CHAPTER 9: SOUR GRAPES

Daphne Chanders walked into the headquarters of Prada USA division, fairly pissed off. Instead of going back to Pittsburgh, she received a call from Molly Taylor about Craig and Arnold’s latest antics. After sleeping in hotels for the better part of ten months- her choice, but whatever- she longed for her own bed. Her job was primarily as an International Liaison between Winston Inc and Taylor Enterprises, along with acting as the primary contact for Justin’s other personal businesses. It was a career that she generally loved to distraction and a much needed, very welcomed diversion after the death of her son.

However, over the last six months her role had been reduced to that of a fucking fire extinguisher. Arnold, for some reason, was determined that Craig have the inheritance he was passed over for. There was more to that unholy alliance than met the eye. Like Justin, she knew that J.J. Taylor placed the company in Justin’s hands to protect his best friend Arnold from the same homophobic asshole he was hellbent on supporting. None of them could figure out what kept Arnold backing a man who would toss his ass out faster than a seasoned whore turned tricks without change to spare.

But one thing she was certain of... if Craig and Arnold’s flat and fat asses weren’t fired for this latest round of bullshit, she swore to herself that she would castrate them both before burying them alive with their dicks in each other’s mouths. She was that tired of them! Sighing for the third time in as many minutes, Daphne adjusted her suit, which she had changed into just before the approach to JFK International Airport, and refreshed her makeup while staring into the restroom mirror. A little pressed powder, a little lipgloss, and barely a touch of charcoal gray eyeshadow to match her silk shirt, and VOILA!

Done, except for her hair! I may be utterly exhausted but thank fuck, I don’t look like I am, she thought to herself. She felt the anger at the assholes trying to creep up again, but she didn't have time to let it fester. It was time like this- the times when she needed to redirect her anger- that she was glad she had to actually put in some real effort with her hair; the act grounded her. Pulling out her hard-bristled brush, she began to tame her naturally curly hair into a semblance of the straight style she favored when attending meetings.

Once finally where she wanted it, she took some water into her hand and mixed it with a little gel to slick into her hair. She allowed her ponytail in the back to hang long, instead of effecting the severe bun she always wore. After the long flight, she just didn't have the patience to twist and knot the hair at the base of her neck. The DeCampos already knew to expect her, so that small mark of casualness wouldn’t be minded. And for that she was grateful.

During the limo ride to the office building in Midtown, she had a moment to think about the situation. From what she had gleaned from Molly, this was deliberately done because of some altercation Craig had with Justin. She needed to figure out exactly how to work that angle, especially with Caesar DeCampo. He was very similar to how Craig Taylor was, but without the overt idiocy. He also believed that as the man- the patriarch- of the family, his will was to be obeyed at all times, without question.

It had taken many arguments between him, and his wife to get him to be at all flexible when dealing with his grown children. But every now and again, that stinking thinking would rear its ugly head. She could only hope that this wasn’t such a time. The last thing Justin needed to be told was that he should respect a man, simply because they shared DNA. If Caesar even looked like he would direct that thought to her boss and best friend, Justin would flay him alive.

And that would just be one more fire for me to put out. No, the best person to talk to first would be Donatella, who was the real power behind the high-fashion empire. Although Caesar had the presence which made the company what it has become, Donatella was the beauty and brains of the operation. She knew how to handle people. And although there wasn’t a doubt that Caesar loved Justin as his own son, there was still the matter of their ginormous egos to contend with.

Between Donatella and her, they would have to find a way to keep the two headstrong men from acting as bulls in a china shop, each wrestling for some sort of control over the other. Alighting from the elevator, Daphne made her way to the reception desk. “Good Afternoon, I’m Daphne Chanders here to see Donatella DeCampo.”

“Do you have an appointment?” the young receptionist asked, looking at the computer screen. She had yet to make eye contact with Daphne.

“No I don’t but…”

“Well then there is no way you will be seeing Ms. DeCampo today. She does not take unsolicited interviews.”

Daphne’s already frayed nerves were grating even further, when the little chicken-head sniffed as she looked her up and down. Trying for a calm she certainly didn’t feel, Daphne said, “As I was saying, Miss, she will see me. It’s regarding one of her biggest accounts. Kindly call Shelly, her personal assistant, which is clearly the position you are bucking for but will never have, and tell her that I am here. NOW!”

