DITW 14-17: Odyssey 12

Kimmy sipped her water, psyche roiling and eddying, but only showing calm on the surface. She said, “Who’s with us?”

“I told you we had business here today. That wasn’t a joke.”

“Okay. So what’s the business?”

Devlin made like he would answer, but paused as they both heard a door opening down the hall. He held up a finger like she would know in a second anyway, and they listened as the clop of shoes came down the hall to the main room.

A man emerged from the hall and stood under the square archway between the foyer and the living room. He was young and well-dressed; a man not dissimilar to Devlin. Despite the suit’s quality tailoring, his muscular bulk was noticeable.

Devlin said, “Kimmy, this is my buddy, Glenn. We went to university together. I told you about him before.”

“Glenn, nice to meet you,” she said, leveling her eyes on Glenn’s crystal blues.

Glenn stepped down into the living room and shook her hand, his hand huge but soft and warm. “Hi, Kimmy. I believe I spent some time with your husband.” His voice was deep but creaky, like he held it tight in his chest and only let out a little air at a time.

“With Josh?” Just uttering her husband’s name sunk her heart. Not only had she wounded Josh with her own weapon, she had thrust him into Devlin’s dark and dangerous waters, thinking he could swim with sharks if he only tried.

“We met him for a Jay’s game,” Glenn said, then winked at Devlin. “I think we kept him out of trouble.”

Devlin said, “We had a good time that night.”

Glenn still held her hand, looking at her again. “I liked Josh. Josh is a good guy.”

“He really is,” she agreed. 

Glenn stayed smiling, putting his hands in his pockets. Devlin said nothing. She said, “What’s the business we’re doing?”

“You know the business, Kimmy,” Devlin said.

And she figured she was in trouble. The business. The business she’d exposed to Devlin’s dad. The reason she was here. Devlin and Glenn were going to pummel her, throw her on the bed and fuck every hole, cackling and laughing and punishing her the way she deserved. And she deserved it. She’d done awful things.

Then Devlin stepped away, heading for the passage into his kitchen, stepping down, waving like they should both follow. “You see, Glenn’s my deals guy. My money man, my main business hombre.”

Kimmy followed, stepping into the kitchen where sometimes she would reheat her lunch after having lunchtime sex with Devlin Stone while Josh was busy at work being a good husband. Glenn followed behind her.

Devlin turned when he reached the kitchen table and put out a hand, gesturing at a spread of books and papers and ledgers and file folders.

Her lips slimmed and her breath held choked in her chest, her neck tight, heart racing. All this paperwork. Evidence. It would outline and trace her transactions out of Devlin’s shell corporations into other shell corporations, back into Stone accounts, and then into her pocket to buy extravagances. Just for the thrill.

Devlin said, “This is the game plan.”

She looked at Devlin, and he smiled. She said, “What game plan?”

“Jesus, Kimmy, what game plan? What game plan do you think?” He looked at Glenn and said drolly, “I’m sorry, buddy. She’s usually on the ball.”

She said, “I wasn’t aware that Glenn knew what you are talking about. What are you talking about?”

Devlin braced his weight on the kitchen table, big hands spread out on the wood, his tie hanging down. “The vision. The game plan.”

Glenn stood beside her. “Devlin says you’re on board. He wants to take a sideways turn with the transport business.”

She nodded once, her mind racing ahead through possible chess moves, seeing no way this conversation would trap her into admitting she’d stolen money. “I’m on board,” she said, in a calm and rational tone, looking at Devlin. She wanted to say to him how he didn’t know what he was doing. Wanted to tell him he only wanted to start his own company so he could tell people he’d done it. He didn’t want to run a company. He didn’t have the brain or the drive. He was twenty-nine with the brain of a twenty-one-year-old. Young, dumb, and full of come.

She turned her head toward Glenn. “And you’re the main business hombre? Is that a C-suite position? I’ve never heard of it.”

Glenn smiled and assessed her with humor. He five-finger pointed toward the kitchen table and its array of business paraphernalia. “That’s the plan all laid out. The plan as Devlin sees it. We’ve worked it out. We used some of your ideas and then added a few twists and turns. Devlin wants me to run you through it, get your perspective.”

She said, “And then?”

Glenn shrugged, looked at Devlin, and then back at her. “Then we sign some papers.”

Devlin nodded, saying, “Contracts.”

  * 

It took Glenn about an hour to run through all the paperwork spread on the table. He held her hand through a guided tour of spreadsheets, projections, and analyses. Sometimes, he would double back and ask her pointed questions, making sure she was following along. Did Devlin not tell Glenn how they’d shared some of this information before? Was her involvement in this scheme as big a surprise to Glenn as Glenn’s was to her? Devlin had crafted his plan with two separate parties, and now he’d brought them together to see how they might interact. None of what Glenn showed her was surprising. It was all stuff she’d pre-considered or had already discussed with Devlin. Some things Glenn showed her were her own ideas. Devlin had taken them, given them to Glenn, who’d polished them, and now showed them back to her like they were his own. But she said nothing, only nodded and looked keen. In the end, with no more papers to turn over, no more spreadsheets to withdraw from a manila folder, Glenn showed his hands; he’d presented the case. What was left?

She gestured to the paperwork and asked Devlin, “Where does this leave us?”

Devlin said, “Where do you think it leaves us?”

“That’s why I asked, Devlin. Everything here is in place. It all makes sense. But why here and why now?”

