind me for the press conference as I speak about commitment to the environment and good jobs. Can’t ever forget the jobs.”
I stared at him. “How many of those good jobs have gone belly-up in the last year?”
He waved a hand. “Not as many as our competitors. Right, Fremont? Good idea. Get me the layoff rate versus the industry average. In case the press gets mouthy today.”
I sighed softly. “People don’t care about the average. They care about their job.”
There was a knock at the door, and Louis let in two of the local executives from the fracking operation. I nodded at them, but my father said, “Rand, go get spiffed up. Use the other bedroom.” He and Fre both welcomed the newcomers, and I was clearly dismissed.
In the extra bedroom, I clicked on the TV to the news and kicked off my sneakers. Louis had put my bag in this room, and I opened my case and took out my shaving kit.