Diving Deep Page 6

  The start of our junior year, I suggested we get an apartment off campus and she balked, telling me her parents wouldn’t pay for her housing unless she lived in the dorm. Even though I knew it was a lie, her parents would never deny her anything, I let it go because that was what I did when she got upset. I let shit go. I caved. Gave in because I was afraid of where a fight would take us.

  The summer between junior and senior year, Lexi spent the summer in Italy. According to her it was a family trip and I wasn’t invited. Another lie that I let go. The only thing that kept me sane was knowing we’d be together in the fall. Before she left, Lexi finally agreed to move in with me.

  She’d keep her dorm to keep up the pretense of living on campus to her parents, but I leased an apartment off campus and spent the summer moving our stuff in and planning how we’d live together in that apartment overlooking the lake. We had one more year in Madison before we had to worry about the real world and I was going to make sure it was the best year of our lives.

  But she bailed. When she came back from Italy she avoided me as much as possible. Spent less and less time with me, more nights in her dorm than at the apartment. We hadn’t even hit midterms before she lowered the boom on me. She wanted to date around. But after the Big Fight, she admitted she’d met someone in Italy and even though they weren’t together, she’d decided she didn’t want to be with me anymore.

  It was over, just like that.

  Seven years of my life gone.

  I quit going to classes. I couldn’t face Madison. I hated Wisconsin. After fall semester I packed up and went home to New York.

  I’ve been there ever since.

  My entire life I’ve done the right thing. Everything I was supposed to. I’ve maintained a 4.5 GPA since junior high. I was senior-class president. Editor of our high school yearbook. Played multiple varsity sports. I volunteered, much to the disdain of my capitalist father. I fell in love with the perfect girl and while all my friends fucked around and changed girlfriends like they changed their socks, I remained faithful. I loved her and I thought she loved me. I thought it was forever.

  And I was wrong.

  After she left me everything changed. I changed. It’s like I made a mental list of everything she hates and I’ve spent the last eighteen months doing every single one of them.

  Lexi hated drinking.

  I’ve been drunk for a solid year.

  Lexi was the only girl I’d ever been with.

  Since the break-up, I can’t even remember all the girls I’ve fucked.

  Lexi hates facial hair.

  I can’t even remember the last time I shaved.

  Lexi hates tattoos.

  I keep trying to get one but the shops keep turning me away because apparently, you have to be sober to get inked or some shit.

  And to top it off, I quit school—one year left and I have no plans to go back.

  Niles and Mom dragged us to Grand Cayman for two weeks to celebrate New Year’s and I’ve kept up my routine of drinking myself blind and screwing everything I can get my hands on because even though I hate what I’ve become, I see no reason to change now because what’s the goddamned point?

  Lexi is gone and she isn’t coming back.

  Fuck Lexi. She never loved you.

  “Hey, you wanna catch a cab to that chicken place I told you about?” I stop walking and turn toward the street. “I’m starv—”

  “No chicken. I think it’s serious this time.” Alicia urges me to start walking toward the condo. “Mom’s really upset. She and Niles have been in the middle of a closed-door parenting summit all morning.”

  That’s not good.

  Usually, Mom complains about my outrageous behavior until Niles tells her to go shopping and that’s the end of it. If they’re actually talking about me, I’m screwed. “What’re they saying?” I know Alicia. She’s been eavesdropping.

  She shrugs. “I tried to listen but Sunny called from Aspen and I missed most of what was said.”

  “Sunny called?” My self-concern takes a backseat. “Is she okay?”

  “It’s Sunny.” Alicia laughs. “As usual she’s in the middle of a crisis.” Shaking her head, she frowns at me. “Focus, Zach. Niles sent me to find you.”

  I know what she means. When it comes to his darling progeny, Niles’ M.O. is to pretend we don’t exist. I suspect he thinks of me and Alicia as Mom’s pets, something like a matching set of Shih Tzu lapdogs. He only gets involved when we annoy him too much. He’d tolerated Ming-li and Shu-ling until Ming-li (or maybe it was Shu-ling) chewed a hole in his favorite cashmere sweater.

