Shuttered Sky

“Maddy?”

“Well, since a winter coat magically appeared in my wardrobe a few days ago, I assume I’m to go as well.”

Tessic put an arm around both of them as he led them to the stairs. “I assure you, you will both be better for the experience.”

* * *

Tessic joined them for lunch, listening avidly as Dillon went into detail describing the various tests and experiments he had done in Tessic’s absence. Then, while Dillon buried himself channel-surfing for news of the world, Maddy took to her own analysis, delving once more into Tessitech’s mainframe. Tessic called this Polish construction project a “sideline,” but from what she could see it was, aside from Dillon, his primary concern. It didn’t bode well with her that such a shrewd businessman would put all his attention into a money pit, and leave the rest of his business on auto-pilot.

In the computer, she found that Tessic’s personal jet was scheduled for another trip abroad in two weeks— but it wasn’t what she found that surprised her; it was what she didn’t find. It brought things into a sharp focus.

Late that afternoon, she approached Tessic on the roof garden. He was having what appeared to be a heated conversation in Hebrew with himself, but as Maddy got closer, she could see he was talking into a cellular phone headset. A man who spoke with his hands, Tessic’s motions resembled a kind of kinetic art. A corporate t’ai chi.

When he saw her, he cut the conversation short, and removed his headset, but his anger remained. He grabbed a glass of iced tea from the nearby table. “It’s falling apart, you know. In corporations every­where, there are executives resigning at the highest levels, nightmares in productions, funds disappearing.”

“Thank goodness for ‘sidelines.’ '

“Yes.” Tessic took a sip of his drink, and then another, calming down.

“It’s amazing those buildings of yours still go up with all that’s going on in the world.”

“Eastern Europe is used to chaos,” he answered. He poured her a glass, and offered her a seat, but did not pull it out for her, as he knew her aversion to such social niceties. “I can’t help but notice the trouble between you and Dillon,” he said.

Maddy gulped, and grimaced. “Not everything can be as sweet as your tea.”

“Our roles are rarely what we want them to be,” Tessic said, slip­ping from businessman into philosopher mode. “Have you considered that perhaps your place in each other’s lives lies outside of the bed­room?”

Maddy laughed at his audacity. “Are you trying to provoke me, or are you always this callous?”

“Do not misunderstand, Miss Haas. I think what you and Dillon have is wonderful. But a relationship requires a joining of mind, body and soul. If you can live with two of the three, my blessing to you. But if you find your own soul lacking, overwhelmed by his . . .”

Tessic hesitated, reconsidering his words. “I don’t mean to of­fend . . . but for both of your sakes, please be certain of your purpose in Dillon’s life. For when you are certain, your choice of action will be as clear as it was on the day you rescued him.”

“I like to think I make my own purpose,” she told him, cooly.

Tessic sighed. “There I go again,” he said. “I give you another reason to hate me.”

Maddy considered that, and shook her head. “I don’t hate you, Elon.” And then, with more sincerity than she thought she had in her, she said, “The truth is, I think you’re a great man, with more vision than I gave you credit for.”

The admission caught him by surprise. “Such a change!” he said, gloating a bit in the new light she cast him in. “What brings this about in a skeptical young woman like you?”

She looked down to the table preparing herself, then returned her gaze to Tessic. “Over the past two weeks, I’ve spent a lot of time studying your business dealings.”

“Really,” he said, crossing his legs, knee over knee. “Perhaps you found something interesting?”

“Oh, it’s all interesting,” she said. “But what I found most re­markable is your marketing plan for the Ciechanow project.”

“Oh, that.” He attempted to conceal a grin behind his tea. “And what interested you most about it?”

“The fact that there is no marketing plan. None whatsoever.”

Tessic sipped his tea, neither confirming nor denying it. He always said he was a man of honesty. She supposed that was true—she had never caught him in a lie. His were all sins of omission.

“All that living space, in the middle of nowhere,” Maddy said, “and no one invited to the party.”

Tessic didn’t try to hide his grin anymore. He leaned in closer to her. “I anticipate a need,” he said. “But you’ve already figured that out, haven’t you?”

“I wish I hadn’t.”

“And do you approve?”

Maddy deliberated on her response, and answered truthfully. “I think it’s brilliant. I think it’s terrifying.”

“A powerful combination.”

“And when were you going to tell Dillon what you’re planning?”

“I’m not planning anything,” Tessic insisted. “It will be Dillon’s idea, and he will plan it himself. I am merely laying the groundwork for when he does.”

“What makes you so sure he will?”

Tessic put his glass down, and studied her. “You’re not a woman of faith, are you Miss Haas?”

“It’s hard enough to believe what I see, much less what I don’t see.”

Tessic took a long draught from his glass, until the tea was gone, and the color drained from the ice, leaving it clean and clear. “Time will ease your doubts.”

“I can live with doubts,” she told him, “and once in a while even do the right thing. But it’s your lack of doubt that frightens me.”

25. Body Builders

Tessic got a call at eight o’clock the following morning that Security was detaining two visitors. The security officer apol­ogized profusely for disturbing him in his private penthouse, and the intruders would have been summarily expelled, had they not claimed to be relatives of Tessic’s guests. Since building security had not been informed that Tessic even had guests, it warranted his attention.

He found the two teenage boys in the security office, double-teamed by four guards. The guards were all unsettled—it was in their eyes and their stances; discomfort in the way they looked to one an­other, scratched their arms, necks and heads, complaining about the heat regardless of the fact that the air was overly conditioned with a breezy freon chill. Tessic knew the reason for their discomfort. There was a field of presence here, like the one Dillon exuded, but this one was different. A variant flavor, a different charm.

“Are you Tessic?” said the black teen, all attitude. It only aggra­vated the suspicions of the good ol’ boys with security badges.

“Get out!” Tessic said. The lead guard promptly advanced on the two teens, just as Tessic knew he would. “No,” Tessic said, stopping the guard in his tracks. “You and your men. Get out.”

The men looked to one another, clearly suffering some testicular trauma at their dismissal. The guards began to slink out, and Tessic took guilty pleasure in watching them go. When he was seventeen, all long hair and torn jeans, he would have been cast out of an establish­ment like this as well.

“In the future,” he told the exiting guards, “I expect you to treat visitors with common courtesy and respect—even the ones you ex­pel.”

Once the door had closed, Tessic turned to the black teen. “Do I have the honor of addressing Winston Pell?”

Winston cracked the slightest smile. “Expecting me?”

“Not at all—but your presence is a welcome surprise.” The fact was, Tessic had an entire staff of private detectives searching for Winston and Lourdes, and they had come up empty-handed. That Winston had just fallen