Before the receptionist, who had narrowed her eyes at Daphne, began to speak, she heard her name being called. Turning to look for the accented male voice, she was surprised and delighted to see Cesarino DeCampo just coming off of the elevator.

“Daphne, what a lovely surprise. You are as beautiful as always,” he said as he kissed each of her cheeks.

“You’re not bad on the eyes yourself, Chaz. You are still going by that name when you are here in the States, aren’t you?” It was a running joke between them since people always either mispronounced his name, or confused him with his father.

“Yes. My American name suits me just fine when I’m in America, thank you very much. Are you on your way to see Father? Is Justin with you?” He looked past her, trying to detect the presence of the blond. Daphne laughed at his transparent look of disappointment.

“Justin will be along shortly. He is still en route from Pittsburgh, I imagine. We only received word of this debacle, while I was on a plane heading back from Italy.”

He nodded. “Arnold, how do you say… really stepped in it this time, huh?”

Daphne laughed at the carefully worded saying uttered in his accent. “Yes, he did. And Justin is beyond pissed this time. I will be surprised if the idiot is able to keep his job. I hope Craig has a way of digging him out of the hole he’s made for himself. I mean, after all these years…”

“I know. Father had a similar problem once, remind him to tell Justin about it. In the meantime, I imagine that you will like to talk to Mother first?”

They were moving to the elevator when the receptionist called out. “Uh, Mr. DeCampo, she doesn’t have an appointment. I doubt Mrs. DeCampo would be happy for the intrusion, especially on a Saturday.” She scowled in Daphne’s direction as Chaz uttered a host of epithets at and about the little upstart, causing Daphne to suppress a chuckle.

Schooling his own features into one of polite indifference, while turning back to her, he said, “She doesn’t need one. Any and I do mean any of Justin Taylor’s representatives are welcome here with or without an appointment, any time of the day or night. Thank you for trying to do your job efficiently, but in future, you would do well to remember that if you don’t know something, you should ask.  Come on Daphne, Mother will be most anxious to get all of the information on this latest insanity courtesy of Craig Taylor.

Daphne moved behind Cesarino, fighting the urge to turn back and stick her tongue out at the still-pinched faced chick at the desk. But above all things, she considered herself a consummate professional, and would not allow the insignificant young woman to drive her to becoming petty. Daphne Chanders was above that. Keeping that in mind, she straightened her spine just that tiny bit more and readjusted her head to that arrogant stance all WASPs were known for. As she turned in the elevator, just before the door closed, she could see the effect it had on her temporary, unimportant nemesis.

Yeah bitch, I’m the real deal; you’re the fake.

Chaz noticed and laughed. “Arrogance becomes you, my beautiful wise one.”

Daphne flashed him a huge smile. “It always has. I just try to make the peasants that cross my path feel to be my equal.” They shared a laugh as the doors opened, and Daphne realized that it was show time.

~AC~

The flash of numerous cameras blinded each of them, as they alighted from the corporate jet of Taylor Enterprises. Although not unexpected, it was still a nuisance. Melanie and Emmett were doing their best to shield Gus, as they made their way to the waiting limousine through the throng of reporters shouting questions. They were followed by Ted, Maggie, and Marcia, who were only too happy to enter their mobile safe haven. Fortunately Donovan had arrived and was waiting for them at the hangar.

He moved towards his boss and Justin, hand outstretched. “Interesting return to New York you’re having, Brian.”

“Well what can I say? You know how much I like to make an entrance.” The two men laughed, which was joined in by Cynthia. Donovan had worked with them for such a long time, that their repartee was old hap for her. “I suppose I should introduce you to our newest client, although judging by this crowd, it shouldn’t be needed.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Taylor, even if I wish it were under better circumstances.”

“Likewise, Donovan. Unfortunately, the reason I’m in New York can’t be helped. This is all his doing.”

Donovan nodded. He had already been brought up to speed during Brian’s flight there. “Well, I’m sure between Mr. Brandt and I, we’ll figure out what actions we can take against him, if that’s your wish.”

“It is, but for now I’ll refrain from doing so. Making any overt challenges to him right now will have him playing the victim card. It doesn’t matter though, since nothing he does will make me bend over for him.”

“Okay, the idea of that is just disturbing, on so many levels,” Brian drawled, causing the others to laugh. “In the meantime, you’re going to have to make a statement, Justin.”

“My statement is more than clear. Craig Taylor can go to hell. But then the devil himself would probably kick him out for trying to overthrow the government there.”

