Authors: Paul Watkins
This family, she says, is large, prominent and very image conscious. Publishing an article is more a public relations concern than just an article in a magazine and they approach the project in much the same manner as would a corporation. In fact that’s exactly what they are in every respect… a corporation. Their ties to the various governments in Europe as well as many of the large corporations and financial institutions make this article more than something light and airy for the casual reader, although that’s the way they would like it to appear. She goes on to say she misses everybody, and can’t wait to get home and see her old friends again, etc., etc.
I’m not surprised she’s staying longer, but I’m curious as to why she bothers to keep me up to speed on all the give and take of the project. I suppose I have an interest on some level, but I guess I would rather just let it go. We are both committed to our separate ways and most of the pain is behind me now and I would just as soon leave it that way.
I suspect Karen is very involved with the subjects of her new article or book in much the same way she became involved with the Jacksons when she did their article, only more so. I don’t think she becomes involved in a manipulative sense. It’s probably a natural by-product of the way she works and gets to know the people she writes about… all the ingredients that spell success. Whatever the reason, Karen has taken a different road and I continue to wish her well. I just wish I didn’t have these constant reminders that keep renewing memories I would just as soon let go.
A.J.’s back in town for a short spell and the long-awaited meeting with Monte James is finally going to happen. I don’t particularly care one way or the other, but A.J. wants to get it over with. The meeting is set for this morning at eleven and Monte is ten minutes early. He walks into the library and I rise to greet him since we have never met. He ignores my presence and walks directly to the bar.
“I’ll just help myself, boys,” he declares, taking a glass and selecting a bottle of whiskey.
“Make yourself at home, Monte,” A.J. says sarcastically.
“I will… don’t worry,” Monte replies without rancor.
His drink poured, he saunters over to the desk where A.J. is seated.
“This is Philip Richards,” A.J. says by way of introduction.
“I assumed as much,” Monte replies, taking a seat and continuing to ignore me.
A.J. notices Monte’s somewhat rude behavior and is obviously taking a slow burn. The tension in the room is palpable and any period of silence seems to provide fertile ground to accelerate it still further.
“This is your meeting, Monte,” A.J. declares. “We have a lot going on, so let’s not waste time.”
I’m amused, but I try not to show it. A.J. can be a real ball-buster and he shows no patience with Monte’s antics so far. I watch Monte arrange himself in his chair with exaggerated care, taking time to get everything just right.
He’s shorter than A.J., but much heavier. I would say he’s a little over two hundred pounds and at least three or four inches shorter… and it’s all muscle. His clothes are casual but tailored to show his trim figure to its best advantage. Looks like a tough customer who is not only ready, but very willing, too. His hair is close cropped with the part-line razor cut according to current fashion dictates.
An interesting specimen and one who is a little different from what I expected. I had imagined someone who was probably a little more bookish… no particular reason, just one of those things we all do from time to time… speculate about people we have heard about, but never met. This guy is far from bookish… thugish, I can buy, but not bookish.
“Well, A.J., as I told you in Chicago,” he begins, meeting A.J.’s direct gaze with one of his own, “I’m ready to come back and do my job. We had a little misunderstanding, but I’m sure we can work it all out. I wanted your new man to be here so we can make things clear from the beginning.”
He turns and looks at me for the first time.
“You would work for me, if I decide to keep you around.”
His gaze is steady and I imagine intimidating to some. It’s not my place to say anything at this point, so I don’t bother. A.J. watches Monte and remains calm. If anything, he appears somewhat amused. No tellingwhat A.J. is going to say to this, but I imagine it won’t be exactly what Monte wants to hear.
“I will get things organized around here,” he continues, “put the brothers back in charge. I understand you have a big security staff now. A.J., let’s face it… this kind of thing isn’t exactly your strong suit. You never liked all the work behind the scenes. You know I always handled it right and I’ll handle it right again. I’ve kept in touch and I want you to know I think it’s a damn shame what you have let this man do behind your back.”
‘This man’ refers to me, I guess, but Monte doesn’t bother going any farther with the identification other than a slight nod in my direction.
