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"Nina does know that you have money. She has money, too. Well, nowhere near this much, but enough."
"See, that's what I mean. You showed no discretion whatsoever! That's why your freewheeling lifestyle has to end. You're coming back into the fold. Starting today."
"No," I said, starting to get really angry again, "I'm not. You can't just tell me what to do like I'm some sort of..."
"Servant? Yes, I can, because in the end, that's what you are in this situation. I'll never hurt you physically, and I don't want to hurt you emotionally, but...I will if you push me to it. I have all the cards and the power here, although I'd prefer to come to an equitable arrangement with you. I'm not asking you to give your old life up. I'm asking you to split your time. You live here for the majority of your time, and you're free to do what you want with the other portion. You shift away from teaching and more into research and writing. The university has already approved this, after a substantial donation. You keep your friends, and yes, even your 'arrangement' with Nina if you want, but you get more involved in the company. If I wanted to hurt you, really ruin your life, think about how easily I could have accomplished it, given what I've done with the merest exercise of my influence."
The fear had returned it not as severely as before. I realized now how much thought Isa had put into this. She was smart, far smarter than I was, to be honest. I was on thin ice. If I did the wrong thing here, it was very likely someone else would suffer first, probably Nina, or one of my other friends. Or my academic reputation. My family had always known how to play dirty.
"Fuck. I don't even know what you want. Do you want me to help you run weapons programs and then sell then to the Pentagon? What else, maybe buying some orphans for cheap labor offshore? Running a drug operation? I mean, really, the sky's the limit for the De Heer family."
Isa actually chuckled at that.
"Don't be so dramatic. If you agree to my terms and make a good faith effort to get involved, then yes, you will have real power. And if that means shifting some investments away from what we could both agree on as being unethical, then so be it. But we do it together. You don't dictate anything to me, and we don't do mass layoffs. Jobs must be guaranteed to a reasonable level. And, of course, the more you participate and involve yourself, the less restrictive I will be. Make no mistake, I will always be in charge of your future from here on out. But I can be a pleasant mistress. I want to be. So, are you in, or are you going to make this more difficult than it has to be?"
I let the silence hang in the air between us, trying to ignore her choice of words. I didn't want the money, but I didn't want the responsibility either. Now that it was offered to me, however, I had to consider it. If I didn't improve things where I could, didn't that make me as much of a hypocrite as my father? And if anything happened to my friends, or Nina especially, I'd never forgive myself. Fuck, Isa had trapped me with my own idealism. In the back of my mind, I knew that I was making a devil's deal, but I really didn't feel like I had any choice.
"Fine."
* * *
10 Years Ago - Rachel
* * *
Seeing Rachel had brought a lot of memories back for me. It was a confusing mix of nostalgia, lust, longing, and if I'm honest, real love. Three years before I left, things had changed between us. Forever.
Isa and I had kicked off the summer after our Junior year with a mutual 18th birthday party, which was rather formal and truly for our parents' friends. Our parents' plans for us mostly revolved around something of a lightning apprenticeship in the family business. We spent some time shadowing various De Heer personnel during the week, primarily acting as interns. Only a very few knew the truth of our identities, which was father's intention. Beyond our opportunities, he wanted no special treatment for his children. We spent time together in quite a few financial capitals, and more importantly, to us, cultural and entertainment centers. For the first time in our lives, we had limited freedom during the evenings and on weekends. We ate the best ramen in the world in Tokyo, saw Shakespeare in London, took some exclusive studio tours in Los Angeles, and even saw some burlesque theater in New York. We were followed by security and often accompanied directly by Rachel, of course. However, it was still a lot of fun.
We were in Chicago when it happened. On the Friday night before we were to leave, Rachel came to my door and told me to come with her. I followed her to Isa's room, and I was surprised to find my sister packing her bags, dressed in business clothes that I recognized as her preferred traveling attire.
"What's going on?" I probably came off a bit annoyed, which was unfair. Isa looked up, eyes apologetic, but Rachel answered for her
"Don't blame her. Your mother wants her to meet her in Toronto for something of a girls' weekend."
"Really?" I asked. "That's...odd."
"I know," Isa said, "and I'm a bit suspicious of her motives. She says that she wants to introduce me to her friends in charitable NGOs. Apparently, that kind of thing is only appropriate for ladies. I think that she's taking me to meet some potential suitors. I don't really want to be shown off as a piece of meat, but I guess that good daughters obey their mothers."
"I suppose that I'm not invited," I noted with a little bitterness. This had been a fun time for us, and I was looking forward to at least a few more weeks with Isa. And despite not admitting it to myself, I felt a twist in my gut at the idea of Isa dating or marrying some other man.
"Well, don't feel left out," Rachel said with a strange smile on her face. "I've been instructed by your father to take you to meet some of your more...secretive business associates."
"She means criminals," Isa said with a small moue of distaste.
Rachel all but confirmed this with her expression, and I did not push it, knowing that she wouldn't answer any of my questions. I said my goodbyes and hugged Isa before Rachel took her to the airport. She would take some of the bodyguards with her, but I knew that at least four more would be close by and probably more monitoring everything from wherever the security room was. Still, my mind wasn't focused on my security. As I returned to my own room on the same floor, I had one thought on my mind: I was going to be alone with Rachel for the foreseeable future.
