thirty-three

“Damn it, Tucker. I finally get you back into the company and the first thing you do is give Jack an excuse to fire you,” Nate said, spearing a breakfast sausage as if it were trying to escape.

We were sitting in the lobby restaurant of the Boylston Suites Hotel. The atrium reflected the sounds of kids zooming around the place, hopped up on a combination of maple syrup and breakfast cereal. Parents sat wearily at their tables, wearing brand-new Boston T-shirts and telling their kids to stop throwing Cheerios at the koi. I was wearing one of my business shirts and a tie that Jael had brought me. The tie hid my garrote mark. Somewhere in the hotel, she was watching over me as I drank coffee and ate a bagel.

I sipped my coffee and asked, “What did Jack say?”

“He said that you were harassing Roland and that Roland wanted you gone.”

“Roland can kiss my ass.”

“That’s not a helpful attitude.”

“Well, it’s the only one I’ve got.” I took a bite of my bagel. It was a generic white-bread toroid covered in an inch of Philadelphia cream cheese. I scraped extra cream cheese off the bagel, made a model of the Matterhorn on my plate.

Nate said, “You’re going to get yourself fired again. Roland has a lot of political juice.”

I poked at my cream cheese sculpture, focusing my attention away from Nate. I asked, “Whose side are you on?”

“What? What do you mean ‘whose side’?”

“I mean that there are sides in this thing. Not bullshit political sides. Not stupid power game sides. Real good and evil sides. People are getting murdered, and you’re worried about Roland’s political juice.”

“Let’s not be melodramatic,” said Nate.

I pointed to my forehead and said, “You never even asked me about my stitches.”

“I figured there was some embarrassing story behind them.”

“The embarrassing story is that some guy pushed me down a glass staircase and told me to mind my own business.”

Nate put down his fork and peered at my stitches. He said, “You’re kidding.”

“Yeah. I’m kidding, Nate. I’m also kidding about Carol, Alice, and Kevin being murdered. Do you still believe that Carol was killed in a random home invasion?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.”

“Well, she wasn’t. I’m sure of it. She was murdered and all you’re worried about is Roland’s political juice.”

“I don’t know if she was murdered randomly or not, but getting yourself fired isn’t going to help anything.”

“So don’t fire me.”

“I need you to keep a lower profile.”

“And I need you to grow a spine.” I hadn’t realized that I was still so angry at Nate.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’m tired of you rolling over and firing me every time there’s a little pressure. Carol and Jack wanted me gone, and I was gone. Now Roland wants me gone, and you’re making noises like I’ll be gone. I’m risking my frigging life here and you don’t have the balls to tell Roland, who works for you by the way, to shove his political juice up his ass.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, Nate, it is exactly that simple. It’s time for you to put up or shut up. If you’re going to fire me, fire me now. If you’re not going to fire me, then stand up for me.”

I leaned back in my chair, drank some coffee, and took a nibble of bagel.

Nate sipped his coffee and looked up into the atrium balconies. He said, “You know, Jack can fire you without asking me.”

I said, “That’s true.”

“This is what I mean about it not being as simple as me standing up for you. I can’t protect you from the CEO, and Roland is Jack’s golden boy. It doesn’t matter if Roland works for me, and he knows it.”

I sighed and pursed my lips. I hate office politics, perhaps because I suck at it.

Nate continued. “So, if we’re going to save you, we need to force Jack to ignore Roland.”

I said, “I’m fired, aren’t I?”

Nate said, “No. Of course not. We just need a new strategy to keep you employed. It’s good that you wore a tie today. It’s the perfect outfit for where we’re going.”

“Were are we going?”

“You’re going to attend your first board meeting.”