“Although, I’m inclined to put it to the press just like that, the fact that you share DNA would likely cause this situation to get even more out of hand. That said, I think we have enough people- cast and crew, not to mention the spectators- here to hold an impromptu press conference. This way Craig cannot deny the facts, no matter what his irrational mind might come up with next.”

Justin paused, seeming to think of all the angles this debacle could be spun to his advantage. Coming to a decision, he said, “Fine, Brian. But make it count.”

Brian smiled at the young CEO, his cockiness matching the order Justin had issued. Being flanked by the attorneys and Cynthia, Brian walked confidently to where the press was gathered. Raising his hand, he was immediately gratified when silence reigned. He smirked inwardly, thinking that there must be a reason why this story garnered such interest, where the press was eager- almost rabid- for answers that a simple hand gesture quieted the hungry crowd. Clearing his throat, he began.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press, my name is Brian Kinney, CEO of Kinnetik Enterprises. However, my current role is that of Mr. Taylor’s official publicist. On the occasions that my client requires this service, it will be either myself or the Chief of Operations for Kinnetik, Ms. Cynthia Moore, who will stand before you to issue any official statements in Mr. Taylor’s personal interests, or that of his companies. Accepting the word of any substitute, will certainly result in legal ramifications. Now, I will start by saying the information you have been given is true. However, there were mitigating circumstances which you were not made aware of.

"It is true that Craig Taylor has been, in a sense, disowned by the Taylor family. The reason for that is private, however, publically I will state that the continued affiliation is not conducive to business goals and needs. In fact, it has proven to be downright detrimental. I will take your questions, but please keep in mind, that we reserve the right not to answer them. At any point during this press conference, which we are graciously giving without being asked or harassed, we also reserve the right to dismiss ourselves. This is a business trip and not one of pleasurable pursuits, so we do have a tight schedule to keep. This is your opportunity to ask decent, and fair-minded questions; it is advised that you use it wisely. I’ll take the first of your inquiries now.”

Justin stood by and watched a veritable master at work, even further convinced that he’d done the right thing by hiring Brian’s firm. It was fortuitous that the company also specialized in public relations. He thought back to all the times Mark had been put in the unenviable position of being his mouthpiece. The confidence and grace Brian exuded was vastly different from the cold sweat his friend would almost always break into. Justin could understand why Kinnetik’s fees were astronomical to many, but listening to Brian answer or field questions with charm, dignity, and the occasional bit of flair was mesmerizing. In Justin’s mind, it was money well-spent.

A red-haired reporter spoke up then. “Why the sudden secrecy? The Taylor and Winston families have always lived their lives openly, with nothing to hide. So why now?”

“It’s not that they aren’t living as openly as they have before; it’s that now there is more at stake. Understand that we are not here to bad-mouth the senior Mr. Taylor, but merely to point out the fact that while you have been given the truth, you have not been given the whole story. What brought you here today is only the tip of the iceberg. I would advise you to do your research before you print, or visually report anything.” Brian says.

“So your client believes it’s his right to disown his father?” Another reporter called out. Already Brian could tell the man was not only a homophobe, but a man a lot like his own father had been. The blue veins in his hawkish nose were very telling to Brian.

“In this case, yes. Craig Taylor has been given numerous chances to clean up his act and grow the business his son kindly gave to him, after he was disowned by his own father. There were various contretemps between J.J. Taylor and his son, resulting in Craig Taylor being passed over to inherit.”

“What were they?” The reporter narrowed his eyes, as if daring Brian to withhold the information.

Brian smirked. “Amongst other things, J.J. Taylor employed people from all walks of life, including those of alternative lifestyles. The late great Mr. Taylor did not wish to see any of his employees, who have done their jobs to the best of their abilities and make the company as successful as it is, unfairly terminated based on sexual orientation or unwillingness to change their lifestyles to suit Craig Taylor. There are also a host of single parents in the company, who would have been turned out simply because they are either unmarried or divorced.”

“And why is that wrong? Mr. Taylor is obviously conservative and believes in family values.”

“So much so that he would rather children starve than have their parents continue to earn a decent wage with support, such as Tuition Reimbursement, Childcare, Flex Spending accounts, and the like. Mr…”

“Robertson. John Robertson with the Sun Times.”

