"Gene, you are the stupidest fucking idiot who hasn't Darwined himself out of the gene pool yet."
"OK, that really doesn't help me." I shook my head. I moved my phone off the white prints and changed the page. Jesus, it was like they didn't even teach the
basics
of construction to architects. "I mean, the three of th-"
"Three! Three! Fucking three nineteen-year-old college girls want to share your dick. Share! Women!" he shouted. "Women take to sharing like octopi take to space travel."
"Octopuses. I'm afraid it's all going to blow up in my face," I whined. I wanted to punch myself for sounding that weak. "Look, these are great girls. They're going to get hurt if this goes to shit."
"
When
this goes to shit. When, buddy. You're a schlubby underachiever, take the fucking W until it all burns down," he said. "What do they look like? Oh fuck. You're bitching 'cause you want a
hotter
barely-legal harem, aren't you. They're not even fives, are they?"
"No!" I swallowed my anger and clenched my teeth. I needed a moment to pick my words. Brothers do not give you a moment.
"You're not entitled to fuck fucking movie stars, Gene," he scoffed. "You like these girls and you're not first prize yourself. How about you just make use of their youth and vitality and call it a win?"
"Fuck you." I picked up my new phone. Found a picture of Sam. She was naked. I found a picture of Max. Much better, she was smiling and
Wow
... My heart fluttered. I wasn't angry anymore.
"No, buddy. Not me. Not your brother. Fuck the co-eds. Fuck the women," he said as if he was trying some kind of hypnotic induction on me.
"Look at this." I sent Max's picture. He shut up for a moment.
"Yeah, you're not going to get that." He laughed at me. "Who's she? One of the chicks on your comic book shows? She'd make a hell of an MJ, Tiger."
"Don't you call me Tiger. That's Maxine," I said. "The engineering student."
"Shit she's hot!" he said. "And it's a package deal? To get her you gotta jump on her giant mammoth hambeast best friend grenades? Worth it. Even knowing Sam and Alex are dudes who're transitioning into guys."
"No," I laughed. "And they're
all
gorgeous. Alex is this platinum blonde with Disney princess eyes, and Sam's a brunette with an ass built like the space-"
I was startled by a knock on the conference room door. It was one of the security guys. "Gene? Do you know a Peter Stint?"
"I don't think so," I said.
"Hey, remember when you got that job interview at Stint Engineering, borrowed mom's car to drive all the way out to Truro, and still fucked it up?" my brother added helpfully.
"Yeah, and you bitched about it for three weeks. And-oh shit, I think I know his daughter."
"Is that the redhead?" I could hear my brother's grin. It sounded excited for my inevitable demise. "What kinda armor are you wearing?"
"Well, I suspect the boss'll be happier our biggest competitor is interested in vengeance instead of poaching his professionals," the guard laughed. "Stint's asked to meet with you. So, of course, the boss managed to sideline him into-"
"Hello again, Gene." Peter's voice was cold and clear. He stood next to my boss. Well dressed, in a suit that cost more than I spent on rent last year. He did not look grossly impatient. He did not look angry. He had looked angry, or at least distrustful, that night at the over-priced restaurant. Now he looked judgmental. "May I borrow you?"
"Of course." I lifted my phone. "Brother, I'll call you back."
"Sure, but your savings better cover the casket or you're getting the Folger's can." I hung up on him and frowned. That's why you don't give brothers a moment.
"Sorry," I said. "Do you want to sit down?"
"Mr Stint," my boss said, looking at the prints I had on the table. "Perhaps you could use my office and-"
"No bother." Peter shook his head. "There's a coffee shop across the street. Gene's not immediately needed for anything, is he?"
"No, no! Of course not!" My boss faltered. "Gene, if you'll follow Mr Stint."
"Yeah, sure." I forced a smile. I stuffed my phone in my pocket. "My coat's in my cubicle, I'll meet you by the front desk?"
He agreed. I booked it to the cubicle farm and grabbed my winter gear. I rushed down the two flights of stairs to the front. He led me across the street.
"Hey!" I was greeted by Carmine. She didn't look like Faye or Gretchen, I realized. God, I was such an idiot. It was probably a brain tumor. Karma owed me a brain tumor. "You're feeling better?"
"Less crazy." I smiled.
"But not all the way sane, I hope." She customer-service beamed her pearly whites and told us to have a seat anywhere. We headed for a table with chairs that were not big comfy seats. Peter sat down and I across from him. Carmine was over in a second and Peter ordered two medium black drip coffees. Apparently, that's what men like him drank, and if Alex liked me, I'd better be a man like him. I normally took two sugars and two creams. Coffee was just a means to the drug. Or was this a power play? Was he expecting me to stand up for myself and-Carmine was long gone to fill out the order.
"The ride in OK?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could. I bristled with chalance. "The roads don't look too good after our white hurricane the night before last."
"The highways are fine. The city roads are consistently a mess." He nodded. "You're not particularly appreciated at work."
"I hadn't been. But today, you made a big enough stir that I'm going to walk back into a raise," I smirked. He nodded.
"Though, I do believe your boss heard the comment about you knowing my daughter," he said sharply.
"My boss is a sycophant to
his
bosses," I said. "If I have any pull, he'd rather show me off as a win than-"
"Work for me," Peter interrupted. "I'll put you through those years of engineering school you abandoned."
I shook my head. "I was going through school on my mom and dad's dime last time. I learned one thing: I either take on the burden and risk myself, or I don't get it done at all."
"There'll be risk. If I invested in you, I'd be doing it to get my return," he said. "You're not going to stay stuck with that dead-end job. What is it you are going to do?"
This was a whole different conversation. He expected something out of me. "When," my brother had said. I wanted at least an "If" with Alex. No, what I
wanted
was three guarantees; I
aspired
for just one "If".
"If I am going to make myself a success," I started rolling it over, "it's not enough to just fill in some random gap I have left in my education. I need to be doing something I want to excel at."