  Then they disappeared.

  Same happened to me and Alicia. We’d been comfortable, living our Park Avenue existence until the chicken pox debacle. I’d been in the sixth-grade, and Alicia had been in the fourth. Niles and Mom had planned a month-long African trip, complete with safaris and time in the wilderness. Alicia caught the chicken pox and then I did, too. Mom insisted they cancel the trip. Within two months, both Alicia and I were shipped off to boarding school, where we’d both stayed until we graduated and headed off to college.

  At least he let Mom pick a co-ed boarding school, so we could stay together.

  We shuffle along the cracked sidewalk, ambling toward boarded up beach bars and t-shirt shops. The sun sparkles on the ocean and a soft breeze cooled my feverish hangover.

  If Mom and Niles are fighting behind closed doors, that meant he was annoyed. I pull back on Alicia’s arm. “Let’s get some breakfast at that bakery downtown.”

  “No chicken. No bakery.” The corner of her mouth flattens. “You can run, big brother, but you can’t hide.” She directs me down the narrow sidewalk to our resort.

  The circular drive in front of the open-air lobby bustles with morning activity. The smell of bacon and deep-fry grease from the restaurant nearly gagged me. I need Cool Ranch Doritos to feed my hangover. Families with grade-school-aged kids wander through on their way to the all-inclusive breakfast buffet, dressed in swimsuits and cover-ups. A group of older couples congregates in the corner, teasing and laughing while they wait for their excursion bus to take them to Sting Ray City.

  They all look fresh and clean and well-rested, ready to face a day of fun and adventure. I look down at my bare chest, grungy shorts and dirty feet. I suppose my shirt is at the Lexi lookalike’s room. Who knows when or where I’d lost my flipflops.

  I grab Alicia’s arm. “What time is it? I glance around for a clock. “Bar opens in a half hour. Let’s wait. Or we can go someplace else. There has to be a bar open somewhere.”

  She stops and faces me while a thin woman in spiked heels and a wide-brimmed sun hat clicks around us. “You need to sober up.”

  “I am sober.” That’s the problem. I scan the lobby, looking for a helpful concierge who’d fetch me a drink for a fat tip.

  “Technically.” She puts a hand on my arm. “But only for as long as it takes to find an open bar.”

  The fact that I’m being judged by the person who gave me a rum punch wake-up call less than fifteen minutes ago is a little hard for me to swallow. “What’s your point?”

  She looks like she has one. Like she has a lot to say but knows it’ll be wasted on me. Finally, she just shakes her head. “Let’s just go see what Niles and Mom have to say.”

  Spending the night on the beach, waking with a wrecking ball in my skull and listening to my sister tell me what a loser I am, sounds like a cotillion compared to facing Niles.

  If I procrastinate, sometimes he’ll get busy with work and forget about whatever I’ve done. I have a feeling my stall tactics won’t work this time.

  With a longing look at the shaded pool deck, I follow Alicia to the elevator.

  Twenty-three floors later the elevator spits us out on the top floor. Our suite has amazing ocean views, a balcony for each of the three bedrooms and two common areas, as well as a cook’s kitchen—which we only use if Niles feels the urge to create one of his gourmet meals. He
isn’t that good at relaxing. When we come to Cayman, he’ll spend maybe one afternoon at the pool. Then he gets restless. He’ll go for lunch and drinks with his banking contacts and investment friends, or shop with Mom in the custom-free jewelry or fur shops. When all else fails, he’ll spend hours preparing some sort of seafood dish with a paragraph-long name involving reductions and sauces and herbs. They usually taste okay.

  We use the condo a couple of times each year. Mom likes to fly down for long weekends occasionally and Niles uses it when he’s here on business. But mostly it sat empty.

  Niles stands by the slider looking out on the incredible blue of the ocean. Mom, in her white jeans and flower-print flowing blouse, sits on one of the suede sofas. She crosses her long, thin legs and her high-heeled foot taps at the air in irritation. Neither speak as I walk into the room.

  Alicia disappears. She knows not to be around in case some of my guilt slipped off me and stuck to her.

