Siren's Cove

by Cassie Sandwich

Performance Review

~ 2018 ~

I stare up at the stars, laying down on the beach near the dregs of the bonfire. Most everyone followed Veronica’s tune and left for their boats. No real corporate adult wants to give up that comfort, I assume. I didn’t really expect any of them to actually camp out anyways. I honestly didn’t expect any of them to even come. 

The air is beautiful though. The winds have picked up, the heat has died down. It’s comfortable and cool out here. I haven’t bothered to pitch a tent or anything, but I don’t think I’m going to head off to the boats either. It’s not like I was going to be sleeping much tonight anyways. Too much to think about to bother. 

“A lot on your mind, Morty?” I tilt my head upwards and see my brother still up, sitting on one of the logs set out around the fire. Huh, I really would have expected him to chase one of the skirts back to their room. Or to right here on the beach dunes, out in the open, make me go somewhere else for my peace. A quick look around, though, and it seems like we’re alone on the beach. He’s fiddling with his large ring, his version of the family crest. He must be thinking about the same things that I am. I instinctively reach for the medallion on my necklace, and rub it softly too.

I huff, spreading my arms out to either side of myself. “I can’t believe he’s gone. I figured that the old man was a lich, he would outlive the rest of us. He’d be running the company into the heat death of the universe.” 

He laughs at that. Kicks a little sand over towards me. “I didn’t realize you cared about him so much. That sad sack. Always thought he was better than us, knew better than us.” 

“I didn’t. I mean, I did. He was a bastard and he was cruel, but he was still our father. And it’s not like either of us ever were left wanting growing up, after all.” 

He looks pensive, still twisting his ring on his finger, running his thumb over the grooves of the crest. “That’s not what’s on your mind though. This has been going on for a long time. You don’t smile anymore. I don’t think I’ve heard you laugh, truly laugh, in years.”

I sigh, annoyed. Yeah, years. Exactly when the designs on my future changed. When I was expected to become dad, become a replacement Edgar for him when he got tired of the real thing. “Why me? Why am I expected to fill that man’s shoes? I don’t really know the first thing about this business, any business. I wasn’t the one groomed to take over.”

“Who else would it be then, Mort?” 

I sit up, twisting around to look at my brother. “You, Edgar. You’re the obvious choice. You cared about running the thing, you always wanted that seat. You know how it works. Dad always knew it was going to be you. He trained you your whole life for it.”

For a moment, he seems shocked, a small smile on his face. But then it falters, slowly. He grimaces, looks away. “Yeah, and then I blew it. Dad decided I wasn’t good enough for my spot. And suddenly it wasn’t mine anymore.” He turns to me. “It’s yours. Be happy with that.” 

I get up, stretch. It feels like I’ve been laying down there for days, my arms are entirely sore. I crack my back, walk over, and sit down next to him. “To be fair, you did make a few actual mistakes. Some pretty big ones.”

He turns to me, arms crossed against his chest. “Like what?”

I murmur, not sure if I want to get into it. I’m trying to convince him to take the job. Still… “You do have the, uh, sexual looseness. That could cause a pretty big scandal if it got out… You’d probably have to fix that first.”

He shrugs. “So what. Everyone buys whores,  I’m not a celebrity, I’m a businessman. And a playboy! There’s worse things to be addicted to then sex, and worse ways to get it than paying for it. You don’t think that every wall street type isn’t out there doing the same thing?” 

I tisk softly. “You stole from the company. That’s an actual crime.”

He huffs again, closed off. “You can’t blame me for that. I… needed some discrete money. Dad always monitored everything that came out of our funds, our trusts, hell our paychecks.” 

I press my hand onto his shoulder lightly. “On one hand, you’re lucky no one caught it but Dad. But on the other…” I breathe a little, softly. “It’s not that bad, though. You learned from it. And, you know how many other rich kids are out there stealing from their parents wallets? Blue balling you out of nowhere was the bigger scandal than the theft ever was. I mean…” He looks at me questioningly. “Come on, Edgar. We both know the real reason he decided you weren’t good enough to take over his company.” 

He goes pale at that, looking away from me. “I didn’t… Realize you knew about that.” 

“Dad would talk. When he got drunk, he liked to complain about everyone to me. I had to hear about all the ways everyone has let him down.” Myself included. Never a good day when you got torn apart for being a bad replacement son from your actual father.

He turned away from me a little more, leaning in on himself, going red. I reach back over, comfort him, rub his arm. “Hey. He was wrong. You’re not a lesser man for the… kind of woman you were into. And it was clear his problem wasn't the women you would pay, it was when you looked like you were going to settle down with one.” 

He digs his hands into his head, scratching at his scalp under his short wavy hair. “Well, he got what he wanted. Made it clear that my spot in the lineage was severed, my name was good as dirt in the family. That if we were seen by him once then I was dead to him and cut off from everything. She didn’t stick around too much longer when she knew she was never going to get to be with me in public. Got everything she needed from me anyways. Dad was right, that’s all she ever wanted in the first place.” 

I pat him on the shoulder softly. “Dad was wrong, and he was an asshole. I don’t care who you were into, and I don’t care that you wanted some money that Father couldn’t see you use. Especially because you used that money for her. If anything, you’re a regular John Wojtowicz.” He looks at me a little confused, but I just shrug it off. “You know, that inspired me. It’s why I decided that a shelter for those women was going to be what my charity was. Before Dad sprung the heir apparent nonsense on me. That’s something I actually care about. Not this.” 

The dumb look on his face hasn’t changed at that. If anything, he looks even more baffled. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say, bro.” He knows. He just doesn’t want to accept it. For all that lunkhead charm he looks like a kicked puppy.

“What I’m trying to say is that… What I mean is–” 

“Wait.” He stands up, nervous, looking around. “We should do this somewhere more private. Anyone could still be around, or come back here. I don’t want our laundry getting out.” 

More private? I look around and there’s no one for miles. It’s past late night, almost early morning. Still… I understand being vulnerable. I know exactly what’ll put him at ease. “Cliffs?”

He nods in approval, pulling me up from my seat. “Cliffs.”