“Because we’re moving forward,” Devlin said. “Much sooner than I expected.”

Again came that sharp feeling that this was a put-on. This was Devlin and Devlin’s father working together, creating some scenario where they would lull her into indicting herself.

She said, “And what do you want from me?” and then corrected herself. “What do you need from me?”

Devlin and Glenn shared a look, and Devlin crossed his arms and regarded her. He said, “A commitment.”

“What kind of commitment?”

Devlin said, “The written kind.”

And she said, “Like what? Sign in blood?”

He said, “That would be wonderful, but more dramatic than I need it.” He lifted a pen and passed it over to her, a Mont Blanc, the kind of pen one reserved for special events like this. She took the pen but didn’t remove the cap.

She said, “There’s one thing that’s missing.”

Devlin said, “What’s that?”

She said, “Glenn. Where does he fit in? Because before today, you only vaguely referred to other parties. Who is Glenn, and what does he want?”

Glenn laughed and shook his head. “I’m not part of it. I’m not looking for any piece of this. I just want the peripheral business. I’m not on the board. I’m not involved. I’m putting some money in and I have some others who want to pitch in as well. But I’m only, I guess, what you would call a consultant in the matter.”

Devlin said, “So what do you think?”

She said, “I wish I’d known what I was coming here for today. There’s a lot to go over, and Glenn did a great job explaining it, but I’m not signing it until I have more time to go through all this paperwork.”

Devlin nodded. “I understand that. That’s good. I kind of expected it, but you understand . . . the game plan can’t leave here. I can’t let you leave the apartment with this paperwork. If you want to read it, you have to stay here to do it.”

She thought for a long moment with both men staring at her, then placed the pen down on the kitchen table. “I’m going to need a little time.”

Glenn said, “No rush. Doesn’t even have to be today.”

Devlin interrupted him. “It would be better if it was today.”

Glenn looked at Devlin and said nothing. Then he nodded. “Well, I guess I’ll get going. You’ve got everything you need. You two need to work out what you’re going to do.” He extended his hand toward Kimmy again, and they shook over the kitchen table.

  *

Once Glenn was gone and they were alone, standing together in the foyer, she said, “That wasn’t fair, springing this on me. Why now? Why today?” She studied his eyes, looking for a tell, looking for a giveaway that this was part of a game—no, an entrapment; a snare. But even if it was a trap, the response wasn’t so simple as walking away from the trap, turning her back on it and leaving it still triggered. It was imperative she understood the trap’s mechanism.

“I told you. I’m moving my timeline up.”

“But who is Glenn? Tell me who he is.”

“I trust Glenn. You don’t trust him? His family’s mega-rich. He went to St. Andrews, U.C.C. . . . I met him at U of T. What are you worried about? He’s not on the board. Glenn’s not part of the business at all. He’s an investor.”

“I’m not on the board, either.”

“I know. I didn’t ask you to be. I just want you by my side. I want you working for me. That’s the only commitment I’m asking for.”

“That’s what you want me to sign?”

“That’s it. Sign a statement of intent.”

“That I’m legal counsel, is that it?”

“You’re not telling me you want to stay with Stone?”

“I’m not telling you that.”

Devlin studied her with calm resolve, then cocked his head, showing soft sympathy. “Am I putting too much pressure on you?”

“You know how much my life has changed this summer.”

“I know you still want what I want,” he said, and stepped into her space. His arms went around her middle and he held her close to him in an unusual embrace.

“I do,” she said, the bitter lie staining her tongue. “I really do.” There had been a terrible point where she had convinced herself she wanted this, and that seemed incomprehensible now. She only held a desire for Josh.

Devlin said, “Trust me when I tell you I know what I’m doing. You trust me, don’t you?”

“Of course. Of course I do.”

Devlin lifted her face, holding her jawline in his huge hands. “And you wouldn’t lie to me?”

The question caught her off guard, and she scrunched up her nose. She had no answer. She was used to Josh’s request for the truth, for an assurance she wasn’t lying or betraying him. But never from Devlin. Devlin’s nature wasn’t like Josh’s.

“Why would you even ask me that?”

Devlin sighed, his hands returning to his sides. He stepped back. “I’ve never let a woman get so close to me before.”

“Oh, bullshit,” she said. 

“What don’t you believe? That I haven’t let a woman get close, or that you are the woman I let get close?” He smirked to one side.

She said, “I don’t like you when you’re wistful. I like you when your confidence is colossal.”

“You think it’s weak when I ask if you’d lie to me?”

She raised her chin, narrowing her eyes on his. “You sound like Josh when you do.”

Devlin laughed and turned away, heading down the hall toward the bedroom. Any day of the week she would have followed without question, but today she stood frozen to the foyer floor, afraid of what might happen next.

Devlin stopped and turned. “Aren’t you coming?”

“I already spent an hour here. I should get back to the office.”

He frowned, puzzled. “You’re not coming to the bedroom?”

“I should go.”

Devlin raised his eyebrows, put his hands in his pockets. “I think you want to come to the bedroom, Kimmy.”

“I want to. I just don’t think I have the time.”

He smiled wider. “When you see what’s in the bedroom, you’ll make the time.”

“What does that mean?”

He smiled and turned to walk down the hall again. “Come and see.”

He kept walking. She called after him, “What do you want to show me?”

Devlin paused at the bedroom door. “You wouldn’t believe it if I told you. You’re going to have to come and see for yourself.”