Chapter 36 - Machinations.

Machinations:  Scheming or crafty actions or artful designs intended to accomplish some usually evil ends.

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Brian's POV

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The first thing I do this morning, as soon as I get to the office, is call Ted in. I can tell it's good news as soon as he walks in the door by the shit eating grin he's sporting. He almost waltzes up to my desk and deposits a tidy accordion file full of papers in front of me.

"Got 'em, Bri!" Ted crows. "The Subordination Agreement from First Penn just came in by fax and the rest of the loan and security agreements along with the retail marketing contract, each bearing the original signature of one soon-to-be-sorry Craig Taylor, arrived by courier first thing this morning. As soon as I get the UCC filings completed with the Secretary of State's Office, I'll wire the funds to Hikaroshi and this will be a done deal. Until Apple files their patent violation suit, that is. Then, it's likely to unravel faster than your grandma's knitting."

"Theodore, you're amazing," I congratulate him as I start signing all the papers as he puts them in front of me one after the other. "That's got to be the fastest financing deal ever brokered. You'll have to remind me to give you another raise next time we renew your employment contract."

"Now, as soon as everything is signed, sealed and filed," I continue, "I want you to 'mistakenly' email a copy of the marketing contract over to Vanguard Advertising - make it look like an accident somehow, like you're trying to send something else and get the wrong attachment - whatever, just so long as it gets there. Last I heard, Vance was still doing the marketing work for Apple's local subsidiary. I'm sure that once he sees that contract he'll make sure his client knows what their competition is up to. That should hurry things along on the patent dispute side of things."

"Remind me again never to get on your bad side, oh evil one," Ted says, packing all his paperwork away. "I'll let you know as soon as it's all finalized, Bri."

Even if it all comes together by tomorrow, it would still be too late. Nothing I do now will erase those memories that Justin has to deal with every day. And, maybe I can't fix this, but making Craig Taylor rue the day he was born might make me feel a little better, at least.

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Justin's POV

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I really love my job. Every day I get to come to Kinnetik with Brian, I go downstairs to the art department and sit at MY desk. Then I spend ten to fifteen minutes looking over my ToDo list and planning out my day. Those first few minutes are the best part of my whole day, because I'm planning all the things I'm going to do and I love the anticipation I feel then. Plus, I simply love looking at that ToDo list.

Jessica showed me the other day how to use the computerized calendaring system the rest of the office uses - it has a 'tasks' function that works just like a ToDo list. On the computer, when you finish a task and click the little 'done' box, the task disappears off the list so that you only get to see the pending, unfinished tasks in your list. But I think I'll stick to my handwritten paper list, at least for now. I like the feeling I get when I draw a line through a task I've done and then still see it there on my list. I'm on my third or fourth page of my list now, but I haven't gotten rid of any of the pages with crossed off stuff. I like having that little history of all my accomplishments to look at all the time. I like knowing that I've been able to do all those things, mostly all by myself, and then adding new future accomplishments to the list as well.

Looking at that list now, I'm amazed at how much I've done. ME. Justin Taylor - former street hustler turned graphic artist. I'm sure that if I didn't have this list here to look at it would seem even less real. But see, it shows I've completed everything I was responsible for on the Daddies Board Shop account - my first ever ad campaign - which is being wrapped up by others right now. And, there's the stuff I did on the VooDoo Doughnuts campaign with Jessica. Right now the list shows I'm working on three other projects, simultaneously. I've never felt more useful or more real. 

When I think about the fact that what I'm doing is making money for Brian's company, I get even more satisfaction. Every one of those completed tasks, in essence, equates to a little pay back for all of the wonderful things Brian does for me. I'm helping Brian. That feels even better than all the rest. 

I've received several paychecks by this point and I've put them all in the bank. I like knowing that I have that money there in case I were to ever need it. But, for the moment at least, I'm not really sure what purpose it's serving, since Brian never lets me pay for anything. I'm planning on having a talk with him about that soon. I know that he likes taking care of me and paying for things, but I want to help. It's like the ToDo list - I want to be able to see that I'm contributing. Maybe I'll put that talk on my ToDo list - that way I'll get to cross it off later.

Before I finish going through my list and planning out my day, Ted comes bustling through the door and he's veering towards my desk, his usual portfolio full of papers tucked under his left arm. 

"I've got something for you, Justin. I think you're going to like this, too," he says, handing me an official looking envelope. "It's your official, replacement Birth Certificate. I know it took forever - god, the amount of bureaucracy it took to get that is mind boggling. But that should be the hardest part. Now that you've got this, you can get a new State ID and eventually a Driver's License, not to mention a new Social Security card and then even a passport. You, my boy, are well on your way to being officially back on the grid."

"Thanks, Ted," I tell him, very appreciative of the amount of work he's gone through on my behalf. "I feel like a real person again and now I'll soon have the paperwork to prove it."

