Definitely Against Policy, page 14
She and Eli weren’t breaking any rules, Mary thought indignantly. Falling in love on the job wasn’t a criminal offence.
****
No one had bothered to turn the calendar page in the reception room at Synergy Developments, so Eli did it. There. Over its numbered grid, the month of April featured a clump of daffodils by a brook and a ruined castle. First Wednesday of the month already. He hated waiting, but he had to nail down a plan for the installation of the model suite with the project manager and communication was more efficient in person.
A ceiling-mounted TV was set to an all-news channel, weather and traffic on a side panel, a ribbon of market updates along the bottom of the screen. In the middle, the mayor announced funding for a new community center…a rash of burglaries terrorized residents in the east end…an old man was accosted at the gates of the University of Toronto. What? Crap. It couldn’t be! The news advanced to the next item in the morning’s loop.
Gripped with dread, Eli sat in a vinyl armchair and found the news site on his phone. A grainy image captured from CCTV footage showed a young man bent over an older man who appeared to be defending himself with pudgy fists. The caption read, “U of T campus police have turned over security images to Toronto Police in the hope of identifying an elderly victim and his assailant. In a press release, spokesperson Sandra O’Hara stated investigators are concerned for the victim’s safety. Anyone who was near U of T’s western entrance at approximately 8:30 a.m. yesterday and may have witnessed the attack is asked to call Crimestoppers.”
Eli enlarged the photo. Silverstein’s porcine body lay supine on a bed of mulch, fat legs bent into inverted Vs, arms extended like cricket bats. The younger man’s hand, his own hand, was extended in aid but anyone examining the still image would mistake the gesture for a blow. On the other hand, both faces were obscured by position and motion. Silverstein and he would recognize themselves, but would anyone else? And why hadn’t the police released video footage? CCTV cameras were notoriously unreliable. Had there been a glitch?
He wouldn’t panic. Surely the story would blow over? Unlikely. Not when the police used words like “assailant, victim, safety, and attack.” The buzz on campus, on Briarmont Court—hell, in the whole city—would be deafening. You’d have to live under a landscaping rock in Bingley’s pissing grounds to miss this kind of news. He’d have to turn himself in. Mary would be livid.
His phone pinged. Mary? No. A nuisance text from Stephen under a link to the Victoria’s Secret catalogue. “Don’t forget, Klassen. My cut before you go shopping.” Stephen’s relentless pestering was a zit on a butt cheek compared to the volcano of pus infecting the day’s news and threatening to smother his life.
Eli deleted Stephen’s message as the project manager’s assistant summoned him for the meeting.
****
Eli looked like death warmed over when he returned to the sales office at eleven.
“How did it go?” asked Mary, forgetting she was still cross with him.
“Well.” Eli kissed her and slumped into the armchair. “The model suite will go in by mid-month. We’ll work off-site for a few days and have Jonquil and Siobhan stage it. There’s only space for the one bedroom plus den, but that’s fine. Sales are brisk without a model anyway.”
She wanted to tell him that Claudia begged to differ and to commiserate over their awful conversation, but Eli wasn’t well. Face drawn, skin sallow, tone weak, he looked as if he was on the verge of tears. She sat on the edge of the sofa so their knees were touching and peered into his eyes.
“You okay, Eli?”
“Yeah. Just a headache.”
“That’s not just a headache. You can barely hold yourself up.”
“I took some Advil. I’ll be fine, Mary.” His voice and hands trembled. When he saw she’d noticed, he tucked them under his thighs.
“You need a doctor. St. Joe’s is only a few blocks away.”
“No way. I’ll feel better after a nap. I think I’ll head home. You okay here? On your own?”
She took his hand. Clammy as a wrung-out rag. “I’m getting an Uber to take us to the hospital.”
“Don’t, Mary. I know you’re worried, but I’m okay. I’m going home.” Before she could object, he clambered to his feet and headed for the door. “Come by my place after work?”
He left without an answer, and without kissing her goodbye.
