Chapter Seventeen - A Twist Of Fate
Ruslan looked around, trying hard to look pious. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who was trying to do that. Francis Davenport might have had more enemies than friends attending his funeral, people who wanted to make sure, just like Johnny, that the defunct was dead without one shadow of a doubt, and would soon be six feet under.
As his eyes roamed over the attendees, something caught his attention. Nigel was close to the priest, his head down, his hands clasped in front of him, in a visible effort to hold it together. Ruslan felt a bit touched. No matter how big an asshole Nigel was, he had just lost his father, the only parent he had had left in the world, and that could not be easy.
For a few seconds, Ruslan looked at Nigel from his place. There was plenty of distance between them, so he could not see him clearly. Yet, the oddest thing, when Nigel lifted his head, Ruslan thought he saw something that startled him. A grin seemed to split Nigel's face in two. Impatiently, he pulled at Johnny's sleeve.
"What is it?" Johnny whispered.
"Just look at Nigel," Ruslan replied.
The priest managed to catch himself into his long robe and stumbled. Courteously, Nigel hurried to help him. Ruslan set his eyes on him, avid to see any traces of that nasty grin he had noticed. But right now, Nigel's head hung down again, and discreetly, he patted his eyes with a handkerchief.
"I suppose even an asshole like him could have tears for his father," Johnny commented.
"I wasn't talking about that. Just earlier, he seemed to be smiling."
"Are you sure, pretty? He looks kind of wrecked."
Now Ruslan wasn't so sure anymore. At this distance, his sight could play tricks on him. "Not sure. Not really. It just struck me as unusual. But I might have imagined everything. I don't like the guy, but I shouldn't be this petty. It's his father's funeral, after all."
Johnny's eyes seemed to follow Nigel for a while. Ruslan knew Johnny took his words at face value. Right now, though, he could not help but feel a little guilty. He started to say something, but an old lady in front of them turned in her seat and hushed him with a severe look and a hissing sound. The tall black feather adorning her hat was shaking with equal indignation. Ruslan murmured his apologies and looked down, chastised.
After the ceremony, Ruslan had to drag Johnny after him to address his condolences. They had to do the whole thing since they were present. They stopped in front of Nigel. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Nigel," Ruslan said in a voice he hoped didn't sound fake.
Nigel took his hand and stared him in the eyes. Right now, he looked like a kicked puppy. "I guess I'm an orphan now," he said with a long, heart wrenching sigh.
Ruslan patted his shoulder. "You must be strong, Nigel. Your father would be proud of you. It was a beautiful service."
Nigel nodded solemnly. He then offered his hand to Johnny. Ruslan watched his lover as he shook Nigel's hand shortly, without saying a word.
"We should see each other sometime. It won't be long until you take over your father's business, too," Nigel said. "I would like to continue the good business relationship our dads had."
"Of course," Ruslan said after a short moment of hesitation. "But it will be long until I take over the family business. Papa has plenty of active years in front of him."
"Eh, you never know," Nigel said with another long sigh. "I thought my father would live for many years and that I wouldn't take over the family business this soon. I suppose that I must rise to the occasion, now. That is why I want to keep the relationships my father worked so hard to build over the years."
"Of course," Ruslan said again, but now something in Nigel's body language was making him wary.
They were pushed from behind by other people who wanted to address their condolences, so they bid their goodbye in a hurry and moved along.
Ruslan could feel Johnny walking next to him, his body tense. He didn't have to look to know that his lover's face was all a frown.
"Johnny, do you think we could walk a little slower? Any faster, and I'll have to sprint to catch up with you."
"Sorry, pretty. Just lost in thought, is all," Johnny said.
"Can you tell me what you're thinking about? You look like you're ready to wreck someone with your fists."
"I believe what you thought you saw earlier is true. That asshole Nigel is pretty damned happy about his father kicking the bucket."
"Now it's my turn to ask, Johnny. Are you sure?"
Johnny nodded curtly and followed with a grunt.
"What of his behavior made you think that?" Ruslan asked.
"I watched him. As soon as someone approached him, he was all sad and weeping. But, in between, he looked at everyone like he had just won some fucking lottery. The fucker is happy about his father's death. And it doesn't look like Francis had managed to choose a replacement or teach Nigel how to stop being an asshole."
"That's bad," Ruslan said in a low voice. "I should warn papa. He'll know what to do about this."
"And, in the meantime, we don't go to meet this asshole at all, not even for a scoop of ice cream. I don't care if your papa thinks we should. That's not happening."
"Of course," Ruslan hurried to appease his lover. "I was just being polite when I talked to him."
They walked in silence to the car waiting for them. This time, it was a car put at their disposal by Douglas. The old man was traveling with Martin, like usual. They would talk about it all at home, as they were supposed to reunite back at his papa's. For him, that mansion, austere on the outside, but warm on the inside, would always be his home, even if he didn't live there anymore.
