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“My money looks good on you.”
Damn. I guess he’s still the same underhanded person who betrayed Kent. Never missing a chance to bring someone to where he feels he is above them. Well, I’m glad I’m stronger than that. Above that.
I drop my hand from his“Well, seems like you’d like to just jump right in?”
“No need to beat around the bush, right?” Malcolm says with a smile. A few more wrinkles in his cheeks than there used to be.
We take a seat with our respective lawyers across a large conference table from one another. I’ve opted to keep this out of court…for now. But I’m not budging even a little bit. My lawyers are prepared for this. I’m sure Malcolm’s are too. If there’s any way at all we can keep it from going into the courts and on the public record, I’m all for it.
As we sit across the table, eyeing each other, I can’t believe how sour things have gone. Back in the day, Malcolm, Kent, and I were a triumvirate. Even though I had Victoria to care for and couldn’t live at the fraternity house, we were always together. I know Victoria even had a childish crush on Malcolm when she was little.
Unlike me, she has never crossed the line with my friends. And even if she did, a friend dating my sister would sit differently than a friend dating a daughter. I may not have one, but just being on the other side of it doesn’t make it hard to recognize the gravity of the line I’ve crossed.
No thinking about Harley. Business only.My constant mantra these days.
Malcolm leans back in his chair and starts to bounce. “Swanky place you’ve got here.”
“We keep it nice.”
“I bet you do,” he says and then leans forward, clasping his palms on the table. “So, have you come to your senses?”
I glance at one of my lawyers, Francis, a young attorney with a swoop of black hair, frameless glasses that sometimes look invisible on his face. He makes a note on his legal pad but doesn’t say anything. “My senses? What might those be?”
Malcolm laughs. “I take that as a no.”
“Let’s be real, Malcolm. Neither of us wants to do this in court, right?”
He rolls his eyes smarmily. “Maybeyoudon’t want to do it in court. I, on the other hand, don’t feel encumbered by…sentimentality. As it were.”
“I’m not encumbered by it either.”
“Oooh…Grant, I’m not so sure about that,” Malcolm replies with condescension dripping off every word. “I know you and Kent must have had plenty of good times without me over the years. You’re on your high horse about being a good friend, holding onto that legacy. Right?”
“That’s a very strange way of putting all of that.”
Malcolm crosses his arms over his chest. I see the seams on his shoulders strain. “How would you tell it, then?”
I frown. “You really want me to go there?”
“I know you’ve been waiting to chew me out for ten years. May as well have a go.”
He’s asking for me to be the asshole. That means I’ll be giving him some sort of satisfaction. And that’s the last thing I want to do. “I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere with this. Behind closed doors without a judge present.” I turn to Malcolm’s lawyers, two men that almost look like identical twins with their balding nests of hair and thin lips. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time, gentlemen. I look forward to the opportunity to work this all out in a more appropriate setting.”
Malcolm scowls. “Really, Grant? We just got started.”
“And now it’s over,” I say, getting to my feet and buttoning my suit jacket. “Now, I’ll have to ask you to–”
Malcolm slams his fist down on the table. “I’m not going anywhere. This is my company too, Grant.”
“Like hell it is,” I snap. Then, without another word, I leave the conference room. Fuck being nice. Fuck decorum. If he wants a fight, he’ll get it. I guarantee it.
* * *
Another day in Hollywood,another award ceremony. This time, it’s a simple gala being held in honor of Tilly Quarterman, a legend of stage and cinema. Tilly’s nearing a century old, yet she still has the energy and gumption to get up on stage and give us all nearly fifteen minutes of comedic material. It’s brilliant and an honor to be in the same room as the legend.
I’ve come alone this time. Victoria is in New York preparing for Fashion Week. And I haven’t had a legit date to one of these things in years. Besides, I want to see who I need to see and get out of there as fast as possible.
After the acceptance speech comes the general milling about that we do. It’s a rather stodgy event, the average age definitely higher than fifty.