“Look, Monte,” A.J. begins, “if all you’re going to do is take cheap shots, then we might as well call it a day. I didn’t want to have this meeting at all, but Phil said we should let you have your say. Well, as far as I’m concerned, you’ve said it. I don’t have time for this shit. For you, of all people, to talk about someone taking advantage of me, doing things behind my back… all I can say is, whew, you have some major balls, man.”
Monte smiles and waits for A.J. to finish. I’m sure these two have never minced words when communicating with one another in the past and they’re sure as hell not doing it now.
“It’s the old story, A.J.,” Monte continues. “White man has the nigger working for him. This guy (I get another tilt of the head) is in charge and you’re doing all the work. He’s brought all kinds of people in here and you don’t know any of them. Who do you trust? A brother you have known all your life or whitey here, who walks in and takes over? You had better watch yourself, boy!”
A.J. laughs.
“Forget it, Monte. I’m not going to debate this thing with you. I don’t expect you to agree with me… don’t care one way or the other when you come down to it. I don’t hate you… you can’t help yourself. I could never turn my back on you after what happened between us. I don’t have that kind of problem now and I don’t want it again. You’re right, some of the new people aren’t brothers, but so far none of them have put their hands in my pocket. Don’t try playing the race card, Monte. I believed that stuff once and all it got me was a pack of trouble. Good people, bad people… they seem to come in all colors. It took me a while, but I think I’m coming to understand that part pretty well.”
A.J. pauses, waiting for an argument on the rather obvious point he has just made, but Monte makes no effort to rise to the bait.
“I wish you the best of luck,” A.J. continues. “If you want to stay in touch… fine, but you will never work here again. I’d say you can take that to the bank, but I’m afraid you’ve taken too much of mine to the bank already… if you know what I mean.”
He may be kidding, but he isn’t smiling at his last joke.
“Well, you’ll be sorry for that decision, A.J.,” Monte smiles and then pauses, “but it might take a little time.
You know me well enough to know I don’t take a screwing lightly. There’ll be a payback.”
“Don’t get goin’ in that direction, hotshot. I don’t want to have to throw your ass out of here.”
Monte pushes his chair back and I follow suit.
“I’ll see myself out, asshole,” he growls in my direction, finally acknowledging my presence with a direct look.
I’m pleased, even if it is a glare, although I don’t especially care for the asshole moniker.
“It’s okay, I’m going that way anyway,” I reply amiably. “Awfully nice to meet you.”
In the finer schools I attended we were instructed to say that instead of ‘fuck you’.
It’s all in the tone of voice. The actual words don’t really matter. I follow a couple of steps behind Monte when A.J. calls to me.
“Phil, can I see you later…”
Turning in response to the question, I’m about to reply when I see A.J.’s eyes grow wide… and that’s all I remember. I wasn’t down for very long, but long enough for Monte to clear out. A.J. is at my side as his face comes into focus. At first I don’t feel anything, but then the pain at the base of my neck makes itself known. He dropped me like a stone, only a stone would feel a little bit better than I do right now.
“Don’t move,” A.J. admonishes. “You could be hurt worse than you know. The sonofabitch nailed you good!”
I slowly move my hands and turn my head slightly. There’s no tingling sensation or other problems except for the pain. He knew what he was doing, I’ll give him that much. I push myself up from the floor slowly… I feel more embarrassed than hurt. God damn! How could I have been so stupid?
Never underestimate your enemy… and he is now an enemy… and he has underestimated me. I’m sure Monte thinks this is the end of it, but he’s wrong. Nowit will be over when I say it’s over.
***
A.J. and Sheri insist I have dinner with them. I told A.J. I would rather lay low tonight, but he won’t listen… I think he feels a little guilty about this morning. He shouldn’t. As far as I’m concerned, what happened was entirely my fault. Admittedly, I didn’t realize I was dealing with a crazy at the time, but I do now and it won’t happen again.
