felineflash
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Toujours dans mon coeur, Maman.
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Being
Sept 14, 2011 22:15:48 GMT -5
Post by felineflash on Sept 14, 2011 22:15:48 GMT -5
For those who are having a crappy week, a little prezzie.
Chapter 12 - A Little Victor with your Coffee
Chloe finished the last section of her grapefruit and poured herself a second cup of coffee. She wasn’t particularly comfortable eating breakfast alone in Victor’s house, but she’d been starving. I didn’t sleep that late. I know he’s not still talking to Victor, I just saw Victor a second ago. And he’s not in his room, and he’s not here. Great.
“Chloe, I trust you slept well,” Victor boomed behind her. She was deeply embarrassed that the old bastard had made her jump. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, uncharacteristically apologetic.
“I just…assumed I was alone.” Way to go Chloe! Yeah, that’s the way to stand up to him! Why don’t you apologize for drinking his coffee, too?
“Ah, yes, unfortunately Philip had some overseas business to take care of. He should be back shortly. In the meantime, I wonder if I might have a word with you in my office?”
Here it comes. Brace yourself. What could he possibly come up with to blame on me now? Global warming? She nodded slowly as she sipped her coffee. This is really good coffee. I’d much rather sit here and finish my cup, you old coot.
As if reading her mind, Victor suggested she bring her coffee with her. And so she did. Maybe I can have an unfortunate accident and spill it all over his desk. Oh, yeah…how’s that for payback?
Once inside Victor’s spacious office, he asked her to close the door, “Please, sit,” he gestured to a chair.
“I’d prefer to stand, thank you,” she replied icily.
“Chloe, I would much rather you sit. I’d like this conversation to be civilized.”
Civilized? Who was he kidding? But if he wanted her to sit, then fine, she would sit.
“Good. Now, then. I thought you’d like to know that I spoke to Brady early this morning.”
“Oh.” Brady. It still stung to hear his name and know that it was over. Dead and buried, over. “How is he?”
“Very well. He said to tell you ‘Hello’. He also made it abundantly clear to me, again, that you had nothing to do with his addiction. Whether that is true or not…”
“It is true.”
“May I finish?” He asked tightly. “Whether that is true or not, I will honor his wishes and treat you with respect. Now, I want to cut to the chase and get to the reason why I’ve asked you to speak to me.”
To kick me out again? “Well, please, Victor, feel free to continue,” she replied curtly.
“I wanted to speak to you about what went on between you and Philip last night. What I witnessed--”
“Victor, you didn’t witness anything,” she said hotly. “Philip was upset, and I was comforting him. Contrary to what you think of me, I am not some kind of succubus.”
“Chloe, if I may continue, I wasn’t implying that anything unseemly did happen between the two of you last night.” He sighed, and spread his hands on his desk, staring at the splayed fingers, “Chloe, I don’t particularly like you. I may not ever like you. And you don’t like me. But the fact of the matter is that Philip does like you. As you’re well aware, Philip’s been through a tremendous amount of pain and trauma--”
“And I have no intention of hurting him, Victor,” she said firmly.
“I’ve heard that before. But why don’t you let me continue? May I?”
“By all means,” she shrugged. What the hell are you up to?
“Philip’s been through so much…and this Hollingsworth mess has also taken its toll on him. I worry about him, Chloe. I worry a great deal,” he leveled those steely eyes at her.
“I do too, Victor,” she answered honestly.
“Well, we agree on something. Amazing. Chloe, I’m not going to ask what was going on last night, I know that Philip has his demons. For whatever reasons, he can’t or won’t confide in his mother or me, and I’m not aware of him opening up to Bo or Lucas. And I fear things may get worse before they get better with this business with John Black and Hollingsworth. What I am doing here,”
Finally. What are you doing here?
“Is offering you a truce. On one condition. You don’t hurt my son again.”
A truce? That stroke did some major damage. But I don’t even know…“Victor, I’m not even sure where I stand with Philip,” she told him honestly.
“You care about him, and he cares about you. I believe that’s fairly solid ground. I’m not, God forbid, asking you to marry him. Just look after him, be there for him. And keep him away from the Hollingsworth’s. Do you think you can do that, Chloe?”
“I…well, yes, I think I can, Victor.”
“Good then,” he rose, “a truce.” They shook hands. “Thank you, Chloe, I believe Philip should be back any minute. And Chloe, I would appreciate it if you don‘t mention our conversation to him,” he showed her out.
This is getting so weird. Wait…did he just tell me to keep Philip away from Morgan and Paul? What the hell? She walked back into the breakfast room to refill her coffee, and Philip walked in followed by Henderson.
“Hey, sorry you had to eat alone,” he touched her hand as he reached for the coffee pot.
“That’s OK,” she smiled.
“Sir, this was on the doorstep,” Henderson handed Philip an envelope and they exchanged a look, “I didn’t see who left it…”
“Thanks, Henderson,” Philip replied. He looked at the envelope carefully before he opened it.
“You OK? Philip?” It’s just a note. Probably a bill for the paper or something.
“Yeah, it’s just…weird,” he tore it open, “Oh, God.”
Chapter 13 - Patch and Peg Leg
“Philip, what is it?” Chloe asked, staring at Philip as the blood drained from his face. He didn’t answer, so she came around and looked over his shoulder at the contents of the envelope. A picture of Tyler, and a note, handwritten in block letters, on grey stationary. The kind used for a funeral announcement. It said, simply, “He’s a cute kid.” She shuddered. “Do the Wilkins have a strange sense of humor?”
