The man sitting before me is a living snapshot of my teen years. He entered around the time that my hormones ran wild, and left as reality hammered down delusions of grandeur. I dabbled in personality, in having a friend that didn't merely serve as a tool for social stability.
His fluffy white hair and big brown eyes remind me of a stuffed animal, something I'd never owned but always wanted. His rebellious nature was my dream of luxury, as no matter how much he riled up his father, the two would smile and embrace by the end of the day. When his father died I could feel my soul weighing heavy with a fierce guilt. I was guilty of wishing I was the one in his shoes instead.
"You're familiar with Ledger White?" I ask him with a wavering caution.
"I work for him nowadays."
"I suppose that makes sense," I nod. "Your father's connections were quite valuable."
He looks at me with mild offense, and I quickly go on to add: "I've never worked with you, but I trust you'd work hard and with ingenuity, just like your old man." This seems to satisfy him.
"I'm alright, I think," he laughs with false modesty. "Ledger thinks so, anyways. I work pretty close with him."
I raise a brow. This isn't the type of person I can ask to cut to the chase without damaging their sense of self worth. All I can do is wait for him to tell me what he wants to say as he decides to say it. It's unfortunate I can't speed the process along with a drink.
"If you're worried that our companies are going to merge and you'll lose your job, you don't need to fret about that," I smile and check my phone. It's pathetic, but I do want him to text me.
"Well, a little. But beyond that, I just want you to know what you're getting into, I guess," he laughs nervously. His cheeks are tinged red ever-so-slightly. "I know I'm overstepping, but I feel like I'm throwing a childhood friend to the wolves here if I don't speak up."
I'm not sure we could really call ourselves childhood friends, but I bite my tongue. This conversation was likely the longest we'd ever had, as most of our time together was me staring at him through the video recording function on a flip phone.
"I mean… do you know already? About Ledger's… proclivities…?" His voice falls to a mousey quiver.
"His inability to stay monogamous?" I phrase it more nicely than Ledger deserves. "I'm aware."
"Uh–. Well, like, the full extent…?" When I tilt my head he takes it as the greenlight to continue. "He loves… stuff. Having stuff," he laughs awkwardly. "Nice things. He collects things. People, even."
"What do you mean he collects people?" He has my full attention now. What the hell could that even mean? 'Collect people'? Like zoo animals?
Before I can get an answer to my question, the topic of discussion bursts through my office doors. Rather than surprise, for some reason I'm more concerned with the automatic door lock system that'll inevitably need repair as a result. Alexio springs to his feet, his big brown eyes wide with terror.
"I thought I saw my favorite employee sneaking over here," Ledger laughs, putting a hand on his hip confidently. "Alexio! You know my bride-to-be?" He strides over to my desk, sitting without regard and pulling his calf up to rest on his other knee. Before I can offer him anything, he takes the unused glass and holds it out, waiting for me to fill it.
I raise a brow and pour him a shot of whiskey, thoroughly confused by everything going on. Just as the golden brown liquid stops dripping from the bottle, Ledger has already downed the first shot and he's prompting me for more. All I can do is oblige, I suppose.
"Wait, don't tell me you two went on playdates together? I totally forgot, haha. Your dads used to be really close, right? Business partners?" Ledger's cackling, his body movements entirely exaggerated. Part of me wonders if he's already been drinking.
"It doesn't sound like you forgot at all," I counter as I finish pouring his second shot.
"So that's what this is, then! A playdate, laced with a little corporate espionage!" He's smiling, but clearly isn't happy.
Perhaps I'm more stoic than I give myself credit for, as Alexio is visibly trembling. The poor man's hands grip either of his own arms, wrinkling the light blue dress shirt that all WHITEOUT employees sport. I wonder if someone tipped White off, or if he's really paying that much attention to what goes on around here.
"You'd be a hypocrite if you're jealous about me talking to other men," I tease.
He shoots me a steady glare that indicates this is not the time for banter. Something seriously has him riled up this time. Perhaps it's a combination of our earlier argument and the genuine concern his employee is betraying him? Something inside me stirs, an uncomfortable twisting in my stomach.
"... Anyways, Alexio and I were just catching up. He came to congratulate me on my engagement." It feels even worse to lie, but I have the horrible feeling I need to defuse the situation.
"Hmm. Yeah, no. He'd fuckin' never," Ledger calls me out immediately.
It would seem I've tripped all the alarm bells now.
Uh-oh.