Hands in his pockets, Jeremiah Browning sauntered through the crowded street, forcing the flow of people around him like a rock in the stream. Everyone glared, coughed, or made a comment at the lit cigarette hanging from the corner of this mouth. Not that he heard through the headphones or acknowledged them from behind gold and red tinted glasses.

If it weren’t for the distance they gave his cigarette, Jeremiah would blend seamlessly with the crowd. Just another black face in a multi-hued mass of people. Back in Evergreen, he was the odd black outlier. Not here. San Ranola was looking better and better.

Turning the corner, he saw his destination. The building had no hard edges and dwarfed its neighbors. ‘Lanover’ stylized in white metal above the entrance, the bottom of the L underlined the other letters. Jeremiah took one last drag, smothered the cigarette under his shoe, and merged into the crowd crossing with the streetlight.

Entering the lobby, the mass of people gave him pause. Equal amounts of business professionals and what looked to be tourists. He spotted the security desk and dodged his way over.

“Jeremiah Browning for Nancy Lanover.”

The guard, ‘Popal’ on her badge and head wrapped in a scarf, nodded and typed his name in. The other guard, ‘Farrington’, had cornrows and thick box braids tied up at her shoulders. She smiled, glancing him up and down and started to say something, but a squawk from the radio on her shoulder drew her attention away.

“Mr. Browning,” Popal said. “Mrs. Lanover’s on her way down.” She held out an access card embossed with ‘Lanover Industries’ in sharp, metallic blue. “That’s yours to keep. If you lose it, let us know as soon as possible so we can deactivate it and get you another.”

“Thanks,” Jeremiah said, pocketing it.

“I like your glasses,” Farrington said, done with her radio call.

“Your braids are dope,” Jeremiah said, sliding down the desk to her. “They let you have those here?”

She shrugged. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with my job, they don’t care.”

Jeremiah nodded. No company in Evergreen would let her keep those. Hearing his name called, he turned to see Nancy coming forward with her hand out.

“Good to see you again,” she said, shaking his hand.

Her shoes put her almost a head taller than him. Their first meeting had been brief at his grandfather’s funeral months ago, and he had forgotten how imposing she was. And how firm her handshake was.

“Thanks,” he said, flexing his hand.

Nancy turned to the guards at the desk. “Ladan, Stacy, how are you today?”

“All good, ma’am,” Farrington said with a smile. Popal, on the phone, waved and gave her a thumbs up.

“Excellent,” she said, turning back to Jeremiah and extending her hand. “Shall we?”

They started toward the elevators, Jeremiah falling behind Nancy as she cut a swath through the throngs of people. She walked like she owned the place. She did, he realized, a second later.

“Is it always this busy?” Jeremiah asked.

She turned and smiled as they reached the elevators. “Around this time of day, yes. We have a history of San Ranola exhibit on the third floor and a popular public cafeteria on the second. If you’re hungry, I think the special is crab today.”

They bypassed the regular elevators to one with a security pad. Nancy had him use his badge and after a moment, he heard the whoosh of the elevator coming down.

“Your badge gives you access to any floor. Once we get your paperwork done, we’ll do a tour,” she said as they entered. “How was your trip down? Is your lodging suitable?”

“Flight was good and the hotel’s great.”

“Good. The Waldorf has the best views of the city.”

They exited the elevator to a short hallway. To the left, a picture of a large stern looking man hung next to the bathroom. The right had architectural plans up and down the walls. Directly in front of them was a man standing by a desk. Nancy stopped at the double doors next to him and said, “Jeremiah, this is Maurice Grant, my assistant.”

“Good to put a face to the voice,” Maurice said, shaking Jeremiah’s hand.

“Same. Thanks for making everything so easy.”

“It’s what I do,” Maurice said with a smile.

“All quiet up here?” Nancy asked as she opened one of the doors.

“Yes, I checked just before you arrived.”

“Excellent.”

