Chapter 18

“Mom, you don’t get to dictate what Akemi and I do with our own company,” Bea said.

Mom, who was Lauren Hawthorne, esq. was sitting next to her husband Ambrose Hawthorne IV esq., also known as Andy, behind a heavy conference table in a library. The table itself had inlaid woods in patterns around the table, along with scuffs, and spots that had been worn by use over what must have been decades. The chairs were sturdy, their seats covered in a dark leather attached to the wood with brass tacks.

Bea sat on the other side of the table with her arms folded across her chest. She was flanked with Akemi on her left and Eitan on her right. Both of her bare arms bore ugly scratches, along with one angry red one across her upper chest.

“The lawsuit had to be filed by 5:00pm yesterday or we would have had no standing,” Bea said. “The nano protest was supposed to be in front of City Hall, a block down and a block over. We could not have known the mob would move up the street to the courthouse.”

“We are concerned,” Mr. Hawthorne said with his deep bass voice. “Ever since you and Akemi formed this consultancy, you have been taking bigger and bigger risks. You could have let it go and found another avenue.”

Eitan glanced at Akemi, whose face was a complete blank. Only her eyes were moving, scanning the faces across the table. Whatever she was thinking, Eitan was not privy to it.

Bea put her hands on the table. “I consulted you first, daddy. The Department of Energy set the rules and the court backed them up. There was no other avenue. This is a $27 million contract that they are trying to limit to a no-bid non-competition. Our clients were deliberately shut out and it should be ours.”

“You put Leslie in danger,” Mrs. Hawthorne said. “She is down the hall in her bed, suffering in pain over a stupid filing.”

“Leslie insisted on coming with us, mom,” Bea said. “It made sense to come downtown from the upper West Side, since we were going to Grand Central afterward. It’s faster. Besides, it is only a ‘stupid’ filing because it’s mine and it’s not yours.”

“You don’t talk to me that way,” Mrs. Hawthorne said. “I am still your mother.”

Akemi yawned, drawing everyone to face her. She looked back at all of them. “Are we done with all of the posturing yet?” she asked. “You love your daughters, and your daughters love you. Circumstances beyond our control escalated, and despite our best efforts to get away from it, we were attacked without provocation. As of this morning, the streets of Manhattan are heavily patrolled and the counts of assault, rape, and murder from yesterday is still rising. Many innocent people were caught up in the mayhem.

“If the three of you are done venting, there are a number of pressing issues to discuss.”

Mrs. Hawthorne turned red in the face. Even her ears began to glow red, much to Eitan’s amusement. Mr. Hawthorne placed his hand on his wife’s arm, drawing her attention to him. He shook his head; she dropped her face with acquiescence. Eitan was fascinated by the display, following all of it with rapt attention.

Mrs. Hawthorne turned to Akemi. “You are a cold one,” she said. “What does Leslie see in you?”

Eitan cleared his throat loudly, preempting Akemi from responding with a sharp and regrettable retort. “Goading Akemi is a useless game, Mrs. Hawthorne,” he said. “Whatever you can say is a pebble compared to the mountain she endured before she came to our family. Please, can we move forward on the agenda.”

Both Hawthorne parents looked at Eitan as if they were laying eyes upon him for the first time. They reminded him of vultures circling overhead, waiting for their not-quite-dead prey below. He sat up straighter in his chair, gazing back at them with a coolness he did not possess. Mr. Hawthorne lifted his hand from his wife’s arm and reached for a yellow pad in front of him.

“The two of you are as frustrating as Jeremy Hobart, without the charm,” Mr. Hawthorne said. He proceeded to read a list of seven items, of which four had nothing to do with Eitan, and two more took him by surprise. He restrained himself from snarking at Akemi with a “thanks for the heads up” because he knew it was childish. He felt like a child too, sitting at the big table with the adults.

Eitan had assumed the intricacies of Akemi’s and Bea’s business were of no interest. As the three attorneys and Akemi discussed the first four items on the list, he was taken aback by the audacity of what they had conceived as a business plan. The lawsuit against the DOE concerning a $27 million contract for nano sourcing inventory was only one project, and it was not the largest.

The conversation began to lengthen. Eitan was starting to zone out amid the drone of conversation when the room suddenly went silent. He perked up, taking note of everyone scribbling furiously on their yellow pads. Mr. Hawthorne put down his pen and looked over at Eitan, pausing to evaluate him again. Eitan refused to squirm.

“Eitan,” Mr. Hawthorne said, “Do you have your cell on your person?” When Eitan held it up, Mr. Hawthorne continued, “I want you to send me $10 by digital pay service to retain my services as your attorney.”

Eitan gave a slight glance to Akemi who was rolling her eyes. “Pardon my ignorance, why do I need your legal services at this time?”

The man shook his head as if he was disgusted.

“Knock it off, dad,” Bea said. “You don’t have to be an asshole just because he got dumped in your precious Fortress of Solitude.” She turned to Eitan. “You need an attorney to form an LLC in Delaware for your new business.”

“Oh,” Eitan said with a touch of wonderment. “I assume this is Akemi’s idea after our conversation last night. Since I am such a sore spot for your father, why can’t I just use you?”

“Because I will be registered as treasurer,” Bea said. “You will be chair of the board and Akemi will be secretary. We need an outside attorney to file.”

“I think the idea is great,” Eitan said, trying to judge the outcome, “but as a student of Yale, I am loath to hire any graduate of Brown University.”

“Now, just a good, goddamn minute. No one insults my alma mater unless they have one helluva reason for it,” Mr. Hawthorne yelled at Eitan. “Absurd. Where the hell did that come from?”

“Ditto,” Eitan said, glaring back at the man.

Mrs. Hawthorne gave a quiet chuckle. “I think you’ve been played, dear. We have made a tactical error, assuming that these two are another set of average over-achieving college students.” She took in Akemi and Eitan with one sweep. “You’re probably masquerading as college level students when all is said and done. You are Jeremy Hobart’s most audacious creations, aren’t you?”