“No,” he mumbled. “No, they do not.” Philip was accustomed to receiving pictures of Tyler and often his works of art from Ruth and Wayne, who had legally adopted him six months before. Since they’d moved away, they’d stayed in touch through emails and letters. But never something like this. This was not from the Wilkins. John. What’s he done to him? Oh, God. “I need to make some phone calls, will you be OK?”
“Of course, go on,” she watched him leave the room. He’s worried. This is bad, this is very bad.
After calling Ruth and Wayne and explaining the situation in a way that he hoped didn’t scare the hell out of them, Philip called their local police department and ordered a protective detail on their home and Tyler. He threw around the Kiriakis name and some Kiriakis money until he felt more comfortable with the situation. OK, John, what are you up to? Why are you threatening my son? He paced around his office for a few minutes, patting his leg rhythmically. Which of his guys was the right one for this job? He already had two on John, and they hadn’t picked anything up. None of my guys is right for this. But fortunately, the one guy who is just so happens to be in this line of work. He located the phone number and dialed.
“Chloe?” He called out as he prepared to leave.
“Did you find out anything?” She asked worriedly from the steps.
“I told Wayne what’s going on, and I got a detail on Tyler. Look, I need to go out…”
“Philip, I know you’re worried--” If anything happens to Tyler, he’ll be destroyed.
“I’ve done everything I can from here. But I think I know the right guy to get to the bottom of this. I’m going over to see Steve Johnson. I’ll see you for dinner tonight? You are staying, right?” He asked, taking her into his arms.
“Dinner, yes. Staying…at least for tonight. I’m not sure about any longer.” Although now that Victor’s given me carte blanche, why not? “Philip, I have a feeling he’ll be alright…”
He nodded gravely. “I hope so. We’ll talk tonight.” Right now, I’ve got to talk to Steve. I’ve got to know what kind of game John’s playing.
“Steve,” Philip greeted as Steve opened his apartment door.
“Philip,” Steve mocked, gesturing for him to come in. “What’s this about?”
“Is Kayla here?”
“No, she’s at Alice’s with Joe. You gonna tell me what this is about or do I have to guess?”
Philip sat down on the couch. You could do with some manners and offer a guy a seat. “I want to hire you. I need your services.”
“Woah…no. Hell no,” Steve looked flabbergasted. “No way, no how. I gave up working for Kiriakis money a long time ago.”
“Steve, come on, man. I need a private investigator--”
“And you have about a dozen on retainer. Doesn’t Daddy share with his Mini-Me? Hear this, Philip, Steven Earl Johnson does not work for a Kiriakis. Got it, dude?” He was striding towards the door.
“Steve, hear me out. It’s about Pocket--”
“Pocket?” Steve’s face softened and he took his hand off the doorknob. “What’s going on with the little dude?” Then his eye narrowed, “What did you do?” He growled.
Philip pulled the envelope and its contents, now in a zip locked bag, out of his inner pocket. “This was on my doorstep this morning. I don’t know who put it there, or who it’s from.”
“And you’re sure it’s not from Ruth and Wayne?” Steve asked worriedly, turning the bag over in his hands.
“Positive. I’ve been in touch with them. I called Wayne and told him about…this situation…at least, as much as I could without scaring him to death. And I called the local PD, got a security detail on Tyler and the Wilkins’ home.”
“Good thinking, kid. So why do you need me?” He handed the bag back to Philip.
“I think John’s behind this, but I need to know. I need you on this case, Steve. I know how much you care about Ty--Pocket. Come on, Patch…can’t we bury the hatchet? You saved my life in that plane crash--”
“You were not the only person on that plane, kid. A lot of people I love were on that plane. I didn’t do what I did for you--”
“That’s not what I meant. I just…come on, Patch.” Please, please do this. I know you can do this. Dad always said you were very impressive.
“On one condition.” Steve stood.
“Name it.” Yes! If anyone can get to the bottom of this, it’s Steve.
“You have to tell me everything, and I mean everything, dude. I have to know exactly what went down with you and John and this whole dock war business. Otherwise, you’re on your own,” Steve stared at him. Daring him.
“Fine. I’ll tell you everything.” Everything. It’s time. Especially if my son’s in danger.
“Good, let’s go,” he strode to the door and held it open.
“Go…where?” Philip rose.
“My office. I don’t want to do this around Kayla.” With that, he pulled out his phone and dialed. “Hey, Sweetness, how’s our little dude? Good. Look, I’ve got a meeting down at the Heart. Yeah, it’s business. Will do. Love you, Sweetness.” He gestured for Philip to exit.
“The Cheatin’ Heart? I thought your office was the pub,” Philip chuckled.
“What, I’m not hoity-toity enough to have two? You play pool?”
“Yes, but…” This is about my son, you idiot.
“Good. You talk, I listen, we find out what’s going on with Pocket, and if you beat me, I won’t charge you,” he sauntered towards the elevators. “You coming, Peg Leg?”
Philip clenched his teeth. Peg Leg? Are you kidding me? I just hired…
“Another thing,” Steve faced him as he reached the elevator, “you don’t call me Patch, I won’t call you Peg Leg. How’s that for a deal?” He grinned.
“It’s a done deal,” Philip grinned in return. This is going to be some ride.
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