By Mary’s count, this was his third headache in a week, one blending into the next. Advil and coffee weren’t cutting it. There had to be something she could do for him. He’d mentioned his grandmother’s salve and tea. If Mary wrote to Mrs. Klassen and asked her to send some, she would. By the old woman’s letter, she loved Eli dearly and would help him. Mary remembered her distinctive name and address. A few mouse clicks and presto, she’d have her postal code too.
She took a leaf of letterhead from the drawer and dashed off a note.
Dear Mrs. Klassen,
My name is Mary and I work with your grandson, Eli. He doesn’t know that I’m writing to you.
I have a favor to ask. Eli gets terrible headaches and he mentioned that you make a salve and a tea that helps to relieve them. Could you mail some to him? I’m enclosing ten dollars to cover postage.
Apart from the headaches, Eli is well. He’s a hard worker. He must have learned to be industrious by growing up on a farm.
Thank you for your help.
Sincerely,
Mary Rose
****
What a coward. He went back to the office to confess and he couldn’t do it. Now he lay on crumpled sheets that smelled of Mary. Every breath through his stupid nostrils reinforced his terror that he would lose her if he couldn’t work a miracle.
He’d tricked her into believing that Silverstein approved her proposal of his own accord and then he’d bedded her under false pretense. If the deception weren’t bad enough, he’d threatened Silverstein and accidentally upended him in front of a goddam camera. Full story at eleven.
Eli cringed at his own smug attitude that very morning. Mary was capable of handling a bully in her ladylike way. She’d freaked out when he had to deal with Brian at Out-of-the-Box and he hadn’t even laid a finger on the guy. Wait till she found out he’d physically confronted Silverstein and didn’t have the courage to tell her. Or the police.
Damage control. That’s what he had to do.
Eli shifted the wet facecloth covering his eyes and forehead, reached for the phone, and checked the news. Every media outlet in town carried the story of the dangerous criminal, still at large, who’d beaten a poor, defenseless old man. By the reporter’s accounts, the police could have located the victim by following the trail of blood dribbling from his ravaged body as he crawled away, unaided and uncomforted in his anonymity. Eli searched for more images, but there was only that one.
He scrolled to the comments.
We should of never outlawed spanking…Cops too busy taking sensitivity training to catch criminals…Why didn’t anyone help that poor, elderly gentleman…Prayers…It’s called bystander syndrome…I don’t feel safe in this city…Wish I could see there faces so I could find the a**hole and teach him a lesson…Pathetic…
Pathetic. Both he and Silverstein did look pathetic. As Eli repeated the word over and over, a grain of sand grew into a pearl of inspiration deep in his subconscious and surfaced. Silverstein was a bully and this story was his kryptonite. No one would kowtow to a pathetic victim. If Silverstein’s identity was revealed, the cloak concealing his weakness would be yanked away and he could kiss his power good-bye.
Eli found Silverstein’s number in the U of T directory. Damage control demanded immediate action.
“Yes?” The professor’s voice was high-pitched for a man, yet gruff. Old-sounding compared to yesterday.
“Mr. Silverstein?”
“Doctor Silverstein. Please identify yourself.”
“It’s Eli Klassen, your unknown assailant.” Might as well give his name, establish the illusion of an equal footing.
Eli heard breathing, then a slow chortle. “Calling for a proverbial chess match.”
“Pawn to E4,” said Eli. “Listen, first off, I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“No, you aren’t. What did you say your name is?”
“Klassen. You’re right. I’m not. We don’t like each other, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have certain interests in common.”
“I can predict where you’re going, but please, continue.”
“You’ve seen the news with the CCTV image.”
“I have.”
“It’s grainy and our faces are blurry. No one can identify the men in the photo except us. And it strikes me, Silverstein, that neither of us comes off in a flattering light. I look like a bully and you look like a fucking pansy.”
“And if we don’t tell anyone, we can go off to our own corners, live our lives in peace, with no one the wiser,” finished Silverstein. “A mutually beneficial stalemate.”
“Yeah, that’s how I see it.”
“What about Ms. Rose?” asked Silverstein. “Won’t she recognize lover boy in the photo?”