“Mr. Robertson with the Sun Times, I realize that you are a conservative man who writes for a newspaper, which pushes that specific agenda. I respect you for holding to your values. However, I also believe that the press should be impartial and not bigoted in any form, or fashion when reporting the news. It is therefore, my belief, that you are standing here with an article already written based on fabrication and conjecture. You are hereby publicly warned again that ANY word that is deemed inappropriate, including that of your personal beliefs that children should obey their fathers, even at high costs to themselves, will result in slander and defamation of character lawsuits. I’m not sure what your relationship is to the senior Mr. Taylor, or what you stand to gain by publicly challenging Justin Taylor’s position as the head of his family. But I can assure you that whatever it is will come out, and the same ditch you are trying to dig for my client, will be the one your career will rot in. Keep that in mind, Sir. I have time for one more question...”

A small blond woman at the front of the crowd spoke. “Mr. Kinney, according to Craig Taylor, he asked his son for financial help but was refused. Can you tell us why that is?”

“Since it is a matter of public record, I can. Justin Taylor has had to financially rescue Craig Taylor numerous times. Now whereas Justin is not a selfish man and understands that there is more than enough fortune to take care of his family, he is also not unnecessarily wasteful. He honors his legacy, cultivating and growing his businesses in order to keep those employed within his company in a manner of living that they have been accustomed to. He believes in fostering the same family-like legacy, which his grandfathers left within each of their companies.

"That said, on many occasions, Craig Taylor abused his son’s generosity and loving spirit. This time, Justin offered to place Craig in a facility that would get him the help he desperately needs, but he was refused. Plain and simple, Craig Taylor wants money. Although I will not publicly state the reason, I will advise you again to do your research, since it is also a matter of public record, even though it is also being held for possible litigation. As for my client, he has done his best by the man who sired him, but now he’s through. You can only help a person, if they genuinely want it; it’s clear that Craig Taylor does not. That’s all we have time for today. Thank you for welcoming us to New York, and we’ll see you soon.”

As Brian moved off from in front of the press, who were still shouting questions at him, he ushered his party to the waiting limo. Melanie and Emmett looked shocked, but Ted’s look was that of pride. He had seen Brian conduct these sort of interviews on many occasions for their other clients, and it never failed to amaze him what a consummate spin doctor Brian was. As for Justin, he couldn’t stop beaming at the man, realizing just what Brian had done for him.

“Brian, you were brilliant! My mother and sister are going to love you. Hell, even I’m tempted to.” He laughed.

Brian folded his lips in at the compliment. “I just gave them what they wanted… the whole truth, but without incurring lawsuits. Basically, your wish of consigning Craig Taylor to hell was just accomplished. Once all of the information about the abuse of his live-in girlfriend, the attempted and deliberate sabotage of his business and yours, and his continued drug abuse come out, there won’t be a place he can run or hide. No one will blame you for washing your hands of him.”

“Except that bigoted bastard Robertson,” Justin grumbled.

“Don’t worry about Robertson; I know his type. There is some connection between him and Craig, which is obvious. I’m pretty certain that while the press is digging, they will find that too. We just have to be patient and wait. In the meantime, you have businesses to run, so do that. Mel, Donovan, and Peter, make sure you keep your eyes open. I don’t trust any of them not to embellish the facts they were given.”

“Brian, I hate to bring this up but… well, it’s come to my attention that Lindsay is having Justin investigated. According to Molly, she arrived at the corporate office this morning, pretending to be your new wife,” Maggie said.

“WHAT?!?!?!” Mel, Ted, and Emmett yelled even as Brian laughed. “What the hell is so funny about that, Brian?” Melanie asked, fuming that Lindsay would be that desperate.

“Well you don’t think she thought this up all by herself, do you? That is something that Michael probably convinced her to do, since he hasn’t been able to catch up with me. Better some action instead of inaction while they wait for the investigator’s report, right? Justin, didn’t you say he was thrown out of the building yesterday?”

“Yeah, he was. Molly saw to it.”

“Well there’s your answer. Lindsay and Michael would try anything to bring Brian to their sides. The sad thing is that they are bound to get even more desperate, especially Lindsay, since Gus isn’t within reach this time,” Emmett pointed out.

“So I guess we just sit tight and wait for the next ignorant move,” Brian said. “In the meantime, we go about our lives and Justin owes me for services rendered this morning…”

“I’ll write you a check.”

“No, I have something a little more… personal, in mind.”

Justin smiled wide at Brian’s suggestion. “I’ll look forward to it.”

