It’s been really hard coming down off the high I was on all weekend long.  Even though shit was going on at work that sent chills down my spine, I just couldn’t seem to dwell on it for long once we arrived in the Hamptons.  Abbey and I...we made this connection there.  It was like, she woke me up, made me want to be close to somebody for the first time in my life.  She showed me that I had to be the one to make the effort.  That I couldn’t compare myself to her dead boyfriend.  She wasn’t like the others.  Abbey was special, a different kind of woman, and I had to realize that.  I sat on that beach after she walked away from me and thought about that for a long time.  I knew...I wasn’t ready to say those words.  That I loved her.  Maybe I was starting to feel it, even though a big part of me was denying that fact.  I just wasn’t sure.  What I did realize was that I wanted to be closer to her after all.  I wanted to take care of her.

So I told her that.

And she’s letting me.

I conferenced Monday morning, while Abbey and Sydney took the kids down to the beach for one final run around.  It meant I was trapped in the study with Trace for over two hours.  He didn’t say much, and it was strange for him.  Usually during my Monday run through he makes it a point to talk for at least fifteen minutes about ‘upholding company policies’ and goes on to highlight everything that each department is fucking up.  I’ve always liked that.  It’s taken a lot of the pressure off of me, makes people think he’s more of a jerk than I am, which is saying a lot since I’m pretty much a tyrant.  I make my employees afraid.  They don’t dare speak up when I’m talking, and they never question a policy or procedure that I’ve laid down.  In the past few years I’ve fired people for less, and they know that.

But the most Trace talked about on Monday was boosting profit, and that was it.

It left the floor open to me, and I found that Trace was taking a lot of notes while I was talking and I wasn’t sure why.  I was only highlighting most of the shit that he would have said anyway.  He seemed nervous though, very uneasy.  Looking back on it now, I’m not even sure if he was writing about anything that had to do with the damn conference call.  That would probably anger me more, if I wasn’t so sure he’s been dicking me over for the past couple of years.  He’ll need all the notes he can when he gets his day in court.

Only, he’ll lose.  He’ll lose everything.

A couple of FBI agents had come to see me on Friday, but all they really told me was to sit tight while they conducted their investigation, and not to say anything to anybody about it.  That probably included Abbey too, but since I trust her with...everything in my life right now, I couldn’t hold it back.  She more than proved herself this weekend though.  She did a great job pretending that everything was the same as always, and didn’t treat Trace any differently than normal.  Not that it was hard for her to act that way, since she can’t stand him in the first place.

Tuesday morning, back at work, one of the agents was waiting for me beside Cheryl’s desk.  I quickly closed the door to my outer office, because Trace’s door was open, and he was on the phone, yakking away to some client of his. The last thing I wanted was for him to overhear the conversation that was about to take place.

“Mr. Timberlake.”  The agent stood up and shook my hand.  

Cheryl didn’t so much as glance at me, and I was thankful that she decided to mind her own business.  “Let’s talk inside,” I nodded as I returned his handshake firmly.  “Hold my calls,” I told Cheryl.

“Of course, sir.”

I led the way into my office, and made sure to close the door firmly behind me before offering the agent a seat at my desk.  I slowly made my way over to the windows once he sat down and stared out of them, terrified of what he was about to tell me.

“The evidence is more than circumstantial,” Agent Wilcox said softly.  “We’ve been monitoring the accounts, and...there was more money taken this weekend.  In total, about 1.5 million.  We’d like to take action, make an arrest.  The warrant has already been issued, Mr. Timberlake.  I just wanted to give you the benefit of being the first to know about this.  We discussed it, and didn’t want to cause anybody alarm by bursting in and hauling him away”

I sighed harshly and covered my mouth with my hand.  It angered me that he’d done it over the weekend, right under my nose, when we were all supposed to be enjoying ourselves.  “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

I turned, and gazed at him sternly.  “Then do it.”

He nodded briefly, and then called somebody on his cellphone.  Within minutes he walked out of my office, and I didn’t want to follow him.  It pained me deeply to see what was about to happen, but at the same time I couldn’t help myself.  I followed him slowly out into the hallway and stood inside my open doorway as Agent Wilcox, and a second agent made their way into Trace’s office.

There was a commotion for a few minutes.  I could hear him swearing.  Cheryl came up behind me at some point and asked what was going on.  I told her to hold on, that I would explain later...

And then there Trace was, being led out of his office in handcuffs.  Cheryl gasped and I just stared, not being able to believe what was happening before my eyes.

“Justin!” He yelled out to me as Agent Wilcox began to force him down the hallway. “Justin, I didn’t do this! You know I didn’t do this!”

I just stared at him as they forced him to the elevators.  I wouldn’t answer.  I couldn’t answer.

He kept yelling my name, over and over, panicked, like he didn’t know what the hell was going on.  But I knew what he did, I knew it all too well.

He was getting what he deserved.

I held an emergency board meeting right away.  Naturally my entire staff sat in silence, as I stared into space for several moments.  I was sure they thought I was going to fire them all.  When I was first promoted I did what I like to call a ‘clean sweep’ and fired about fifty people that in my opinion, were doing a shitty job.  I can’t lie, I was considering firing a few of them that day too. I was angry and paranoid enough, but I knew that it would be wrong.  I couldn’t afford it.  My best executive was gone, thief or not, and I needed people around me that knew what they were doing.  Especially considering clients were going to start calling to give us hell the moment the case broke to the media.  

“Alice.”  It was the first word I spoke.

Everybody slowly looked over at her.

She cowered in her seat.  “Y-yes sir.”

