News got around pretty fast, apparently.
Phil called me in for my debrief, and he still did a double take as I walked in.
“Kiara,” he said, rubbing his few tufts of hair. “Wow, I barely recognized you.”
“What?”
I was dressed as conservative as usual, and it wasn't like Deacon had made me get a tattoo.
“Really got some sun out there, huh?”
“Oh, yeah. A little bit.”
“How was the project? Did you enjoy yourself?”
Enjoy myself? “It went well. And yeah, international travel was exciting.”
“Mm-hmm.” He looked on, patiently
Was he really trying to get me to talk about Deacon? Well, no dice.
“Did you get the feedback from Stone Holdings on our proposals?” I asked.
“Yep. Glowing as usual. They singled Leo and you out for outstanding presentations.”
“We worked well together.”
“You and the Stone leadership?”
I squirmed my fingers behind my back. This was getting annoying now. “Yeah, Leo and I spent a lot of late nights with Mr. Stone.”
Phil's eyes shot wide. “I see.”
Let them chew on that. It had only happened once, and obviously Deacon and I hadn't done anything in sight of Leo. But if I was going to be the daily tabloid for the whole office now, I wasn't going alone.
“So,” Phil said. “I fixed some small typos in your submission. Nothing big, but not your usual style.”
“Really?” I grabbed the document on his desk. “I'm sorry.”
“Ah it's not too bad. It was just surprising.”
The report for Deacon had been perfection. This one, I had rushed off. Even before Deacon had asked, I was already more interested in working for him that my current job.
“So, you ready to move on?” Phil asked.
“Move on to what?”
“To your next assignment. I was going to make you lead for a smaller project, but this oil consult came in. I thought you could handle it.”
The memory of the desert installation came rushing back. The sight of the thousands of dark scales whirring towards the sun, gazing up almost reverently.
Deacon's words echoed in my ear:
Decide what you believe in and go for it hard.
“Anything in renewables?” I asked. “I'm still kind of in that renewable gear.”
“Not locally.” Phil tapped at his computer. “I can try to get you staffed further out, but it'll take a while. This oil case should be easy in the meantime.”
My firm had given me a bit of choice, but that's all it could give me. If I stayed here, I'd be choosing to believe in that freedom over anything else. How had I gone so long without seeing that?
Well, I wasn't going to just walk out now. “Fine,” I said.
“Awesome. I'll send you the details. Glad to have you back with us.”
I returned to my desk. The cube felt small and claustrophobic. Before, I had never really been here, not really. I was lost in my work. But it was almost hard to breath now.
Deacon was right. The only freedom we had was to pick the things we chained ourselves to. But that didn't mean I should chain my whole life to one man. He already occupied my personal life, and now he wanted to take over my professional one, too.
Sure, it would probably look good, especially with a title bump. And sure, the project itself was almost as exciting as he was. But after I saw last night, it was hard to think of it as anything but fragile.
I could lose him and the job in one fell swoop, or one by one. We might end up fighting over work, or get tired of seeing each other, or I could make him look bad, or he could hurt me trying to look good. My heart raced as I spun through all the awful futures that could come out.
A cool drink of water cleared my head. Maybe none of that would happen. We could walk that tightrope together, grow stronger together, build big things together. It was a small chance maybe, but the path to heaven went through a needle's eye. You didn't get there without a little faith.
That had been one of my father’s lines. If I could even see the merit in that, then Deacon was certainly worth a lot more of my trust.
I ate lunch at the office alone. More glances came my way as I passed through the cafeteria with my tray. It was like high school all over, not that I'd ever done anything to be the center of attention then.
I was already Deacon's girl now here. I'd dreaded this moment all along and now it had arrived. It wasn't half bad actually. I
was
Deacon's girl. He'd been
very
clear on that last night, when we'd somehow ended up at my place. For the first time, we'd actually been together in my room.
Deacon's girl. Just the words brought me a smile. They might chain me to him, but they weren't a cage. Right now, they could set me free from this place.
I plunked through the oil report. Luckily, it was easy enough to get done while daydreaming. I barely even noticed the smiles playing around my coworkers lips when I talked to them on coffee breaks. My eyes were set on bigger things.
My mood was bouncy by the time I got back home. Deacon was well occupied dealing with yesterday's fall out, so I had the night with Mira. Or at least I thought I did.
Mira was already on the couch, chilling with Antoine. She lay splayed in Antoine's lap, holding Snowflake, while he stroked her hair like a dog. There literally wasn't room for me between the three of them.
Ok, this I did not need Deacon to set me free from. I wanted these two around.
“What are you guys watching?” I dropped my purse off and plonked down on the carpet next to them.
“Just trivial nonsense,” Antoine said, slowly popping a sun chip into his mouth.
“That's most of everything on TV these days.” I settled in. “Wait, this is Shark Tank. That's not so trashy.”
“Less rednecks, more yuppies. Same harebrained ideas. Same nonsense.”
“Antoine and I are going to pitch a fashion line on the show,” Mira murmured. “That way I can stop working at Starbucks and get back to art.”
“That's really cool.” They definitely would never pull it together, but imagining it with them was almost as good. “What's it going to look like?”
“Not sure yet. It's all up here.” Mira stabbed her nose by accident before finding her forehead.
“Oh.” That sounded judgy, so I added. “If you guys do go on, I can do your financials.”
“Aw, thanks mama.” She absently patted my shoulder. “I know you're there for us.”