  Mom speaks first, her brightly painted mouth pulled into lipless anger. “Where the hell have you been?”

  This is new. She’s usually all, a child needs to express himself tolerance. I used to try to get her to react, like the time I got a Mohawk, or the phase where I gave money to every beggar on the street. She never did anything but offer me some sort of vaguely encouraging gesture. Well, I guess I’m finally getting a reaction.

  At the sound of her voice, Nile turns and advances on me, rage wavering around the edge of his words. “Never mind. Sit down.”

  I lower myself onto the settee across from Mom. “I ended up staying with Jake…”

  “Shut up.” It wouldn’t have been more effective if he’d shouted it.

  This was going to be bad. My mind’s racing, trying to figure out a way to head him off at the pass. Niles probably has a plan to send me back to school. He probably put in a call to one of his cronies at Harvard and secured a place for me when classes started for second semester.

  Going back to school is probably my best course of action but no way am I going to Harvard. Too close to home.

  I sit up straight and face Nile’s restrained rage head-on. “I’ve been a real screw up lately. But it’s time I get myself back on track.”

  Mom lets out a long breath of relief, but Niles only glares.

  I hurry on. “I had a setback when Lexi broke up with me but, you know, I didn’t really like Wisconsin, anyway. I know I shouldn’t have left mid-semester like I did but I’ll make it up. I’m ready to go back to school.”

  “You see?” Mom cast pleading eyes to Niles. “He gets it. He’s sorry and ready to straighten up.” She looks at me and smiles. “Aren’t you Zach?”

  “Absolutely.” I nod. “I’m thinking I’d like to finish my final year at Stanford. It might be tough to get in for this year, but I could do spring semester at a state school in California and be ready to jump in next fall.”

  Relieved that I’m finally making some sense, Mom looks at Niles. “Didn’t Sherwood graduate from Stanford? Your firm donated a ton. You can fix it so he can get in, right?” Sherwood was Nile’s business partner.

  Last semester notwithstanding, I have the grades to get into Stanford on my own. I don’t want or need his help getting into college, but I don’t say anything. Not wanting to take his help would just start another round of fighting. Niles is a firm believer in nepotism.

  When no one says anything, Mom licks her lips and smiles up at Niles. “It’ll be okay. See? He understands what’s wrong and is going to fix it himself.”

  Niles steps closer to Mom and reaches his hand out to rest it on her bare neck. He might not have much use for me or Alicia, but he adores Mom. I never see them fight. She accepts him in all his uptight, asshole glory and he worships her. I’m sure he never wanted kids but agreed to have us because Mom wanted to be a mother. It makes sense that we grew up calling her Mom and him Niles. He puts up with us, ignores us as much as possible and indulges us to keep her happy. That’s the extent of our relationship.

  He speaks to Mom now, like I’m not here. “He’s only saying what he thinks you want to hear.”

  Mom’s face crumples slightly. “He understands he’s on a bad path and if he goes back to school, he can fix it. I’m satisfied.”

  Niles looks at me while massaging Mom’s neck with a slow movement of his fingers. “He doesn’t mean any of it, dear. He wants to be on the other side of the country so you won’t see what he’s doing. And another state school? Please.” He narrows his gaze on my face, reading me perfectly. “That’s like pre-school for him.”

  Mom stares at me with a pouty expression. “We could give him a chance.”

  I want to interrupt to plead my own case but hold my tongue. Mom holds more sway with Niles than I will.

  “Trust me on this.” Niles' hand slides off her neck to squeeze her shoulder. “It’s time Zach grows up and learn some responsibility.”

  Mom purses her lips and sits back. I expected her to argue. Plead my case. She doesn’t. She just looks at me, her eyes full of sadness.

  Holy shit. This is really bad.

  “Here’s the plan,” Niles says. “You’re going to work.”

  Wait. What?

  “Work?” I look at my mom again like I expect her to translate for me. “Where?” He’s sending me back to New York after all.

  “Here on Grand Cayman.” Niles smiles. It always shocks me to realize I inherited my dimples from him. “I had lunch with Jonas Knightly a few days ago. He’s got a little project going and he thinks you’d be perfect for it.”

