Chapter 90

Monday, July 23

I really don’t like Mondays. It takes six days to get over one and then you have to go through it all over again.

This Monday at least held the prospect of me seeing my girlfriend after being apart for basically five weeks. I just had to survive lunch with George Patterson and Dad first.

I got started on my day, getting enough breakfast to fuel me for the morning workout and yardwork. I arrived at the driving range in plenty of time to stretch as Coach Tucker and Coach Bennett hit range balls.

We did our running, snapping and huddling with little trouble. Before we broke up, I had a proposition for my teammates.

“Who wants to make $20?” I asked.

At least 30 hands shot up, including David and Willie’s oldest little brothers, Keri and Erin B., both coaches and a couple of club members who were also hitting range balls.

“Let me rephrase that,” I said with a laugh. “I need some help with the yardwork. I have to be done early enough to drive into the city for a lunch date.”

“Oh, hell no,” Coach Bennett said. “I’m still gettin’ over the last time I helped you do yardwork.”

The two girls shared a smile at that.

“But I’ll still take 20 bucks,” the offensive line coach said, holding out a hand.

Coach Tucker jumped in with a question.

“Who could you be having lunch with in the city that is worth making that kind of offer?” he asked.

“George Patterson, sir,” I said. “My dad’s also going to be there.”

“Somebody’s in trooouuubbbllleee,” Erin teased.

“No, just a business lunch,” I said. “I asked him for some investment advice.”

“Makes me want to tag along,” Coach Tucker said. “You could do much worse than getting advice from him. OK, let’s get this man some help with his yardwork. I’ve heard what Mr. Patterson tips you guys.”

The guys working at the pool this morning were out, obviously. By the time we eliminated guys with other commitments or a desire to avoid yardwork, I was left with Chuck, David, Lloyd, Quinton and David’s brother. I’d really only expected one or two guys to take the offer. I couldn’t decide if I should thank Coach Tucker for inspiring so many guys to help or bill him for the $60 I hadn’t planned on spending.

With that much help, we were able to get our upper-body lifting in and still make it to the house by 9:45. I handled the mowing with David’s little brother raking. The other high schoolers divided the edging, trimming, sweeping and bagging between them. With everybody pitching in, we managed to get it all done in less than an hour.

I went inside to get my wallet and made sure each guy had a cold drink as the heat started kicking in. Even at $20 a pop, it was cheaper than having the HOA crew do it. David’s little brother looked like he’d just hit the lottery when I handed him a Jackson. I probably would have reacted the same way when I was his age.

Thanks to their help, I was able to shower, dress and get on the road by 11 o’clock, even with the time required to get a tie properly knotted and shoot Dad and Mr. Patterson a text that I was on my way. I grabbed the blazer I’d worn for Staci’s Sweet 16, made sure I had wallet, keys and shades, locked up the house and hit the road.

I swung by the apartment to retrieve the package of cash, which rode in the passenger seat until I pulled into the parking garage at George Patterson’s office building. I had to go up to the fourth level before I found an open space that wasn’t reserved for someone, but stepped off the elevator into The Patterson Group’s reception area before the clock struck noon.

The receptionist buzzed Mr. Patterson and announced me, then told me to head on back. I was again impressed by the decor as I entered his office. At least I had an idea of what to expect this time.

The rich and powerful man rose from his desk and greeted me with a handshake, then took possession of the package.

“I think I have an idea of how parents feel when their child heads off for their first day of school,” I said. “I’m putting my future in someone else’s hands.”

“And we’ll try to help it grow and meet its potential,” Mr. Patterson said.

He put the package into a drawer of his desk, locked it and grabbed his suit jacket off the back of his oversized chair.

“Shall we?”

We covered the distance to the steakhouse and were led to a round table set for eight. I had no idea who other than Dad could be joining us.

I got a sinking feeling in my stomach when Meredith Metzger and Dr. and Mrs. Ensberry were shown back, followed shortly by Dad. The big surprise, though, was when Staci and Morgan arrived to fill the final two seats.

My girlfriend had ... blossomed. Sprouted. Transformed.

She had tits. And cleavage!

She was also noticeably taller and had gotten a radical haircut, now sporting a pixie cut instead of the shoulder-length do to which I was accustomed.

Both girls greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a giggle before taking their seats opposite me. I was between Mrs. Metzger and Dad. The Ensberrys were beyond Dad, while Mr. Patterson and Staci were on the other side of Mrs. Metzger.

The adults made small talk as the waiter brought pitchers of tea and took our orders. I again went with the New York strip, medium. It hadn’t done me wrong in my previous visits.

We were mostly done with our meals when Dad couldn’t take it anymore.

“So is there a point to this exercise other than to show that my son knows how to dress for such a fine establishment?” he asked.

“I’ve offered to bring Gary in on an investment opportunity,” Mr. Patterson said. “I figured some interested parties may like to know what’s going on, especially when things pay off for him.”

“It sounds like you’re on to something,” Mrs. Metzger said. “Care to share with the rest of the class?”

“Not at the risk of upsetting folks in Washington,” Mr. Patterson said. “But what I can do is put together an investment pool that The Patterson Group can add to what we’re already doing. You’d get the payoff without all the nosy government types poking into your dealings.”

“What kind of payoff are we talking about?” Dr. Ensberry said.

“It will, of course, depend on your level of involvement,” Mr. Patterson said. “In Gary’s case, not only would his college be covered by the end of this year, there will probably be enough to carry him through graduate school if he wished to go that route. If he decides to roll the proceeds over into some similar deals that are in the works and are also expected to perform well, it won’t matter what profession he chooses to pursue.

“In your case, Frank, I can give you a number that should be within your means that would allow you to quit your practice and play golf every day if that’s what you wanted.”

Dad’s fork clattered to his plate.

“Is this legal?” he asked.

“It is as long as I don’t tell you who and when and let you go off and make your own trades,” Mr. Patterson said. “It’s not insider trading for those of us already on the inside. I just thought you and Claire should be aware if your son suddenly starts outearning you.”

“Can you at least provide an example for comparison?” Mrs. Metzger asked.

“Remember the VariTech caper a few years back?” Mr. Patterson replied. “That would be the starting point. We expect this to be even bigger for those who get in on the ground floor.”

This time, it was Mrs. Metzger’s fork that clattered. She daintily wiped her mouth with her napkin and cleared her throat.

“Will 200 be sufficient?” she asked.

“It should,” Mr. Patterson said. “We’ve committed a little over 400.”

“Thousand?” Mrs. Ensberry asked.

“Million,” Mrs. Metzger replied.

I think every fork from Dad around to Staci clattered at that. Dad just stared at me.

“Looks like it’s time to get off the porch,” he said.

“I was hoping you could interest Hal in joining in,” Mr. Patterson said. “I know he’s always on the lookout for an opportunity.”

I didn’t realize Mr. Patterson was on such terms with Grandpa Robinson.

“I can if what you say is true,” Dad said. “My folks’ll be here Saturday for Kacie’s birthday. We can meet at the club, maybe even play golf together.”

“Why don’t we continue this discussion back at my office,” Mr. Patterson said. “We can let the young people go enjoy their day.”

“Actually, I’d like Gary to join us,” Dad said. “I’m sure the girls can amuse themselves for another hour.”

“I think that’s a very good idea,” Dr. Ensberry said, causing Morgan to blush.

Mr. Patterson grabbed the check when it came.