~AC~

Michael barreled into the coffee shop, mentally exhausted from just having his ass handed to him by his mother. Then realizing that he was running late for this meeting, he practically ran the entire distance between the Diner and Birch Street Cafe. Her ass better be here, or I'm gonna be pissed for rushing around for nothing! Sweating profusely and looking around, he finally spotted her. She was sitting there sipping her coffee, and staring off into space like she’d just been given the shock of her life.

He pushed through the crowd amid various ‘heys’ and ‘watch where the fuck you’re goings,’ uncaring of the near-carnage of hot beverages he’d left in his wake in his anxiousness to hear what she’d found out. He sat down as if the chair was indeed a lifeline before addressing her hurriedly. “Sorry, I’m late, Lindz. Ma was in rare form today!”

“No matter, Michael. And besides Deb is rare form everyday, but I suppose that’s considered normal for her.”

Michael let that comment pass, as the last thing he wanted was to get into an argument with the one person still talking to him. But she sure was one to talk about parents though; at least, his supported his sexuality! But that was a conversation for another day. “So what did you find out? Has the investigator’s report come back yet? How close are we to getting rid of Brian’s new piece?”

“Nothing. No. Not a chance,” was her sullen response.

“Huh?”

Lindsay sighed harshly. “I found out nothing, except that his mother and sister are high-class bitches. Did you know they had the temerity to have ME investigated?! They knew chapter and verse about my life, including my parents’ lives. My mother has a lot to answer for! And no, the investigator’s report isn’t going to come back either. Apparently, Mrs. Jennifer Taylor called my father after I left that accursed building, and told him the real reason I wanted the report... not the one we came up with, that I was simply checking up on Brian for Gus’ sake.

"My father told me that I was a fool to fuck with the most powerful family of Pittsburgh; one of the most powerful ones in New York, too. In no uncertain terms, he’s withdrawn his unwitting support of our cause, told me to find a fucking life and not to contact him unless it has something to do with me suddenly becoming straight and deciding to marry his business partner’s son. I would rather be dead than marry that fish faced, Harold Archer. His mouth-breathing alone makes my stomach turn, but the idea of his sweaty, protruding gut rubbing against me continuously in his imitation of having sex...well, I draw the fucking line at that!” Her voice had escalated with every word, which had all activity within the cafe ceasing.

“Lindsay! Lindsay, get ahold of yourself,” Michael warned, narrowing his eyes at the other patrons staring in their direction. His glare was collectively returned for a few moments until the other customers finally decided he wasn’t worth the effort, and resumed their own quiet conversations and ordering. “So does this mean that piece of blond boy ass is untouchable? There has to be something!”

“Oh, there’s something alright...his father, Craig Taylor. But at the moment, there is nothing that can be done about, with or for him.”

“What do you mean?”

“According to the latest press conference, given by none other than Brian Kinney himself, Justin has decided that unless Craig enters rehab, the court orders and charges of drug abuse stand.”

“What? How did you find out about them if the investigator’s report hasn’t come back yet?”

“Since it’s all a matter of public record, I used Mel’s contacts within the police department to get an inkling of what’s going on by pretending to be her. People are so stupid! Anyway, her contact called the New York precinct closest to a prominent neighborhood in Central Park. I figured trying that area would be closest to where the Taylors actually live, and I was only half right. Craig Taylor lives- or should I say lived- in that area until as recently as last night. Justin evicted him, although his live-in girlfriend still lives there, for now.”

“So?”

“So the contact was only too happy to relay all of the information to me: why he was disowned by both Justin’s grandfather and now Justin; how long the family feud has been going on; what sparked the feelings of contempt… everything! Did you know that Justin was a father at eighteen, but the baby died? It was kept from the public, but was the subject of a loud argument and fight between Craig and Justin, one which resulted in J.J. Taylor disowning Craig. My mother probably knows more, since Jennifer also mentioned something about the Hobbs family. I know that Marlinda Taylor was engaged to my mother’s nephew awhile back and married him, but the marriage was annulled. No one has seen the young man since.”

“You don’t think…”

“I don’t know, Michael. But I suspect that if we find young Christopher, Justin will be too busy cleaning up that mess to be bothered with Brian.”

“And maybe, just maybe, Brian will finally come to his senses regarding his real friends, without that piece of blond boy ass trash to cloud his vision.”

They clinked cups, deciding on a plan to find the missing Christopher Hobbs, each hopeful that his return would bring about the destruction of Justin Taylor. How funny was it that they never even noticed how the people around them had, once again, gone extra quiet and were listening attentively to every single word said.