“I have an alibi. That guy looks like me, but I was nowhere near U of T yesterday morning.”
“And what of me?”
“Are you the only portly prof on campus who dresses like an undertaker?”
“No. They abound,” Silverstein conceded. “Though you may find it expedient to spare me your observation of my weighty corporeal habitus during our negotiations.”
“Are we agreeing to silence?”
“Yes. Mum’s the word, Mr. Klassen. It would be remiss of me not to wish you a good day, but I’d rather tell you to fuck off.”
Eli laughed. “Good day, Mr. Silverstein.”
Call concluded to his satisfaction, Eli went to the kitchen to take a couple more Advil, though he felt better already. He had enough time to change the sheets and order food before Mary got off work.
That evening, maybe they’d laugh at the bizarre resemblance between the men in the viral news photo and him and Gabriel.
Chapter Fourteen
Fridays, the most optimistic day of the week, brought more people to the sales office than other weekdays, so Mary made a full pot of coffee, filled the carafe, and set up a self-serve area with cream and sugar. By late morning, she had names and contact info for two retired couples, a newly divorced woman and her son, a nurse who’d finally passed his board exam, and a thirty-something lesbian couple pushing a cat in a stroller, though she doubted the women’s names were really Clee Torres and Connie Lingus. She was washing mugs when Eli and Felicity arrived.
Felicity hung her trench coat in the closet and said to Mary, “Aunt Claudia and Eli thought I should begin my orientation at In-Spire today.” Then, tossing her hair over her shoulder she giggled, “Didn’t you, Eli?”
Eli cleared his throat. “Claudia strongly suggested it.”
“Lovely,” Mary said tightly.
“We’ve been all over town in Eli’s racy little car, along the lake, through the old garment district, even up to the Buttonville Lofts! He’s so knowledgeable,” Felicity gushed. “I learned more from Eli in one morning than in two weeks with Aunt Claudia and Uncle Stephen.”
“He certainly knows his business,” said Mary.
Eli blushed. “I’ll let Mary take over from here, Felicity. She knows her way around the sales office better than anyone.”
“No need to rush off,” said Mary. “Claudia told me Felicity would be ‘learning the ropes’ from you.”
Eli took a step back. “Uh, I’m taking a client to lunch. A businessman from Shanghai whose daughter will be starting college here. I have to secure a table. You know how Fridays are.” He tapped his watch. “And you can’t keep a client waiting.”
“Silly Eli,” said Mary. “I’ll make a reservation for you. What restaurant?”
“Roasters.”
“The coffee shop? Really?”
“Mr. Fung said he likes their sandwiches.”
“If you leave now, you’ll be forty-five minutes early,” said Mary, “by racy little car or on foot.”
“I’m going by the bank first.” Eli stepped back again and vanished.
She was alone with Felicity, whose heavy sigh betrayed a lack of enthusiasm for being trained by anyone other than Eli. However, Felicity was Claudia’s niece and Mary’s margin for error was narrow. She had to be nice.
“Coffee?” offered Mary.
Felicity flashed her too-gorgeous smile. “Yes, thank you. Cream and sugar.”
Mary poured mugs for each of them and gestured to the faux living room. “We might as well be comfortable. I’ll show you the administrative stuff after lunch.”
After they were seated, Felicity said, “It’s a pleasant surprise to be here. The main office is so boring.”
Mary smiled. “Why don’t you tell me about your morning so far, Felicity?”
“Well, first thing this morning, Aunt Claudia and Eli had a meeting. I couldn’t hear everything, but it sounded to me like Aunt Claudia thinks Uncle Stephen and Eli would make a strong team here, at In-Spire. Sooo, Uncle Stephen and I would work here, and if you pull up your socks, you’ll be allowed to go back to Hill Realty.”
“What did Eli say to that?”
Felicity twirled a lock of hair around her finger, scanned the ceiling for an answer, then looked at Mary. “Nothing. Well, nothing I could hear. His voice didn’t carry like Aunt Claudia’s, but I think he’d be pleased, don’t you?”