"Don't mention it," Ted says. "Just give me a couple more weeks and I should have everything set up for you to go get your photo ID from the state."

This merits a little celebration, I think. I pick up my envelope and head upstairs to share my excitement with the only other person who will understand. I stop at Cynthia's desk on the way and ask if now is a good time to bother the boss. She winks at me and comments that the boss rarely minds a good 'bothering'. She also tells me that Brian's on the phone right now but that he doesn't have any other appointments this morning and I can go in if I want, but to remember to lock the door behind me. That Cynthia has a very naughty mind, but I like where she's going with this, so I take her advice, locking the door behind me as I enter Brian's lair.

"I don't give a fuck about that. It's not my problem," Brian's yelling into the phone as he paces back and forth behind his desk, he sees me and waves me to sit though, so I don't leave. "What I do care about is that you're already two weeks late on your first payment. The financing agreement was clear on this point. If I have reason to doubt the financial stability of your company, I have the right to request that a receiver be appointed to take over the operations of the business. That's all I've done. You shouldn't have signed the contract or taken my money if you didn't like the terms . . . "

"Well, of course I'm a heartless bastard. I'm a businessman, aren't I? Who'd you think you were borrowing money from, Mother Theresa? . . . I told you, I don't give a fuck about your mortgage or alimony. Make your payments to me and prove to me your business is stable and then you can do whatever else you want with the rest of your money. And don't waste my time with your whining in the meantime, you fucking prick."

Brian almost screams that last part into his phone before ending the call and tossing his phone across the room, where it thankfully lands on an upholstered chair which cushions it's fall. I'm pretty sure that he's not in the mood for my little trivial news after that phone call, but there is something I can do to help him. I get up from the chair I was sitting in and walk around his desk to interrupt his frenetic pacing. When he turns at the end of his latest lap, he almost knocks me over but manages to grab me at the last minute. Then he smiles at me, a bit sadly but a smile nonetheless, and then hugs me tightly. I can feel the tension draining out of him as we stand there, arm in arm, for several minutes. 

"Oh, Sunshine," he says finally, sighing while his one hand plays with the hair at the nape of my neck. "That's exactly what I needed."

"That's all you needed?" I ask incredulously. "I was thinking that maybe you needed just a bit more than a hug after that conversation. In fact, I think I know a really great way to get rid of all that stress, but it's going to involve a lot more than just a hug, Mr. Kinney."

I grab ahold of his expensive silk tie and drag him after me till my ass is bumping against the edge of his neatly organized desk. Pulling Brian down with that convenient tie, I take a long slow taste of those luscious deep red lips, enjoying the unabashed response I'm getting from Brian. Then, I release my hold on his tie, briskly unzip my pants and push them and my briefs down. Brian's only a movement or two behind me with his own slacks, I see, and as soon as he's done with that little job, he immediately seizes me, spins me around and bends me over the edge of his smoked glass desktop. 

My efficient, bold businessman doesn't waste any of his precious time. He pulls a convenient condom and a bottle of lube out of his desk drawer and preps both himself and me without much fuss. Then he slides his hands up my back, under my shirt, so he has more exposed skin to touch and caress and taste. Finally, curling one hand over my shoulder to hold me steady, he guides himself with his other hand and with one steady, direct motion, he slides into me hard, fast and full.

"Fuck, Sunshine," Brian breathes into the skin on my back as he practically collapses on me from the ecstasy of that first thrust. "I need you so bad right now. You better hold on. This is going to be hard and fast."

I just have time to curve my hands around the edge of the desk down next to my hips to hold on as directed before Brian grabs my shoulders with both hands and then slams into me as hard as he can. Again and again, he's ramming into me, not bothering with any of his usual finesse, just driving himself and me relentlessly. The precum from my dick has already leaked out onto the cold glass desktop and made a slick little puddle that I slide through with each of Brian's powerful thrusts and I'm getting off on the odd sensation of the cool, slick glass sliding against my cock as much as I am on the feeling of that hot steel rod pounding up my ass. 

I wasn't really expecting how fast this implacable, demanding Brian was going to bring me off. I don't see this side of him that often - at home, I'm more used to seeing the tender, considerate lover who has all the time in the world to see to both our needs. This driven, hard-nosed businessman is different. He doesn't fuck around. He's got deadlines to meet and his time is worth something. He's not going to go easy on himself or anyone else around him. That includes not going easy on my ass when he's fucking the shit out of me across his desk between meetings. Did I mention that I was really turned on by this?

