Rather Than to Be

An excerpt from my Greensboro fiction project.

The sunlight crept across Tristan’s rich, brown skin, freshly tanned from last week’s session. She wore little shaded goggles then to shield her eyes, but now in the unlit room on the third floor of the Biltmore Hotel in Downtown Gate City she shielded her eyes with her hand.

Nathan sat on the sill in front of the original large windows restored when preservationists came up with a plan to save the hotel from demolition and another Marty Carroll apartment project. Nathan was technically “at lunch” but had told his wife he would be at his city office returning constituent phone calls all afternoon. Tristan, also technically “at lunch”, had cleared the deck and asked Jenae to pencil her in as “researching property sales” related to Project X.

“I think it went well, too, Randall,” Nathan was saying. “Yes, yes, I feel that way as well. The pitch was excellent. I could see a lot of raised eyebrows when the total cost was discussed but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. We’ve just got to sell the larger vision and not get bogged down in the weeds.”

He says that a lot, Tristan thought—not get bogged down in the weeds—he’s such a good salesman. It’s too bad what happened to him at Proximity Capital. It’s so easy for him to get reelected in that district, but almost impossible for him to find a good corporate job.

“Thanks again, Randall. You give Anne my best,” Nathan was wrapping up. “Yes, absolutely if I decide to run I’ll give you a call. First thing.”

Nathan sat his phone aside and stared out across Elm Street. The sun fell across his furrowed brow and he let a deep sigh.

“Just how are Mr. and Mrs. Weaver?” Tristan asked. “How did the presentation go over?”

“About as we expected,” Nathan said. “The pitch was well done. The concept is viable. People are just worried about the economy. About jobs. About selling this idea when so many people are struggling.”

Nathan rose and tucked in his shirttail and fixed his belt.

“Are you in a hurry?” she asked.

“Nah, I’ve got the rest of the day. I might meet Sam at Europa before I go home. Otherwise?”

“Otherwise I was hoping we could talk for awhile about the thing I mentioned in Nashville?”

“What, with April?”

“You said you had a formula for using the media?”

“You really are serious? My goodness, what did April do to you?”

“She’s just in my way. She’s condescending and overbearing and I want that job. That’s all. Nothing personal.”

Tristan rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed with her back to Nathan.

“I want it done,” she said.

Nathan crawled across the bed and rested just behind her, running the back of his nails softly across her shoulder blade.

“Ok, get dressed and we’ll talk.”

Tristan walked to the bathroom as he continued.

“What you need, what’s absolutely critical is to find a weakness, a type of flaw. Something we can use against her, push her into a mistake that can be documented or highlighted.”

“Such as?”

“Well, short of a moral failure like a DUI or being found in bed with a dead stripper—wait that’s just for men—,” Nathan paused. “Short of that, a document, or an email. Something where she violated policy or betrayed trust.”

“Like leaking information to the press?”

“Yeah but that’s kind of complicated. Everybody uses the paper and unless you can set someone against the paper, there’s no real payoff.”

“What if she was leaking stuff to Jack Helms?”

“At the Examiner? Now that would be something. Why would she do that?”

“Well, Nathan Melfi, Gate City insider, they used to date, back in college. They both went to Duke at the same time.”

“Jesus, so that’s where he gets his stuff. Everybody in town has been wondering how he pulls scoops left and right. No kidding?”

Tristan came back into the room, her silk blouse tucked neatly into her wool skirt. She fixed her earrings as she walked toward the window.

“He’s only been in town two years. You don’t think he has magic powers or something do you? It’s always someone on the inside. You know that.”

“He cost Sam a ton of money with that story about the parking deck financing,” Nathan said. “And Ed Bryan is none too happy with them ever since he made them look incompetent with the brownfield project. Man, that all makes sense now. Can you document it?”

“As you said, short of catching them in bed together … I think the past is water under the bridge. But I have an idea.”