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“Erm, sure.” It was an odd setting for a meeting, in the middle of tens of people yelling, but I supposed there was no reason for me to decline. Except... “I’m not sure my recording device is gonna be able to filter out all of the arguing...”
Apollo strummed his fingers on the table. “Ah yes. Good point. Well, I think I can take a little break. I’d hate for any of my potently charming words to become lost to this... drivel.” He gestured around at the arguing people.
I looked around and smiled sympathetically. Suddenly, someone caught my eye. She was the only person who was standing but not actively engaged in an argument with someone else directly: she appeared to be listening to what was going on, trying to keep her ears in all conversations.
She was also, looking around, the only person, male or female, who was not wearing a suit. She was wearing a full-length black sparkly dress with a sequined corset bustier, and long black gloves. She looked more like she was here to provide entertainment of some kind – burlesque or singing – than to be participating in a board room meeting.
Even eerier than that, I kind of recognized her from somewhere. Her face was familiar, her stance, her smile...
She was looking back at me, so I glanced away. I didn’t like the look of that smirk. In general, it was unpleasant when anyone at Apollo’s company took notice of me. I didn’t know exactly what kind of person he employed, but I was getting the idea that they were all likely less than reputable.
“C’mon, Ms. Black. I doubt anyone will notice my absence for a little while.” Apollo stood, and I followed him to the door.
I exhaled in relief when it shut behind us and we were alone in the corridor. I hadn’t realized quite how overwhelming it had been to be sat in the middle of that chaos. I wouldn’t have lasted too long in there before having to leave, anyway, I realized.
We went next door to Apollo’s office, where I set up my recording device and declined the offer of a drink of any kind.
“Alright, I’m set up.” I looked up and forced a smile.
Apollo was stroking his chin, looking distinctly unhappy.
“Er, Apollo? What would you like to talk about today?”
He continued to stroke his chin, then slammed both hands down on the desk and leaned in as far as he could across the desk. “Abigail said she ran into you in St. Louis.”
“That is correct.” I struggled to keep my cool. The recording device glowed away reassuringly. If he murdered me right now, at least maybe there would be recorded evidence of it. Maybe someone would find it and take it to the police.
“I’m going to cut to the chase. You’re working for my brother, Sylvester, correct?”
I nodded.
It was interesting how Sylvester was so stern whenever anyone referred to Apollo as his ‘brother’ – he always corrected to ‘half-brother’. Whereas Apollo seemed less keen to put distance between them. He certainly was pre-occupied with his biological half-brothers. The majority of his first memoir had been tales of them, more so than of him. What had showed of Apollo in that memoir was largely the voice of the writing and the way the stories weretold– he hadn’t actually appeared in that many at all, apart from in sharing his opinions of how his brothers could have behaved better.
He leaned back into his chair. “I presume that Sylvester found out you were the author of my memoir, tracked you down, and begged you to write his, too?”
I nodded. “Actually, he wanted to pay me to not write your second one. But I declined.”
“Did he, now?” Apollo smiled, then, a broad and horrible smile that took up most of the lower half of his face. I realized with a sinking feeling that I’d just given him a ‘win’ – he now knew categorically that the book had achieved both jobs: getting the world on his side,andpissing off his half-brothers.
But this looked good for me, at least. If he was planning on eviscerating me somehow, maybe that I’d not taken the money to desert him would give me a slightly less violent gutting.
“That’s very, very interesting.” The grin was slowly fading off Apollo’s face – not because he seemed any less gleeful, but because I imagine it takes a lot of effort to sustain such a gruesome smile. “Well, I certainly have some inspiration for the next chunk of my memoirs. I’d like to talk a little about the families of my half-brothers.”
While a lot of his memoirs had centered around the misdeeds of Sylvester, Jude, Forest and Winston, they had steered clear of family stories, which I had thought made it quite tasteful, as takedowns went. I was wary of dragging the families of all considered into the picture for this book. But I was getting the distinct feeling that, if I disagreed, Apollo would simply find some way of making me write it anyway. Or he would just hire someone else in my place. There was a clause in the contract that allowed him to do that without having to pay a cancellation fee – I’d lose all the money I needed to pay for my dad’s orchestral surprise.
So I nodded. “Whenever you’re ready.”
He began: “The families of my brothers are quite curious in themselves. Of course, each of their biological mothers came across our shared father, Emory Brock, at some point in their personal history. And an odd assortment of characters they are...
“Jude Brock’s mother is a reclusive mathematical genius who no longer leaves her house. It is rumored she harbors, in her home laboratory, the code behind all of Emory’s major inventions for the period of time in which they were romantically involved. Jude was an only child, which accounts for his selfishness and lack of social skills...
“On the other hand, Forest Brock was conceived during athreesomeEmory Brock had with a couple of tree huggers during his short-lived ‘environmental’ phase. His parents named all of their children after different types of tree. ‘Forest’, unfortunately, was thelocationForest Brock was conceived in. They later spun that story into something more wholesome, something about Forest being the eldest which made him the forest that held all the trees of the family together... Of course, having hippie parents who praise everything you do has given Forest Brock an overinflated sense of his own intelligence and skill when it comes to computer science, which is why I had to extendBrock Industriesinto the technology realm, a realm formerly occupied solely byBrock Technology,in order to make sure there was some decent competition out there...
“Winston Brock’s mother is a particularly interesting tale. She purposefully conceived a child with Emory Brock, hoping to blackmail him out of some money. When he declined, she resentfully raised Winston to adulthood. Then, when he inherited one-fifth of the Brock businesses, she would periodically hit him up for money, until he eventually cut her off...”
I listened as much as I could to Apollo’s tales of the Brock families. And it was interesting, for sure. I just couldn’t help but focus on how little of Apollo’s own story there was in this memoir. One book focusing on his brothers was fine, but the critics were going to claim him overly preoccupied with his brothers if he spent another entire book talking about them. We needed something about Apollo himself to keep the readers interested. I needed more of his story.
When he slowed to a natural pause, I took the opportunity to ask my question. “What about your mother, Apollo?”