Nancy let Jeremiah enter the office first and his jaw dropped as stepped in. The floor to ceiling windows wrapped the office, giving an amazing panoramic from the ocean to the mountains.

“Oh... wow,” Jeremiah said, wandering over to stand next to a treadmill that looked out over the city and ocean. Looking down, he watched the specks of people go about their lives. Teeny cars drove around a bus off, loading more specks. Surfing specks out on the ocean.

“Marion had good taste in positioning,” Nancy said as she appeared next to him.

“Do you ever get used to this?”

She smiled. “Never.”

She motioned to the couch and coffee table behind them. Jeremiah took in the rest of her office as they moved to sit. Bookshelves filled with periodicals, rolled architecture plans, and awards lined the entry wall. Nancy’s very large, fancy wooden desk sat in the center toward the end of the room. A long conference table sat on the other side of the room from the couch, coffee table, and chairs.

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Nancy retrieved a thick folder from her desk and started laying out documents. She glanced up and noticed his growing hesitation at all the paperwork. “Do you need to take a minute?”

After a deep breath, Jeremiah said, “No, let’s get this over with. Should have been done a while ago.”

Nancy sighed as she passed him a pen. “Legal battles are more attrition than rout.”

“Well, seven months of lawyers is more than enough attrition for me,” he said, shaking his head.

They worked through all the documents, Nancy explaining at each step what his level of involvement and influence was, as well as what each document was for. As Jeremiah handed over his last signature, Maurice brought in a bottle of champagne. He poured and handed each of them glasses before tucking the bottle into an ice bucket on the tale.

Jeremiah tossed back his flute of champagne. After a long exhale, he said, “Man, this is... a lot.”

Nancy smiled as she collected the documents and handed them to Maurice. She swirled her flute and sat back in her chair. “It is. We’re here to help if you have questions.”

“Thanks. I’m working my way through all the material you guys sent.”

“It helps to have a background in business or management.”

Jeremiah shook his head. “I’ve been sales almost my whole life.”

“That’s still experience you can draw on. If you plan on being with us for a while, you may want to consider an MBA.”

“I’ve thought about it. Just never had the time when I had a nine to five.”

“Well,” Nancy said with a sly grin as she stood. “Seems like your schedule just opened up. There are several excellent schools here. Let me get you some information.”

She walked back to her desk and looked through a drawer. Jeremiah felt something pull his trousers and when he moved his leg, a weight fell against it. Looking down, he saw little hands using his trouser leg to pull up a little blond head. When she got to her feet, she looked up at him and shook with surprise.

This must be her new daughter. She was blond haired and green eyed like Nancy but was tanner and had an Asian eye shape Nancy didn’t. To the best of his recollection, her husband -what was his name? Joe? Josh?- was a regular white guy. The whispers he heard at the funeral must be true.

He smiled down at the child. “Hello.”

Her eyes grew enormous, and she took a clumsy step backward. Jeremiah reached to catch her, so she didn’t fall. She looked at his hand on her and then back at him. Her face crumpled as she whimpered and pulled away from him.

“Hey, hey, I won’t hurt you,” he said.

“Oh, Shirley,” Nancy said as she returned.

Hearing her mother, Shirley turned and reached for her with a grunt. Nancy stopped several feet from them.

“Come on,” Nancy said as she knelt and held out her hands. Shirley glanced back at Jeremiah before whimpering and reaching out to her mother again. “She’s not a big fan of strangers,” Nancy said to him. Shirley opened and closed her hand, trying to stretch to her mother. “No, come to me.”

Shirley put one fat little leg out and wobbled as her fingers dug into Jeremiah’s hand for balance. Once she let go, she listed left, then right, before taking another step.

“That’s it,” Nancy said with a huge smile, beckoning Shirley. “You’ve got it.”

“Are these her first steps?” Jeremiah asked.

“Unassisted, yes.”

“What?!” Maurice shrieked from his desk outside.