I don't need any tender stroking to bring me off this time. My balls start to tingle with that electrical tension almost immediately. I briefly think about trying to hold back and wait for Brian, but that idea gets tossed the first time Brian drives in at a slightly different angle and hits my prostate dead on. Fuck waiting. I'm cumming now, hard, moaning and spewing wet puddles across Brian's desk as he slams into me over and over till I'm slithering through the mess I've made on the desktop. Brian seems to like the tableau I'm creating, and he cums seconds later, biting my shoulder blade to squelch his screams as he cums, his dick jumping in my ass as he shoots over and over till he collapses on top of me.

We lay there on the desk panting in unison for almost longer than it took us to fuck. I love the feeling of Brian's dick still inside me as we try to catch our breath. Brian eventually stands and pulls out, as I moan out from the sense of loss. I probably still wouldn't have moved though, if Brian hadn't carefully unhooked my fingers from their death grip on the edge of the desk, slid my body back through the puddle until my feet were again resting on the floor, and then pulled at my shoulders till I was once again upright. 

When he turns my body around to face him, he's laughing. I rapidly scan myself and note the damage to my wardrobe and the fact that I'm dripping cum all over. Glass table tops might be fun, but they don't help control the mess much. When I look down at the desk, I see the destruction wasn't limited to my clothing either - his files are strewn everywhere, a couple even edging on the puddles of cum. That's all it takes for me to break out laughing as well. Brian leans in to kiss me between giggles and he's still laughing too.

We continue laughing the whole time we work together to tidy up after ourselves. Brian grabs a towel from the bathroom and sets to work on the puddle. I strip off my hopelessly dirty shirt and then help straighten files. 

I stop briefly when I see a section of the local business journal that's fallen out of a file labelled 'TelePhonix' whose headline catches my eye. 'Hikaroshi and Taylor Electronics Enjoined By Court in Patent Infringement Dispute' it reads. That's my father's company, which is why the headline jumps right out at me. I'm just about to ask Brian more about it and why he had this article saved in his file, when my train of thought is broken by an ostentatious knock at Brian's office door.

"Brian. Your ten o'clock appointment is here," Cynthia says through the locked door. "I've got them set up in the conference room, since I figured your office might be a little . . . messy. But, you'd better get your dick put away and get in there before they get too bored."

Cynthia's attitude just causes us both to break out into even more laughter. Brian comes over and takes the stack of files out of my hands and trades me instead for a sweat shirt he's pulled out of his gym bag. It's huge on me and not the most elegant business attire, but it's much better than the cum stained shirt I was wearing, which is still lying in a heap on the floor next to the soiled towel. 

"I'll clean this up later, Sunshine," he tells me as he walks me out of the office on his way to his next meeting, his suit jacket already back on and without showing any visible evidence of our little extracurricular activities. "Thanks for the excellent stress relief treatment."

Then he's gone through the door of the conference room and I'm left to return back to my desk, feeling like I've gotten a really good start to my work day already.

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Brian's POV

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When I'm finished with my meeting in the conference room, I return to my office and start again on rectifying the destruction caused by Justin's earlier visit. Mmmmmm. That was a very enjoyable visit, too. I'm thinking we need more visits like that, much more often. But next time I'll remember to put a towel on the desk first, I think, as I scrub the dried cum off the desktop and the surrounding files.

Amongst the wreckage I locate Justin's phone and an envelope I don't recognize from the Office of Vital Statistics. I peek inside the envelope and see the official looking Birth Certificate and smile, realizing now why Justin had come to see me. That brings to mind the call I'd been on when he came in and my happiness dissipates a bit. Fucking Craig Taylor and his histrionics. But, I don't want his well orchestrated destruction to have negative repercussions for too many innocent bystanders -  which means I need to make a call to Jennifer Taylor.

I can't find my phone anywhere in this mess so I decide to use Justin's which happens to be conveniently at hand. I pull up his contacts list and tap on Jennifer's name then wait for the call to be connected. The call connects quickly but I don't immediately hear anyone on the other end of the line. Odd, but not too surprising, cell phone service being as spotty as it is sometimes. Then I hear what seems to be breathing on the other end, but something about the sound isn't right.

"Jennifer? Brian Kinney here. Is everything okay? I can't hear you. Can you hear me? Jennifer?" I can tell someone's on the line but they either aren't speaking or there's something wrong with the connection. "Jennifer, I still can't hear you. Why don't you call me back and maybe we'll get a better connection that way. I need to talk to you ASAP. It's about Craig. So, call me. Goodbye."

While I'm waiting for Jennifer to call back I finish cleaning up and reorganizing my desk. The TelePhonix file happens to have been one of those that got knocked over and part of the contents have fallen out. I locate all the pieces and refile it all neatly, reviewing in my head how well everything is going on that little project. 