* *
The following morning I got up early and met Rachel in the well-appointed lobby. She'd clearly been up for a while, and her face was stony as she spoke softly to two much larger men, who I knew were part of my detail. After a moment, they hurried out the sliding front doors.
"What's up?" I wasn't apprehensive, but I knew something odd was going on.
"We've had threats. We're just ensuring that everything is covered."
"Threats? Against me?"
Rachel frowned.
"That's the problem. They were made against the organization as a whole, by a different family. Very few people even know you're here, but we're still taking extra precautions. Our car is being brought around right now. I won't be driving. Today my only job is your bodyguard."
Rachel said it like a challenge.
"All right. I trust you to make the right decisions."
Rachel sighed, and for a moment, we were quiet. The only noise was people talking at the front desk and the sound of traffic from outside. It wasn't bustling where we were on a Saturday morning, but it was still Chicago.
A black SUV pulled up outside, but Rachel didn't move. I waited, knowing her well enough to know that she had something to say.
"Don't trust me too much," she said, barely over a whisper.
"Why not? I know you'd never betray me."
"Maybe, but it's good practice. Think for yourself, see things as they are, not how you want them to be. Maybe you'll catch someone before anything bad happens. Maybe you'll even save someone else."
I just nodded and followed her out to the car. I rolled the brief conversation in my mind as we traveled in silence, her, only a few feet away in the backseat. Usually, Rachel was the 'cool older girl' that I never had a chance with. She was friendly, fu
nny, and even kind when others were or could not be. No matter what, she had previously kept things lite. Even the slight flintiness with me was understood by me to be a joke, just her teasing me.
I won't pretend that I didn't have a massive crush on her, though. I did. And the fact that she stayed in touch while I was away in boarding school was enough to make my late-teenaged brain think that I had a chance. Of course, in my rational moments, I knew that she was just a good friend, and I had few enough of those that I wouldn't ever risk our relationship by clumsily trying to seduce her.
I was expecting a skyscraper or at least a mansion. What I got was the alley behind a restaurant. Rachel got out first, smiling at me in her infuriating, knowing way.
"This place has the best Italian Beef sandwiches in town," she said, as she held the filthy door open for me. I stepped inside. The kitchen was busy but clean. All of the cooks and waiters studiously ignored us, doing their jobs. I noted that there was not a single woman there, save Rachel.
We entered a small space, busy for the early lunch. Couples ate, only eyes for each other. At other tables, people did business, legitimate or otherwise. In the back corner, at a circular table, sat three men. None of them looked how I expected, which I suppose was like extras from Goodfellas. They could have been any three retired men, albeit well dressed, eating lunch together.
They stood, and Rachel made introductions as I shook hands.
"Mr. Artelli, Mr. Rendstadt, Mr. Joseph, may I present Reuben De Heer, heir to Rudi De Heer."
"I will speak for us," Mr. Joseph said, with strange formality, "Please sit, and eat with us, Mr. De Heer."
"Thank you," I said, sitting. Food was brought to us, simple, sandwiches, but delicious. Beef and sausage covered in giardiniera on rolls soaked in au jus. Wine was poured for us, deep and red. No attempt made to card me.
"We run import and export for many firms, Mr. De Heer, but you are our most important client. We do not question the product, and we make good on every delivery. Failures are refunded at double what you pay, so we do not fail often. For these services, we are at your beck and call, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. No holidays or vacations. We have yet to have an order from the De Heers that we could not complete. Questions?"
"Yes," I said, with some hesitance, "but I will wait for them later. Why don't you explain the ins and outs of what I need to know, and maybe after that we can speak about the future."
The three men smiled, almost in unison. The next hour was spent with Mr. Joeseph explaining the logistics of crime. Real crime, I mean. The movement of people, guns, drugs, dangerous biological or chemical products. Anything. God help me. I thought it was cool. I had no understanding of the depths of human misery behind this kind of work. In my defense, I was naive then, and at no time was there mention of sexual slavery, or what happened to couriers who failed, or any other messy details. It was all a high-level view of routes, times, needs, and pricing. When the lunch was done, I was stuffed with both illicit knowledge and food.
"I hope this was edifying for you, Mr. De Heer," Joseph said, standing to show us out the way we came, "We look forward to doing business with you."
"It was," I said, "and thank you for your hospitality."
As we strode out the back into the alley and the warm summer stink of the alley struck me, I frowned.
"Rachel," I said, "that was...odd."
She smiled at me as we got into the back of the waiting SUV together.
"How so?"
"We sat there for an hour with three men, and only one spoke. I swear that the other two barely even breathed. What are they, really? The Mob?"
"That's what you're here to understand, Reuben. Before today would you have thought that you could have made a phone call and had anything delivered anywhere? No matter how dangerous or illegal, with little to no chance of it being intercepted by any governments?"
"No," I admitted.
