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Shutting down that avenue of thought, Ben dressed and went back to his room to draw. It was the only time of the day when he felt alive and real. The light faded quickly on winter afternoons and Ben tried to make the most of it. Today he drew a study of Silver Fox that was completely fanciful. He smiled out of the paper right at Ben, looking as if he cared. His lips curved into a sweet smile that seemed to promise Ben the entire world. When the sketch was finished, Ben couldn’t take his eyes off it. The drawn eyes seemed to stare right through to the bottom of his soul. He stared at it for so long that he was nearly late for his night job and had no time at all to eat any kind of dinner.
2
Simon Retires Before Work Can Kill Him
Tuesday, December 12
An executive office
The Loop
“Well,” Simon said, rolling his neck until it cracked satisfactorily, “that’s the end of that.”
“Only in a manner of speaking, Mr. Prince. You’ve passed on the baton, so to speak, but the race isn’t over yet.”
Simon looked up at his personal assistant, Ms. Ingot. She was beautiful in a cold, deadly sort of way and scary beyond all reason. She was also the best PA Simon had ever had. “My part in this one is officially over. Stick a fork in me, I am done.”
From her perch on one of the office’s black leather sofas his mother made a noise of disapproval. “Your father and grandfather would be rolling in their graves. You’ve just given away your inheritance. Everything they worked for is now gone.”
“Not everything, Mother. I’ve escaped with the money and my life. I think that’s a fair trade.”
Her face twisted in disapproval. “Jefferson should not be running the company.”
“I don’t agree. I think Jeff will be a great CEO for Prince Industries. But even if he isn’t, I’m out of it. Jeff’s family, Mother. I have faith he’ll do the company proud.”
“Barely family. He’s no blood of mine. He’s the child of that man your sister married.” Unspoken was the other part of the sentence,“If she was still alive, I’d be giving her a piece of my mind, too.”
Simon’s older sister and her husband had died just over a year ago in a car accident. Simon knew his mother blamed his brother-in-law, as he’d been driving the car, and some of that blame had landed on Jeff, although he hadn’t been in the car at the time. He supposed that by his mother’s logic, the sins of the father were visited upon the son.
Now it was just Simon and his mother, and he knew both of them felt the empty spots in their lives. That Simon had never married or had children of his own was a particular bone of contention with his mother, but it was a situation unlikely to ever change, so she needed to come to terms with it eventually.
Simon stood and stretched, feeling his spine crack in a satisfying way. He’d been sitting and signing documents for hours. “It doesn’t matter if you think Jeff is family or not. The majority of the shares are now his and he can do what he likes with the company. Maybe he'll make it more successful than I did. You never know.”
“You should have passed it on to your own son,” his mother said, also standing. “It’s what your father would’ve wanted.” It was such a common complaint that Simon barely registered it anymore.
He went over to kiss his mother’s cheek. Simon wanted to say that it didn’t matter what his father would’ve wanted because his father had been dead almost twenty years, but he didn’t. Rather like Queen Victoria, Simon’s mother showed no signs of ceasing mourning for her beloved.
“Are you still planning on having lunch with me before I fly to St. Thomas?” she asked.
Simon flicked a glance at Ms. Ingot. She gave him a slight nod. It was on his schedule already. “Of course. I’ll see you then.”
When she was gone and it was just him and his PA, she sat on the corner of his desk and asked, “What are you planning to do with your newfound freedom?”
Simon shuffled papers in an attempt to avoid what was sure to be a knowing smile on Celia’s face as well as sharply raised eyebrows “We’ve discussed this already, Celia. I’ll be spending more time on charity projects.”
She shook her head. “No, I meant with your personal life. Will you do something shocking like… I don’t know… going on a date perhaps?”
“I date,” Simon said, affronted.
Celia rolled her eyes, something she could get away with because she’d been keeping him on time and in the right place for nearly twenty years. “No, you don’t, sir. I should know, as I keep your schedule. Can you tell me the last time you went on a date that had nothing whatsoever to do with the company?”
Simon thought back. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to—”
She consulted her phone. “Three years, six months, and fourteen days. That might be some sort of record.”
He went blank. “Who was that?”
“That you can’t remember proves my point, sir. Please. Go out and do things with another person. You’re not getting any younger.”
