Page 23 of Purchase Power
Still, though, Mr. Ronald Gray was an interesting fellow to behold. His stance wasn’t as much confident as it was cocky, his hand on one hip and his other arm slung around his stepson’s shoulders. That half-smile was overshadowed by the glint in two blurry eyes. Ronald’s tall and lean frame probably came with it that lanky gait that was wholly unlike Noah’s steady movements.
They couldn’t be more like night and day. Even at such a young age, Noah kept his lips straight and his hands to his side. The article would go on to say that his coaches were always impressed with his early maturity “so unlike his peers, whom we remember fondly from our own boyhoods” and focus on his work. A pull quote from Ronald Gray said,“I treat this boy as my son. I didn’t marry his mother and gain a wife. I gained a son as well, and I couldn’t be prouder of him today.”
Lucy magnified the image as much as she could. The larger those faces became, the more she saw full life in Ronald’s countenance and a stern consternation in Noah’s, not unlike how he was today.I act like I know so much about him.Lucy had to keep reminding herself that she knew nothing. She didn’t know what he even did to earn his money now, assuming he wasn’t living off nothing but trust funds.
Where was Ronald Gray now, anyway? Where was Noah’s mother? Was Lucy locked in this suite because Noah was keeping her a secret from the parents he still lived with because this was his birthright?
She opened a new tab.Ronald Gray.
There were more Ronald Grays than Noah Gabriels, so Lucy refined the search to include Noah’s name, horses, and the state they lived in. She came up against a familiar wall against any and all information about someone who was seemingly famous enough to have puff pieces written about him in regional horse-riding newspapers.
Boy, they really hadn’t been kidding when they told Lucy that she wouldn’t find anything using her Black Belt Google Fu.
This did give her an idea, though.
She opened her email client and shoved in the name of the acquisitions editor she wished to impress with her project.This is so advanced. I’m not supposed to be thinking about this until I have my article half-written.Yet what better time than the present to put out the feelers and see what the so-called brilliant minds of journalism thought about what direction she should head.
“Hello! My name is Lucy Craig, author of such pieces as…”
She pitched her project, saying that all information presented in this confidential email was for the editor’s eye sonly. Because the only thing Lucy cared about was typing out the name Noah Gabriel and discovering what kind of response that received.
She only briefly mentioned the nature of their relationship and why she had entered it in the first place.“I realize that I will have to protect his name in the final piece, but the premise itself should be newsworthy for your personal experience editorials. Please let me know what you think, if it might be a good fit for your publication, and any guidance as to what direction I should take with my narrative. I’m all ears!”
Lucy said that, but in the end, she would do whatever sounded best and made her résumé look like the golden ticket to the rest of her life. Noah’s money was already changing her life by freeing her from debt and setting herself up for a nice, comfortable life. Yet none of that mattered if she didn’t have anything to fill her time and give herself a reason to get up in the morning. Devoting herself to her passion of writing was that opportunity. All she needed now was someone to take a chance on her.
And maybe feed her the information missing from the internet…
***
“You need to listen to me next time.” Noah got Stacey’s attention with a snap of his fingers. She rocked in her chair on the balcony of Noah’s master suite, her thumbnail in her mouth and her hair blowing this way and that in the breeze. Their lunch of minestrone soup and bread was forgotten. Ever since they came back from the stables they shared with their neighbors, the people who basically bred horses for a living, Noah had been trying to drill into Stacey’s head the importance of staying calm on her horse. “You could have been seriously hurt today. You’ve fallen off your horse before and nearly killed yourself. You…” He stopped. Yelling at Stacey never helped. She was as sensitive as she was naïve, her whole world wrapped up in Gabriel Manor and the man who had sworn to look after her since she was old enough to cry for help. Like she had that day. “Never mind. I think you’ve got it. Let’s eat.”
Neither of them touched their food. A few seconds later, Stacey pulled her legs up onto her chair, wrapped her arms around them, buried her face in her lap – and cried.
Noah did not react. Whenever Stacey shut herself off from her environment to cry, it was better to let her do her thing. He had learned the hard way over the past twenty years that Stacey was not fantastic at verbally expressing herself. She was, however, decent at reaching for Noah and crying into his chest when it made her feel better.
Horse riding was the one thing besides chess that they enjoyed together. It didn’t require talking. Nor did Stacey have to touch anybody, a boon since the wrong, startling move could send her into a fit.I love her. I really do. But she can be… difficult.Noah knew her better than anyone else. Better than the doctors and therapists who took time out of their busy schedules to come by Gabriel Manor every week to speak with her. That didn’t mean he had the magic formula for making her calm and happy, however. Yet whenever she asked him to go horseback riding with him, he tried to make the time. There was no one else on the planet that could make him forget his own hang-ups associated with one of his favorite pastimes as a child.
“Stacey,” he gently said, stirring his spoon in his soup. “When we’re done with lunch, how about you come hang out in my office? I’ve got work to do on the computer, but you could bring in your art supplies.”
“No, thanks.” Stacey lifted her head, dirty blond hair sticking to her face. “Not hungry.”
“You need to eat.”
“I said I’m not hungry.”
“All right.” Noah went ahead and ate his lunch. He might as well.
Anything that went wrong with Stacey had the power to throw him off for the rest of his day. He had trouble concentrating on his work, some of it important enough to warrant a call from the current CEO of his family’s company. Clark Robinson had been CEO since Noah’s father retired a decade ago. He was the man who decided to take a chance on Noah, who had a remarkable head for figures and could take one look at a budget before blowing it out of the proverbial water.To build it up again, of course.Noah had been made Chief Financial Officer within three years of working full-time, and had no plans to go for CEO anytime soon, although Clark’s retirement was fast approaching as well.
“I really need that report about the development in Old Town soon,” Clark said with a fatherly sigh over the phone. “Investors are pressuring us to prove that all of the money won’t go straight to legal fees as we inevitably fight the NIMBYs over our damn right to develop that land as we please. Can you have it to me by tomorrow morning? At latest, Noah.”
“Yes, Mr. Robinson,” Noah said with due attribution. “I’m truly sorry it isn’t finished yet. I had intended to get it to you by three today.”
There was a pause. The kind that troubled Noah, until the CEO inevitably said, “Everything all right at home?”
Noah winced. “Stacey had a small accident this morning. We went horseback riding, she fell…”
“Oh, dear. Is she all right?”