Mary nodded. “And then? Off you went to see the city?”
“Yes, though Eli yacked on his phone half the time. We drove by condos that he thought Mr. Fung and his daughter might like while I picked his brain on how to get my real estate license. I’ve heard the exams are hard, but Eli said he passed on his first try and he thought I could too.”
So there really was a Mr. Fung. She shouldn’t have doubted him. Eli wasn’t a liar, but he’d acted so cagey. “What about psychology, Felicity? I thought you only had a term left in your program.”
“I do, but Eli is succeeding without a degree and now I’m rethinking my goals.”
“Your Aunt Claudia has a BA in economics. Maybe you should discuss your plan with her.”
Felicity shrugged and sipped her coffee.
“What did you think of the Buttonville Lofts?” asked Mary.
“They were cool. A bit far from the college, so Mr. Fung won’t buy there, but Eli wanted to see them for a friend. Eli doesn’t trust pictures. He says photographers play with the light and shoot from a wide angle. He took their sales material. For reconnaissance, he said.”
“A clever word.”
“He’s so smart. And good looking.” Felicity leaned forward and lowered her voice, no mean feat for someone who spoke at a pitch verging on ultrasonic. “I’ll tell you a little secret.”
Mary drank her coffee and nodded. Here it was—
“I think I have a crush on Eli Klassen. Every time we’re near each other, I get this powerful feeling.” She slid her hands up and down her trunk. “Jonquil calls it ‘tantric energy.’ And you know what else?”
“No,” said Mary.
“I think Eli likes me, too.”
Jesus. “You know what I think?” said Mary. “I think you’ve had a long morning and you should take your lunch break early. Relax. Process all the new information you’ve had to stuff into your little head. That way, you’ll come back fresh and ready to learn more.”
As Felicity was about to reply, a battleship of a woman entered the office with two younger women in tow.
“Be back by one o’clock?” Mary said as she stood to greet them.
Felicity nodded, abandoned her mug, and flounced away.
****
After viewing three condos, Mr. Fung resolved to sleep on his decision, so Eli dropped him off at the Sheraton, then drove back to Hill Realty to confront Claudia without Felicity or Stephen eavesdropping on their conversation. Claudia’s niece was a sweet girl, but her voice bore into his skull like a dentist’s drill. Claudia knew that he and Stephen didn’t get along. She’d repeated the word “dream team” like a motivational mantra, but to Eli, Claudia’s plan was a nightmare. The real dream team was Mary and him. Mary was a whiz with paperwork, which freed him to sell.
As he walked up to the front doors, Claudia was leaving the building, so he held the door for her and joined her on the sidewalk.
“We discussed everything this morning,” she said crisply.
“Within earshot of Felicity,” he countered. “We couldn’t speak frankly.”
Claudia marched like a Russian soldier and oncoming pedestrians gave her a wide berth. Despite his long legs, he had to hustle to keep up. “I only need a few minutes of your time,” he added.
“You may walk me to yoga. This conversation must be over by the time we get to the Bodhi Tree.” Claudia looped her arm under his, an unwelcome intimacy, but at least she slowed down.
“I think you should reconsider placing Felicity and Stephen at In-Spire,” he said in a measured tone. “Mary works well independently, and I need someone there who can troubleshoot. And Felicity, well, she’s very young.”
“She’s twenty-three.”
“And untrained.”
“The job isn’t neurosurgery and she’ll have Stephen to help her.”
“Claudia, you know that Stephen doesn’t like me.”
“Ah-ha! You’re finally catching on. I’m not asking you to like each other. Stephen needs tough love, Eli. A role model who can stand up to him and rein in his impulses. Our therapist says it shouldn’t be me because I feed his mommy complex.”
“What about Jonquil?”
“Didn’t I mention his mommy complex?”
“Okay. Lori or Alex or Bill.”
“They’re ecstatic if they make a single sale each quarter. They’re low volume.”
“Stephen’s fifty years old. I can’t ‘rein in’ Stephen. I feel like you’re setting me up to fail.”
