Hey guys if you are liking this story please go Check out "After I Fall" on Radish via @radish_fiction https://radishfiction.com/stories/8552
there are two more chapters there that are exclusive to radish right now. I would appreciate any support!
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Cole
Detective Garrison paid me a visit a week ago but it feels like years have passed since we had our little chat. I haven't processed the information correctly. There was too much going on at work. At night, alone in bed, thoughts of the news kept me awake. I worked in my study to rid myself of them, plunging into a pile of paperwork that would keep me up until I physically couldn't stay awake anymore.
Nothing makes sense. I can't come to terms with what I've agreed to. The entire process of signing custody paperwork feels like a blur. Once Detective Garrison told me I'd need to make the trip down as soon as possible I didn't hesitate. I started the process of petitioning for custody before I had even met the kids, before I had been able to sit back and question the disadvantages of having two kids living in my brand new penthouse with me.
My lawyer handled most of the hard stuff. Instead of going through months of family court hearings and CPS visits, my money and well known family name bought my custody rights, with barely a question asked. I didn't even need to make a courtroom appearance.
Whether or not I'm the best person for the job doesn't seem to matter to the state of Indiana. My family is a staple in the Manhattan socialite community. We attend the majority of elite social functions in the city every year. We have a place in Southampton, a family estate in Westbury. We hold a membership at the Sebonack, the most exclusive country club in New York.
My parents fund charities, hold fundraisers and donate to the less fortunate whenever possible. My mother is involved with several non profits that help the homeless and recovering drug addicts get on their feet. My father is one of the most powerful men in Manhattan and that power has been trickling down to me and my brother over the last ten years. I have "means". I can give the boys "advantages" they wouldn't have otherwise.
In the courts eyes, these kids have struck gold.
The thing is, I'm clueless when it comes to kids. My work life keeps me at the office late into the night and I travel a lot for business. What little free time I do have is spent at clubs and parties with Mitchell and our group of friends. I drink heavily and bring home women who aren't exactly maternal.
My mom has lectured me more than once about seeking out a capable nanny once I bring them home. She wants to help, organize, interview, and let me make the final call. I'm not so sure about having another live in staff member. My housekeeper is enough and I told her that. Her response was that I needed to get used to having a staff because one day when I had a family of my own I would have a whole household that needed to be staffed and managed.
Caroline married Henry Lornstein, the CFO of JP Morgan Chase. He's one of the few Wall Street executives with a soul and it's the reason he and I can get along. She has a staff of her own and three people who manage them. The difference is she has a career. She doesn't spend her day shopping and getting mani-pedis. She hates all those Westbury housewives, tells me she'll kill me if I ever fall for one of the 'prospects'.
I've been on dates with the type. I could never be with someone so superficial. Not for more than an evening anyway.
I'll never get used to this lifestyle. I love my new place but the cost of it made me cringe. I don't want an estate in Westbury or a summer house in Southampton, but my parents want those investments for me. My dad wants me to have a "strong investment portfolio" so I can pass the business down to my kids, retire early, and play golf until the day I die.
I hate golf, and the types of guys I get stuck playing golf with. The kind that have had trust funds since they were conceived. The ones that think they're above everyone else, including those that work for them. I can't relate to them but at times I'm forced to and pull it off well.
Faking it is the only way to get by. To succeed, you have to make people like you, despite how awful they are. Jack taught me that a long time ago.
I don't hate kids. I love my nieces, spoil them rotten as often as I can, not without a ton of complaining from my sister. I'm a fun Uncle. Once a month they come sleep over on Saturday night and we play Operation, have pizza, and watch movies. The difference is I don't have to keep them with me once the sun comes up. Caroline comes to pick them up on Sunday morning. If something happens, I can cancel the sleepover and reschedule it. I don't have to make sure they eat healthy or brush their teeth, that they do well in school or behave around other kids.
I'm completely unqualified, but foolishly, here I am. My heart got in the way again, as it tends to do when something triggers my past. It's why I slept in her hospital room. It's why I still think about her. Abbey reminds me of Whitney. I guess, for a moment or two, I thought I could save her from herself. Caroline said that I can't change people as much as I might want to sometimes.
She's too logical and I'm too deep into my feelings. It's my biggest flaw.
The driver found a Staples just outside of Auburn. All their fax machines were down except for one, and it was still having a lot of issues. I had to fax a hundred pages one by one, waiting a full sixty seconds between each page before I could send another. My hands began to shake by page fifty. I thought it was a case of dehydration due to the hangover.
Sitting on the floor of this bathroom stall is telling me it's neither of those things. I dropped the contract paperwork all over the floor once I locked myself in. There's no way it will be put back together in a timely manner. My father may not get what he needs today and I have no clue what that means for me.
My body begins to tremble. I try to take deep, even breaths as I hug my knees to my chest; at the beginning of a nervous breakdown. Conferencing with my father did me in. The chance of losing the Macquarie deal and the partnership in one shot has me in a state of panic. I've been working night and day for this opportunity. There's no one to talk me through this, nothing to hang on to. Mitchell is hundreds of miles away.
Pulling myself out of the gutter is the only way to move forward. That much is clear. My confidence and intelligence are my most valued qualities. There's no room for weakness.
"There's no room for weakness." I say it out loud.
I'm on my feet within seconds and let myself out of the stall. My hands land on the cool ceramic surrounding the tiny sink and I run the faucet, taking time to splash cold water on my face before staring at myself in the mirror. I look worse than this morning. The circles around my eyes have grown larger, darker, clear evidence of too much liquor and not enough sleep.
I have forty eight hours to get my act together.
I walk out of the bathroom after gathering my paperwork. The bile begins to rise in my throat again and I swallow it down before racing out of the store, practically jumping into the back of the limo when the driver opens the door for me.
I won't last here. Being home is stirring up too many bad memories.
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