"We, and by we I mean the De Heer family and its interests, are not simply rich. We are powerful. We don't deal simply with the corporate overworld or the criminal underworld. We live in the shadows, in what your father calls the demimonde. Outside of the four families, very few have access to it. It makes all the difference."
As the car pulled away, I considered what she said.
"Father had you memorize that speech, didn't he?"
Her rare blush gave me all the answers I needed. The way her skin complimented her auburn hair did something to me, then. More than ever, I was affected by her beauty. She wore the barest amount of makeup required by the society that she moved in and wore male suits tailored for her body, as father required of her, but it just enhanced her athletic frame. I felt a bit submissive in her presence. I wouldn't have been able to acknowledge it, as father had taught me that men must be dominant and in charge at all times and in all things, but I felt safer with her. Protected. And that mixed with my attraction to her in exciting ways.
"Well, I didn't memorize it word for word, but you get the idea. It was important that you see these men, strange as they are, and understand that the real power in the world doesn't drive flashy cars or live in the limelight. Celebrity is one thing, and you will always have some of that attached to you because of your name, but power is understated, dangerous, and easy to underestimate. Men like that can kill you if you become dangerous to them. Just as you can kill them."
That was the first time I'd ever even thought about having someone hurt, much less killed. The idea excited me and then disgusted me. I wasn't somehow who thought of themselves as "good," but I found murder for profit to be very disturbing. Rachel must have noticed that I was affected because she changed the subject immediately.
"Do you want to go out tonight? With me, I mean? See the sights, maybe get into some trouble?"
"Yeah," I said, "sounds like fun."
* *
The rest of the afternoon was a bit of a blur. I had some free time, but my mind kept drifting to the night ahead of me. I tried to read, but the way Rachel had looked at me earlier made me sweat. By the late afternoon, I just gave in and went to work out in the hotel gym. I sweated the frustration, attraction, and nervousness out. Not all of it, but enough to avoid making a complete ass of myself.
A little after eight pm, my phone buzzed with a message. Meet me downstairs in 20. In theory, I was her boss, but I had no illusions about who was in charge.
I dressed up in a slick suit coat, slacks, shoes. Daring black shirt, first few buttons left open, and a plain silver chain completed my look. I wasn't exactly the height of fashion, but I thought I looked good. I knew what I expected to find waiting for me downstairs: Rachel in her suit and several bodyguards discreetly placed around the lobby waiting to follow us out.
Instead, I only saw Rachel. To be honest, there could have been a hundred men pointing guns at me, and I wouldn't have noticed them. To me, Rachel was always a tomboy. If she wasn't in a suit, then she was off duty and in jeans. If she wasn't in jeans, then she was maybe training Isa or me and in some kind of form-fitting athletic wear. She was hot in all of these outfits, but all were masculine or at least androgynous, even f they were tailored for her feminine form. Tonight was different.
Rachel was dressed in a tight black dress, which stopped just above her mid-thigh. She was athletic and feminine in every way, and this outfit showed off every curve. She was facing away from me at first, and her ass was incredibly well-defined. As she turned and smiled at me, I could see that the dress went up to her neck and wrapped around to her back. Although it displayed no cleavage, it did nothing to conceal her breasts and left her arms and shoulders exposed. Her short auburn hair was styled in an artistically messy way. Thigh-high stockings and strappy black high-heels completed the ensemble.
Before I realized what I was doing, I stopped and stared for a long moment, then met her eyes. Thankfully, she just looked at me with amusement dancing in her eyes. I noted that she'd very carefully done her make up as well, including some red lip gl
oss that made me imagine what her mouth could do. All she held was a small purse.
"Ready?" She said as if we were just going to a meeting.
"I was when I left my room, but then I got off the elevator and saw you."
She smiled more widely.
"Flatterer."
"It's not flattery if it's true, Rachel. You look amazing."
At that comment, she actually blushed a little, which was gratifying. I looked around.
"No security tonight?"
"Oh, they'll be there, but I've instructed them to hang back a little tonight and give us...well, you, some space."
"Really? And why might that be?"
"Well," Rachel said, as she started walking towards the exit, "part of it could be that you've been working very hard while under a great deal of scrutiny this summer. You could use some space."
"Hmm," I said, catching up to her and offering my arm, which she took. "It could be that. Or it could be that you just wanted me all to yourself."
We passed through the automated doors into the cooler night air. Rachel stopped and looked at me. I was slightly taller than her, but her heels more than made up the difference.
"I think you could be right," she said, her voice strangely breathy. Then she kissed me. It was light, on the lips, almost chaste, but it had an impact like I'd just been punched in the gut. It took me a moment to recover, and by then, she was chuckling a little as she spun and walked away. I caught up with her quickly.
"No car tonight?"
"No need. There's a great restaurant and some clubs nearby. They won't be carding you. I've made arrangements. I was assuming you don't mind walking."
"You assumed correctly."
Walking down the street of a major city with a woman like this on my arm was a feeling of freedom that I'd never experienced before. I smiled, and soon Rachel broke the amicable silence.
"Penny for your thoughts?" she asked. "You look delighted."
"I am. Can I confess something to me?"