“Come on, just a little further,” Nancy said as Maurice bolted into the room with a camera and started snapping pictures. Shirley was about a foot away from Nancy when she lost balance and pitched forward. Nancy scooped her up before she hit the floor and stood.

“That’s my girl,” Nancy said, swaying with Shirley, who latched onto her neck.

“I think I got some good ones,” Maurice said as he walked back to his desk, face in the camera's display.

Nancy sat across from Jeremiah. “I’m so sorry. She’s at the age where nothing can contain her. She was napping and must have escaped.”

“How old is she?” he asked.

“Eight months.” Nancy pulled Shirley off her neck and sat her facing him. She leaned forward and pointed. “Jeremiah’s nice. You’re going to see a lot of him.”

Jeremiah smiled and waved. Shirley frowned, turned, and flung herself into her mother.

“All right, all right,” Nancy said and hoisted Shirley up so she could hug her neck and shoulders again. “Maybe next time.”

Seeing them this close together, his curiosity got the better of him. “Can I ask a personal question?” Jeremiah asked, leaning back.

Nancy’s eyebrow shot up. “Only if I can do the same.”

He chuckled and nodded. Best to approach this tactfully. After a moment he said, “I’ve heard… things about your daughter.” Nancy’s smile flattened just a hair. “I’m curious how your husband’s dealing with her?”

Nancy gazed at Jeremiah and then looked at her daughter, who was playing in her hair.

“Extreme indifference,” she said after a moment. “I think in his mind, if he acts like she doesn’t exist, then she won’t.”

Jeremiah nodded. “I didn’t ask to be nosey. Well, I did, but... I dealt with a lot of hostility from Micah once he and mom had my siblings. Be careful, indifference can become something else.”

Nancy’s eyes narrowed, and it was like another face slid down over hers, melting her smile.

“That would be foolish of him,” she said in an icy tone that raised the hairs on Jeremiah’s arms. A heart beat later, her smile was back. “My turn?”

Jeremiah nodded and held his hands out.

Nancy moved Shirley to her other side and adjusted her jumper. “Your grandfather was a thorn in my side from the beginning. Every olive branch I extended was refused or ignored,” she said, straight faced as she bounced Shirley. “I don’t suppose you know what his problem was with me?”

Jeremiah’s snort turned into a belly laugh.

“You aren’t the first person to ask me that,” he said after catching his breath. Jeremiah took one more deep breath and sat back. “My grandfather was tired of living for as long as I knew him. He’d been all over the world. Made a fortune so big he could never spend it all. He had lovers. Had children and grandchildren. He’d done it all. I think one of the few things that still brought him joy was being an agent of chaos.”

Nancy squinted. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Jeremiah shrugged. “As far as I know, he didn’t have anything against you. He was just a rich old asshole who enjoyed being spiteful for the sake of being spiteful.”

Nancy stared at him for a moment before chuckling. “The simplest answer sometimes. Is that why he chose you as his successor over his biological grandchildren?”

“Only partially, I think. Trisha didn’t care for business and Micha’s a kiss ass who wasn’t worthy of it. My brother and sister were too soft for him. I was the only one who shared his beliefs.”

“Being an agent of chaos?”

Jeremiah smiled. “No. Patrick also believed in the gospel of ‘Get Mine’.”

Nancy straightened, that stone facade falling down again as her eyes bored into him. “Will you be continuing his campaign of resistance to me?”

“No ma’am.” Jeremiah held up his hands. “I don’t have the old man’s disgust for living. Plus, I’m new to this and need all the help I can get.”

She flipped back to smiles and warmth.

“I think I can help with that,” she said and turned. “Maurice?”

“Ma’am?” he said as he entered the office.

“Can you occupy her for a bit while I make a call?”

“Certainly.”

Maurice came over and made a silly face to Shirley. She giggled and reached for him. He took her and they danced back to his desk. Nancy got up and sat on her desk to make a call.

“Hello, Antony. How are you? I’m good. I was wondering if you were free this evening. I’m here with Jeremiah, our newest member, and I think you might offer some expert... tutoring.”