“You should really switch to a vape,” Henley says. “They’re better for you and you can vape anywhere.”
“It’s very psychologically important for me to control a flaming piece of paper,” I say.
“Where are Alistair and the father figure?” Henley asks me.
Actually, I have no idea where they are. It is a little strange that they aren’t here yet. I see them both so often at work. Maybe I am a little happy they aren’t here. I do get tired of them.
“They must be around somewhere,” I say.
All of a sudden I get a whole bunch of texts at once. The cell phone coverage out here is terrible. I look down at my phone (Henley has not yet put his away) and see that they are all about the Playqueen acquisition. Our lawyers are finding some obvious anomalies, but I am actually glad. I like knowing exactly how something is fucked-up.
I look at the headlines and then save all the messages, feeling the itch to work. I need to respond to them, but I haven’t seen my baby brother in… two years?
“Has it really been two years?” I ask him.
“You’ve been busy with Nylo and your kids. Last time I saw you, you were just coming off that ugly divorce from… Ben?”
“That’s right,” I say. “That’s his name.”
“Anyway, how does it feel to be free?”
“Terrible,” I say. “I don’t like freedom. Not for me, not for anybody. I am a natural-born authoritarian. People only truly thrive under iron laws that take away their dread.”
“Yes, well, you haven’t been to China.”
“Haven’t you been thriving over there?”
“Not exactly,” says Henley. “In fact, I might not be able to go back for a while. I may or may not have done something that may or may not mean that my very important and delicate life of ease is at risk in the glorious Middle Kingdom.”
“What did you do? Fuck some Party leader’s daughter?”
“Ha, definitely, many of them. But that doesn’t make anybody mad. Wiggling out of a marriage can be tricky, but luckily I am quite wiggly. No, I didn’t get into trouble with the state at all. It was more with what you might call a private organization.”
“Tell me what happened,” I say. “Gabriella is certain you need money. Do you need money?”
“Did she say that? I don’t know how she got that idea. No, what I need is a job. Someplace to hide out for a while. Something to hold my attention and chill me out.”
“Do you even speak Chinese?”
“Sure,” says Henley. “It’s not so hard to pick up, if you’re motivated by colossal loneliness. Plus, there are those Party leaders’ daughters, as you mentioned. Expats bum me out, so I’ve spent a lot of time in giant dim sum restaurants, listening to endless drunk conversations. Anyway, I’m safe now. How are you?”
“What do you mean you’re ‘safe now’?”
“Not in peril? Unmurdered? Not being threatened and blackmailed by bloodthirsty men in bad suits, certain that I have wronged them?”
I sigh, rolling my eyes.
“And if I give you a job this will help you somehow?”
“It won’t hurt,” says Henley. “Remember how we all used to work doing playtesting for Dad’s games during the summers? I always enjoyed that.”
“You never took it very seriously.”
“But I was always good at it,” he counters.
“Last time we spoke, you wouldn’t shut up about how the future was China.”
“The future is still China,” says Henley. “Do you have any idea how starved they are over there for diversions and games?”
“Anyway, I’m glad you’re back. And I’m sure the father figure will also be glad to see you.”
“Phoebe looks good,” says Henley with a wry grin. “Don’t you think? Better than when I last saw her. She certainly takes care of herself.”
“Stop,” I say. “Just stop.”
I stub out my cigarette and give Henley a long and lingering hug, until we are interrupted by shouts from downstairs. Alistair is here with presents for everyone. I always forget to bring bribes for children, but he always remembers. I guess because he doesn’t have any children himself and so he doesn’t quite hate them all yet.
Henley and I make our way back to the front entrance of Bernard’s house, where all of the kids are gathered. I even see Bernard finally pop his head in from a back room. He smiles at his wife. I look around for the mom who was just grinding on his dick and see her joggling some two-year-old who is entranced by the skinny man with the knapsack full of drones, board games, stuffed bears, Helping Hands action figures, and video game consoles.
“A lot of the children here are underprivileged,” Henley whispers in my ear. “Veritable urchins, lifted right from the streets of Long Island. Poor unfortunates. Phoebe told me that they are all going to one of those Evangelical churches now. They are learning how to be true Christians.”
“Yikes,” I say.
“It makes Phoebe happy, and I think Bernard likes making new friends,” says Henley. “Don’t you think?”
“Henley!” shrieks Alistair, running to hug our little brother. “Look at you!”
I take the opportunity to step outside and check my messages. I light up another cigarette, unconcerned now if anybody sees me. I am a little shocked that there aren’t any messages from our father. He seems to have disappeared completely. It’s at times like this that I almost wish he had remarried, just so we would have someone else to call in order to keep tabs on him.
Swiping from message to message, I learn it isn’t just the lawyers who are freaking out about Playqueen. Now some of the vice presidents are weighing in, convinced that acquiring the company will be a huge mistake on account