Monte’s attack tells me a great deal about him. His violence is more an outpouring of incredible anger and hatred than anything else. He’s used to settling his disagreements with his fists and if he can’t accomplish anything else he will at least punish the other person. Well he sure as hell accomplished his mission with me. I’m so frustrated I can hardly talk about it. I let that jerk in here, knowing what he’s about, and still I let him nail me! My pain is well deserved… serves me right.
We decided it would be best to keep all this from Sheri. It would cause her needless worry and there’s no reason for that now. It’s early, but a drink is definitely in order. I’m not going to have any alcohol,even wine, until this headache clears up. I don’t need any other reasons for an aching head right now. Advil makes me feel better, but it isn’t doing much for my ego at the moment. I’m not sure anything would help in that department except time.
Their wine and my water is no sooner poured than we are informed of the presence of one Jennifer Benson on her way up the drive. Jennifer’s in and out so often I would never give it a second thought, but Sheri seems a bit discomfited for some reason. She’s often restless before A.J. takes off on one of his jaunts, but he’s not leaving for a couple of days yet.
“I’m sorry, I should have called,” Jennifer announces gaily as she enters the library. “I was on my way home and I thought I would take a chance and see if you guys were in. Anything for the weary shopper?”
“Name your poison,” A.J. remarks, walking to the bar. “Since I’m the only really good bartender in the room, I will see to it that you have the best. Nothing but top shelf for you, my dear.”
“Wine would be fine, A.J.,” Jennifer says plunking herself down next to me. “White, please.”
She looks at me, smiles and gives me a little shove.
“How’re you doing, Philip? I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Yes, it must be all of three days now,” I reply, ever the charmer.
“You’re exactly right. It’s been far too long. Did you miss me?”
I don’t bother to answer with anything more than a slight smile and a nod, but I find myself thinking that I actually did miss her. She’s nice to have around. Never thought about it before, or perhaps I’ve tried not to. A strange silence quickly descends over our small gathering.
“Did I interrupt something?” Jennifer asks.
She has been around here long enough to know this kind of quiet is unnatural, but I don’t know any more than she does. We shake our heads in denial, but Sheri is the first to speak.
“We all arrived this very moment, Jennifer. A.J. was just pouring, so your timing is perfect.”
Well said, but if I didn’t know better I would think even Sheri sounds a bit strained. Everyone nods and murmurs of assent gradually return us to our silence. This is strange. It seems as though A.J. and Sheri are waiting for something to happen. More likely it’s my imagination. I think I’m seeing a hidden meaning behind every sentence and gesture after this morning’s episode with Monte.
“Was your shopping trip successful?” I ask. “Go any place special?”
“Not really,” she replies with a dismissive shake of her head. “I just went into the village to look around. There are a few new shops there.”
Then, directing her attention to Sheri, “Have you been in that new dress shop? The one in the remodeled house at the end of Main Street… I can’t think of its name… and I was just in it.”
She shakes her head and smiles at her confusion.
“I know where you mean,” Sheri replies, “no, I haven’t been in there yet. They must have just opened. What kind of store is it?”
Jennifer shakes her head and shrugs her shoulders.
“I’m not sure. I think they are going to have mostly casual clothes and sports apparel. The owner said they’re still waiting for a lot of their things, but I don’t know what she’s expecting. What they have is nice, but there isn’t much of a selection right now. They have done a wonderful job decorating it.”
Our heads turn as one in response to a commotion in the foyer.
Seconds later a radiant Karen stands in the doorway, arms outstretched, exclaiming, “I have returned! Let the celebrations begin!” She points to A.J. “Place a chair in the center of the room where I shall sit as you kneel and place your gifts before me and tell me how much you all missed me.”
A.J. and I stand as she walks swiftly across the room. Karen’s wearing a form fitting, pin striped suit that we used to refer to as a Ms. Biz outfit. Suitable for business occasions, but somehow sexy as hell. Sheri and Karen hug and air-kiss each cheek. Next, Karen stands on tiptoe to administer a kiss on the cheek to A.J. Then, without missing a beat, she whirls to face me and before I know what’s happening, she is in my arms kissing me passionately.
She pulls her head back, still with her arms around my neck she smacks her lips and says, “That was good, Philip. You’re forgiven.”