Page 80 of Lust
I had advised Jen to map out the specifics of the tour. Mrs. Alberta had a broken arm, leg, and a face almost unrecognizable from bruises. The sight had been so daunting that it evoked my sympathy, and I was a hell of a lot more coldhearted than these bastards. I hated using that woman as emotional bait, but it demonstrated the need for this place.
“Yes, I did,” he replied, rubbing his chin. “And while I sympathize for her cause, it simply isn’t reason enough to keep open a place that’s depleting our funds by the day.”
Lies. This place wasn’t worth a fraction of CARP’s profits. Steve had done the research. CARP could easily keep this place open for another year, which was the reason why I had suggested the timeframe to Sara.
The hard truth? Both men were promised significant bonuses if they wrapped this up within months instead. I thought they’d change their tune after interacting with the families seeking refuge and the children with limited options. Who relished in turning children onto the streets?
Damn. These fuckers were colder than me.
I shuddered.
Were they merely poor replicas of me? Unless Sara forced me to do the right thing, I was also only concerned with the bottom line, finding a solution, or attaining what I desired by any means necessary. I had never concerned myself with the journey itself or the methods to reach the end.
Like a revelation coming to life, I realized that my life required changes. I suddenly wanted to be a better man than Taylor Sorenson or Christopher Jones. Someone worthy of Sara.
She was better than this lot, and she deserved more from them. God, she deserved more fromme.
It was insane. She was younger than me by a lot. We were almost eleven years apart, yet… I aspired to be her.
I couldn’t stop watching as she argued with Jones over his utter disregard for human life. And when he asked her for a cup of coffee from the espresso machine in the conference room, an irritated Sara made him a cup, then ‘accidentally’ spilled it on his lap.
She was magnificent.
All the while Sara spoke to them, I tried to catch her eyes for small reassurances. To let her know that I was somehow different from this lot, though it had become abundantly clear I was the same.
“Can we count on your support, Mr. Marcolf?”
Five expectant faces looked my way. I had long tuned them out, busy staring at Sara. Could the other four pairs of eyes tell that I had no interest in them because the shade of their eyes wasn’t gray?
“Sorry, I missed that last part.” Count on my support? That’s generally my line.
“We asked if we could count on your support?” Sorenson repeated. “As much as we’d like to help, the longest we can afford to keep this place open is three months. Can we count on your support to have your sister smooth things over with the press?”
I glanced at Sara. Was this where the negotiations had stalled? Three measly months? Three fucking months? Going through the DC legalities would get her more time.
I almost threatened them with the information Steve had gathered. Jones kept a mistress on the side, and Sorenson was developing a cocaine habit. Usually, I didn’t care if someone was a garbage person, so long as their checks cleared. But suddenly, I felt embarrassed for Lilith, Sorenson, Jonas, and by extension, for myself because we were all cut from the same cloth.
What kind of a person did that make me?
Not someone deserving of Sara.
These were the kinds of people I associated myself with in my pursuit of more sponsorship checks, more power, and more shallow nothingness. However, as I glanced at Lilith with her expectant eyes, hoping I’d take the deal so she could return to CARP and boast of her achievements, I felt queasy. Lilith was the picture of beauty, and yet, her beautiful face made me physically ill. Why had I considered her an ally? I didn’t like her, or Jones, or Sorenson. They were greedy money-mongers, entitled, and self-absorbed.
It suddenly became crystal clear that not only did I dislike these people, but I also disliked my life while around them.
There was a road map, and I had followed it blindly. I chased after power and gorged on the superficial feel of it. It had sucked everything out of me until I was hollow and empty, and God, I didn’t want this life at all. I had never given myself the room to consider doing the right thing to get to the end. A journey that might make me proud. That might make Sara proud, too.
I stared down at the garbage people, and my first impulse was to threaten them with all the awful things Steve had discovered. But then, where did that leave me? I’d be a garbage person, too, because two wrongs didn’t make a right.
Instead, I said the only thing that I could. “No.” I was beyond feeling reproach and pity. Instead, I only wanted these people out of my life.
“Excuse me?” Jones squinted his eyes.
Lilith laughed nervously. “Oh, I think he misunderstood—”
“I said,” I gritted out, “No. I will not be smoothing anything over with the press. Instead, I’m going to help my sister file a lawsuit against you.” I crossed my arms across my chest and leaned against the wall. “I was a lawyer before I was ever a politician. I know of the DC tenant laws you’ve broken and will slap you with every one of those indictments. I’ll pile up so much paperwork for you that instead of one year, it’ll take you multiple years to claw your way out.”
The stunned expressions in the room finally ended with Jones’ words. He glanced at Lilith. “Is this a joke?” he exploded. “We pay for Marcolf’s campaign, so he can fuck us over when we need him to do his job?”