“Bringing home that sugar.” Antoine said. His slender hand ruffled through my hair.
I smiled and nestled my head back into Antoine's lap. Deacon was just continuing the evolution of Kiara that these two had started. I could definitely bring enough sugar for these two if I joined Stone Holdings. It'd be a blessing not having to worry about money.
We watched entrepreneurs cry and made fun of commercials pleasantly for, oh, maybe ten minutes before my phone started buzzing. The two snarled at me as I rushed to pick it up. If it was Deacon, he'd need to take a raincheck.
The caller was considerably easier to say no to, though. The caller id read “Mom.” She wasn't even trying to trick me into answering.
After Deacon's continued horror at every story from my childhood, I'd thought about removing her contact altogether. I knew the number by heart to avoid it.
But I hadn't.
And now, something kept from declining the call. Maybe I'd had my daily vaccination against nutjob mothers. But I actually wanted to hear something from her, too.
I took the phone to my room and shut the door.
“What?” I said.
“Kiara?” Her voice was low and surprised.
“Yeah, who else? You called me.”
“You just never pick up anymore.”
“Well, I did now. Say your piece.”
“Kiara, you need to come home and visit. Your father is very ill. Please, just let him see you.”
Despite everything, my chest tightened a bit.
Not for him. Never for him.
But my mother had a sad aura about her that had only deepened. She had been under his control for so long. Facing the wide open world must be horrifying.
“I can't do that, Mom,” I said. “I can't forgive him.”
She just breathed on the other end. Was this the depth of her argument? Her only plan was to try to get me to pity the monster that had ruled my life?
Suddenly, I knew what had compelled me to pick up. I had to know why she'd become who she was. How had she submitted so deeply to his will? Even with him sick, she was still begging on his behalf.
I didn't ever want to turn out that way. And deep down, it had always been a worry: Could Deacon's love be a blindfold too? It felt empowering, but maybe that's what my mom thought, even as my dad silenced her strength.
“I won't meet him,” I said. “But I'll meet you.”
Her breath caught. “You will?”
“Not at home. How about a Starbucks?”
“Alright.”
We set it up for the weekend. I gave her Mira's branch address.
“Thank you, Kiara,” she said. “I hope I can change your mind.”
“Don't expect that,” I said. “I'm only planning on talking.”
I hung up and stood in my dark room. What was the best that could happen? I'd find out how she succumbed and make sure I wasn't walking down that path. Anything more was a bonus.
But my thoughts went quickly to the night before. Deacon had his own messed up family relationship. Still, they all seemed to stay in each other's lives even as they held a knife at each other's throats. Maybe that was better than nothing.
I went out, and perched back by the sofa.
“That your mysterious boy toy?” Antoine asked.
“It was my mother.”
They shuffled on the sofa behind me. “What?” Mira said. “You talked to her?”
“I did. And we're going to talk more in person.” I turned around. “It'd be nice to have some support.”
“I suppose I can make time,” Antoine said. “But what are you doing this for? You get along worse with your folks than I do with mine.”
“She's trying to fix that, duh,” Mira said.
“No.” They looked at me expectantly. “I'm just trying to understand her.”
They turned back to the TV and I thought quietly to myself:
So I can be sure I don’t make the same wrong choice that she did.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Deacon
When I expected a late night, I liked to move myself to my ground office. It was a little room off on its own, almost like a garden shed, but with glass walls, minimalist furniture and a solar lit roof. It sat just on the shores of the company pond.
I liked being close to water. Watching the ripples helped me think.
And it soothed me, which I certainly needed now.
“I don't accept that answer,” I said, gazing out at the moon’s reflection in them.
“Then don't accept it, ya dumbass,” Trey said behind me. “Give up the entire deal. See if I care.”
I turned to Trey. His suit jacket was already off on the chair. His brown arms were damp past his rolled sleeves.
“You're not giving me enough money to work with, you penny-pinching bastard. I can't buy a controlling stake in Habibi solar with ten million. We give more to charity than that.”
“Blame your old man. Or his lawyers. These rules are ironclad.”
“Fuck,”
I slammed a palm into the glass wall. I had control of a goddamn aircraft carrier, but my father had jammed the rudder before he departed the world. I couldn't maneuver out of this mess.
“Well, Jesse's on board,” I said. “That's got to amount to something.”
“Not according to this charter.”
“Two thirds of the company wants to do something and they can’t?” I said. “Two thirds is enough to pass a goddamn law without the president.”
“Your family has a very unique take on checks and balances.”
I fogged the glass with exhausted breath. This thing had sucked up my entire week, and I had nothing to show for it. Winning was supposed to prove something to Kiara. Instead, I had wasted time that could have gone to her. It'd been days since I'd seen her last.
Friday night and I was here. We were even dry on alcohol. Trey and I were drinking Swiss water that tasted worse than what came out of a tap. I had tried sending Demetri to get something useful to drink, but he said he was in the middle of a thing with his girlfriend. Either I was getting sentimental, or that kid was learning how to play me.
I sat next to Trey. He looked like weathered wood, with sweat running down his face. Guy had bled for this deal, no question in that.
Maybe he could do more.
“Any chance you would be willing to-”
He cut me off with a knowing dip of the head. “Man, I know you're not asking me to cook numbers for you. I know Deacon Stone would never be so dumb.”
I slapped my forehead and collapsed hard into the chair back. “Oh, fine, yeah, that was dumb. I'm just out of my mind here.”