The Apple patent infringement suit was filed less than a week after we got all the paperwork with Taylor Electronics completed. The lawyers promptly filed all sorts of injunctions against everyone involved and got a court order freezing all of Craig's business bank accounts. There was definite noise made about including TelePhonix in the panoply of defendants, but thanks to the Kinney charm and playing dumb - we were merely providing the financing and had nothing to do with either Hikaroshi or Taylor Electronics, after all - they agreed not to include us so long as we cooperate fully with the plaintiffs attorneys and provide them with complete access to all our records regarding the deal.

I was, of course, happy to give them a complete copy of the entire Taylor Electronics file, complete with some easily manufactured documents that seem to indicate that Taylor was fully aware, because of his stringent and all-encompassing due diligence research into Hikaroshi beforehand, of the pending patent dispute. That supports the other documents that seem to indicate Taylor was less than honest with his other lenders about the nature of this deal. First Penn is already bandying around the word 'fraud', which I'm doing nothing to discourage, and threatening their own lawsuits. Poor Craig, if his creditors succeed with their claims of fraud, he'll never escape the liability to them and won't even be able to protect his assets in bankruptcy. He might even end up in federal prison at this rate - bank fraud sounds so impressive, which is probably why the DA has been intimating that an indictment might be coming soon. TelePhonix will of course be happy to assist in any such prosecution, so long as we get full immunity from any legal action against us.

It hasn't been easy, but, it looks like everything is falling into place nicely. There really isn't anything else I have to do. I'm just waiting, now, to see how it all plays out - maybe giving a nudge here and there when I see an opportunity to turn the screws on Craig a little harder. But, it seems my part in the destruction of Craig Taylor is complete.

I'm just finishing my clean up job when Justin's phone finally rings and I see it's Jennifer calling back. It's about time, I think, wondering again what was up with that prior call. 

"Kinney," I answer.

"Brian? This is Jennifer Taylor. I was trying to return a call from Justin. Is he there?" 

"Actually, that was me that called before. I'm using Justin's phone because I've misplaced mine somewhere," I explain. "Jennifer, I need to talk to you about what's going on with Craig. Are you aware of what's going on with his business and all the litigation he's mixed up in right now? I'm worried that you're going to be caught in the middle, particularly where your alimony payments are concerned. If Craig goes down financially, which is looking pretty likely, how bad off are you going to be?"

"I didn't know about any litigation," Jennifer replies. "But that would explain the unpleasant visit I just had from Craig. He said he came over to explain why I haven't received this month's alimony yet. He seemed pretty upset - not that I care, but he did look a little frantic. So, what is it he's gotten himself into now?"

I give her a quick summary of Craig's current woes, leaving out my role in the fiasco, of course. Jennifer's only comment is that it serves the bastard right, although she's sorry for Craig's new wife, who she's heard is already pregnant. She seems pretty much resigned to the fact that she's unlikely to see any more alimony payments for quite a while. I offer to help her financially if she needs it, but she tells me she'll be okay, at least for now, thankfully removing that weight from my conscience.

"I appreciate you calling to let me know what's going on, Brian," she says when we're wrapping up the call. "It explains why Craig was so upset earlier. If he came over here looking for any sympathy from me though, he's certainly looking in the wrong place."

"I'm glad to hear that, Jennifer. Well, thanks for calling me back. By the way, wasn't the connection on that first call really fucked up? I wasn't even sure you'd heard me," I comment, still curious about that first call for some reason I can't yet pinpoint.

"What first call?" Jennifer asks.

"The call I made earlier on Justin's phone. I assumed that was why you'd called me back," I clarify, but when that still doesn't elicit any response, I continue. "I called you about fifteen minutes ago, and it seemed like the line connected but I couldn't tell if there was someone on the line or not. I figured that maybe you could hear me even if I couldn't hear you and I told you to call me back. You mean you didn't hear any of that?"

Jennifer doesn't say anything for several seconds, then she speaks, but in a hushed voice. "Brian, I didn't get any call earlier," she explains. "I just picked up my phone off the coffee table after Craig left - I was going to make some calls for work and had to scroll through my call log to find a number, and I saw there had been a call from Justin. That's why I called. I didn't get any call earlier." 

"I . . . M-M-My phone was sitting out on the coffee table when Craig was here, Brian," she stammers. "I was in my robe when he arrived but I didn't feel comfortable talking to him like that so I went into my bedroom to change while he waited in the living room. The door was closed so I wouldn't have heard if the phone rang, anyway. The phone was sitting on the table the whole time, Brian."

The implication of what she's saying hits me then, hard. Fuck. Craig Taylor was the one who answered the call, not Jennifer. He heard me talking. I quickly review what I said in my mind - I'm sure I announced who I was and that I was calling Jennifer about Craig. I'm fucked! He's probably put it all together by now. Even an idiot like Craig will have figured out by now that I'm not merely some indifferent businessman who just happened to get him into this Hikaroshi mess. 

And, the worst part of all - if Craig saw the caller ID when the call came in on Jennifer's phone, he knows about Justin.