  “Who’s Jonas Knightly?”

  “CEO of JK Investments.” I hate his sly grin and self-satisfied tone. “A friend of mine from Harvard.”

  I smile back at him. “You told him I don’t have a degree, right? There’s nothing I can do for an investment firm without a degree. Unless it’s mailroom or receptionist.” And I doubt you’d let your son, even a son you hate, do any job you’ve deemed as menial.

  Niles shakes his head at the word mailroom. “Don’t be ridiculous. You start out at the bottom like that, and you’re doomed to stay down there.”

  I’ve heard his theory before. He’s not of the prevailing opinion that working your way up makes a great businessman. He thinks it taints a person so that they always view life from the perspective of the lower class.

  My father, the elitist.

  “Not to worry.” He gives me that sly grin again. “This is a position for which you’re especially well suited.”

  I don’t like the way he’s looking at me but the more I think about it, the more I’m warming to the idea. Niles and Mom will take Alicia back to New York in a few days and I’ll stay here and work for this Jonas guy. Living on Grand Cayman and working for an investment firm is hardly a death sentence. “Great.” I sit back. “When do I start?”

  He lets his hand drop away from Mom’s neck. “Today.”

  “What?”

  He keeps grinning with that tiger-eating-a-gazelle expression. “Better take a shower.”

  Chapter 10

  Zach

  The shower sprays hot water on my neck and shoulders and I close my eyes, enjoying the temporary relief. Niles expects me downstairs in twenty minutes. I’ll pop some Ibuprofen and down it with a swig of vodka I kept in my room. Hopefully that’ll chase away the lingering hangover.

  I find black dress pants and a crisp long-sleeve button-up I’ve never seen before, hanging in my closet. Clothes have a way of showing up in my room. Mom loves to shop. She has good taste, and likes to feel needed, so I don’t complain. The clothes fit and the soft leather shoes don’t rub, even with no socks.

  I must pass muster because after a short inspection, Niles opens the condo door and ushered me out. His black Spider sits out front and a valet hands Niles the keys. Few experiences in the world compare to riding shotgun with Niles zipping around Cayman in his sports car. He might or might not remember to drive on the correct side of the road. With traffic rushing and honking, the s
un blaring, and Niles shifting gears on a whim, getting to your destination is more dangerous than playing Russian roulette with a full cylinder.

  We wind through streets lined with duty-free shops and bars stretching the few blocks from the waterfront. Not quite noon and they’re teeming with pale tourists. It must be cruise ship day, whatever day that was. Tuesday? Thursday? I try to figure it out but give up. I know we’ve been in Cayman for a week or two but that’s as close as I come to specifics. We narrowly miss smashing into an island woman with a red and green turban wound around her head. Six-feet of what looks like swirling skirts on bone, she moves in slow motion compared to Niles’s double fast-forward. When she steps off the curb in front of him, he swerves to the right, cutting into the outside lane. The car in that lane lets off an adrenaline rush of honking. Niles jerks the Spider back into his lane. His jaw never even twitched. He acts like we’re sipping cocktails on the veranda and not like my sad twenty-three years just flashed before my eyes.

  We travel north from the congestion along a wide road and in minutes sail into a completely different world. This side of the island is marked with sweeping canals that house massive yachts and sailboats moored outside mansions. This is where Money lived. Even Niles couldn’t afford this kind of luxury. The world’s bankers enjoyed their bit of this island. The business district is all manicured flowers and palms, steel and glass high rises with corporate names sparkling in the tropical sun.

  Niles whips off the main street and into a circular drive in front of an immaculate walkway leading to a gaping marble and glass entryway. He reaches over my chest and opens my door. “Here you go.”

  “Just like that?” I stare at the stone and glass monstrosity. “Where do I go?”

  “Jonas Knightly. Twenty-sixth floor, twenty-seventh? I don’t know.” He lowers his bushy eyebrows in irritation. “Check in at the lobby desk and they’ll tell you.”

  Thanks for nothing, asshole.

  I climb out of the car and Niles slams it shut behind me and roars off, scattering pedestrians in his wake.