***
Douglas seemed lost in thought, as they walked inside and gathered all inside the old man's studio. Ruslan beckoned Johnny to sit by his side on the leather sofa, but his lover shook his head. He chose not to insist. Johnny was restless and he couldn't sit down. Ruslan wondered whether Johnny was reading too much into Nigel's behavior. Yet, at the same time, he could not wholeheartedly reject the idea that Nigel wasn't at all devastated by his father's death.
"Papa, we need to talk about Nigel," Ruslan was the first to speak.
Douglas just nodded. He picked a letter from his desk, stared at it like it was important and then threw it back into the pile. Ruslan found that odd. His papa was a stickler for orderliness.
"Yes, we must," the old man said. "The worse came to worst, eventually. Nigel is in charge of the family business, and that doesn't bode well with a lot of people. We should be prepared."
"Prepared? But for what? Sometimes, papa, I wish you haven't kept me so much in the dark about your business."
"I haven't, Russy. What you see is all there is with us. You're as involved with the casino business as you need to be. And, if I were to retire, you know everything to take it all from my hands."
"Retire? Seriously? But why? Papa, I don't want that much responsibility. And you're in top shape. What reason could you have to retire?"
"I am getting quite old, Russy. Don't you want to take the burden of responsibility, as you say, from my shoulders?"
"Just what I said," Ruslan replied with a huff. "Come on, papa. I'm not five. What's going on? It's not like you to think of retirement."
"You're getting married, Russy. Don't you want to be completely grownup? Running the business by yourself is in your power. And you'll have Johnny to help you."
"Well, if running the business means having to deal with that asshole Nigel on a regular basis, no, thanks. And how come he knew you would retire?"
"He knew? What do you mean?" Douglas seemed surprised. "No word of such a thing was spoken outside this house."
"At the funeral, he just ran his mouth about how we should continue our business relationship just like our dads. He was talking about that as if he knew. Not that he said it directly."
Douglas frowned and his hands reached for the pile of letters again. "Don't worry, Russy. If Nigel Davenport believes that he can play the big boys' game, he'll be in for a rude awakening."
"What do you mean?"
"It means that, for the time being, a lot of people will have their eyes on him. He can try to shake things up, but he'll not end up well if he steps the wrong people on their toes."
"And what are we supposed to do in the meantime?" Ruslan asked, throwing a sideway glance at Johnny, whose face seemed to be all granite, his lips set in a harsh thin line.
"You two? Plan your wedding, of course, and enjoy your youth. Time flies and you never know when your joints start to swell, your bones start to hurt, and you can't sleep more than six hours a night."
"Anything I can do for you?" Ruslan asked. "Don't say 'take over the business' because I won't. But, maybe, if you want a break."
"Actually," Douglas said and he finally seemed to find what he was looking for, "there is something you can do. Take over the business only for a couple of weeks. See how you feel walking in my shoes a little. Let's call it a test drive."
"Okay, I can do that," Ruslan said with a sigh. "But what will you do in the meantime, papa? You'll still guide me, right?"
"Over the phone, yes, and only if you really feel like you must ask for my advice. As for what I'll do, Martin and I will take a vacation." Douglas showed Ruslan a colorful flyer, which appeared to be the thing the old man had searched for through his correspondence.
Ruslan stood up and took it. "Wow, you really meant it about aching bones and all that. I won't say that you don't deserve it. Ever since I've known you, you've been nothing but work, work, work. What can I say? You two should have some fun. But only for two weeks. I'm seriously not taking over the business this soon. You're not intimidated by Nigel, are you, papa? I mean, he didn't say anything to scare you, right? I know that now he has money and goons probably -"
"Russy," Douglas looked at him visibly amused, "Nigel doesn't even play in the little league. He can't be someone I would be afraid of."
"But is there someone that you could be afraid of?" Ruslan asked, sensing that his old man was omitting something on purpose, yet again.
Douglas chuckled. "We all have someone like that. And it's a good thing. It keeps us modest. Ask Johnny. It's a simple truth that anyone who ever picked up a pair of gloves knows."
Johnny just nodded, without saying a thing. Ruslan noted briefly how his lover had kept silent throughout their visit.
He huffed. "I'm asking you a direct question, and you become a philosopher. But have it your way. I'm sure that if I insist, you'll have me running in circles, trying to chase my own tail."
Douglas's face lit up. "Russy, I would never do that. Don't worry about Nigel. He's nothing but flotsam. He might believe he's in charge of some juggernaut, but the truth is that he has an entire life ahead of him to build up his father's legacy from scratches."
"What do you mean, papa?"
"Francis didn't leave behind the prosperous business everyone thought. There are troubles with the books, a lot of losses that haven't yet been accounted for, and overall, Nigel's inheritance is one big mess."
"And does Nigel know that?"
"If he doesn't, he will soon enough. This is not exactly word on the street. But let's say that his father's associates who used to play golf with him know it very well. Nigel will have to work hard to salvage something. Along that train of thought, I can see clearly now why Francis had sent Nigel to woo you. Knowing how much I wanted you to settle down, he had hoped for a swift arrangement that would save his dying business. Again, it was something I should have been aware of."