“I’ve decided to put a new policy into place.  Private accounts are no longer private. Alice, you will now be in charge of overseeing and doing weekly audits on all of them, and public accounts will be audited once a week versus once a month,” I announced.  “I suggest you all get your passwords together on one list and give them to her before the end of the day.  Those who do not comply will be fired.  I won’t tolerate another cheater in my company.”

Nobody said anything.

“Mr. Ayala is no longer with us.”  I sat up in my chair and folded my hands on top of the shiny granite desktop.  “I don’t need to explain why.  You’ll find out in the coming days.  I don’t want his named mentioned in my presence.  If you have an issue with any of his clients, see Alice, and she will report the issue to me.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

They said it in unison.  I just nodded, got up from my chair, and walked out on them all.  I’m sure they stayed behind, talked amongst themselves for several hours afterward.  I didn’t care.  I wasn’t about to involve myself in their gossip.  Trace was more than just an executive.  He was my business partner, and I knew once the media found out about his arrest, the whole thing was going to blow up in my face.  Where would I be then? Would I end up broke? Would my board get together and decide to overthrow me?  I had no idea.  It made me feel sick to my stomach...the thought of losing my integrity, my career.  Would I have to move back down south? Go back to the lifestyle I had loathed for so many years?

I threw up in the bathroom.  When five o’clock came around, and I decided to go home to talk to Abbey about it all, I walked right into a disaster.

“Mr. Timberlake!”

Flashes went off in my face, and microphones were shoved at me from every angle.  I could make out Quincy in the very back of the crowd, a sympathetic look on his face as I tried desperately to make my way over to the Escalade.

“Is it true your business partner has been arrested for fraud?”

“How will this effect the integrity of Goldmach Sachs?”

“Given your age do you think people will continue to take you seriously?”

“No comment!” I shouted at them, and pushed my way through the mass of reporters and photographers.  Quincy stuck out his hand as I neared the back of the crowd and pulled me through, blocking their access to me as I practically jumped into the back of my Escalade, thankful for the dark tinted windows and doors that locked all of them away.  I was safe...

But I knew that I wouldn’t be able to hide from them forever.

There were more reporters waiting outside my building when the car pulled up, and I was furious.  I made Quincy get out, talk to the doorman, try to get him to do something about them so I wouldn’t have to deal with it right then.  

“Sir, I’m sorry,” Quincy told me once he got back into the car.  “But they told me as long as they are on the city sidewalk, they can’t be made to leave.”

I sighed into my hands.  “It’s fine, Quincy.  Thanks.”  I sucked in a long breath, and threw my car door open.  Frank, my doorman was waiting for me, ready to escort me into the building.  He did a decent job keeping the reporters away from me, even though he’s not a very big guy.  The reporters shouted at me and snapped pictures as I walked to the door, but they weren’t able to stop me from getting inside.

Once I was in the elevator, I never wanted to go back out again.

“Justin!”

Davey threw his arms around me the second I stepped through the door, and it took everything inside of me to throw a smile on my face for him.  He was oblivious to everything that was happening, and that was good.  He was too young, and had been through too much to endure anymore stress.   I picked him up and ruffled his hair before giving him a long hug.

Then Abbey came into the room, wiping her hands with a dishrag.  “Hey.”

I put Davey down.  “Go on, go find Austin.”  I said to him softly and patted his shoulder so he would run off.  “Hey,” I said to her, once he was out of site.

“I...I saw the news,” she whispered as she made her way over to me.  “They arrested Trace?”

I just nodded.  

“A-are you okay?”

I shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I...don’t know what’s going to happen.  He was yelling at me when they took him away.  He said...he didn’t do it.”  

She took my hand in hers and looked down at it for a moment.  “Of course he would say that,” she whispered.  “You...you did the right thing.  I mean, who knows how much more money you would have lost if you didn’t catch on?”

“Yeah, yeah I guess.”  

I couldn’t say much.  I wanted to.  I wanted to tell her how upset I was, how sick I felt.  But I didn’t have the energy then.  I'd had a long, hard, emotional day and all I really wanted to do was fall asleep in her arms and forget it all.

“Justin, it’s okay,” she whispered and pulled me closer to her so she could wrap her arms around me and lay her head against my chest.  “It’s over.”

I kissed the top of her head, and breathed her in slowly.  “I think it’s just beginning, Ab.”

And I was right.

The press decided to camp out across the street from my building, and the moment I stepped outside the next day I knew they weren’t going to let myself or Abbey pass easily.  I didn’t want the boys to be shoved into the middle of the whole thing.  They weren’t a part of it, and I didn’t want them exposed to my career in that way.  I arranged for Abbey and the boys to leave the building down the fire stairs, so they could meet Quincy in the back and he could take them to school before dropping me off at the office.  Austin later told me it was cool.  He felt like a ‘secret agent.’  I was grateful.  It wasn’t affecting him, and I knew he was old enough to understand that something major was going on in my work life.  I guess having Abbey by his side helped him to calm down about it.  Davey didn’t say much.  He was smiling a lot though.  I know he was just happy to be with us, and excited that I was riding in the car with him each morning we took Austin to school.  Abbey was a trooper through it all.  She acted as normally as she possibly could for them, and for me.

I don’t know what I would have done without her those first couple of days.

I miss her.  I mean, it’s weird for me to be thinking this way, but it’s the truth.  My mind has been so overwhelmed with everything that the most I’ve been able to do lately is kiss her goodnight and fall asleep with her in my arms.  There hasn’t been much time for talking.  Now that Austin is back in school he has a lot to yap about at the end of the day, and since that gives Davey the incentive to speak up too, they’ve been taking up all of our free time.

I’m praying that after today, things will start to be a little bit more normal around the house.  After today I want to talk to Abbey at night about us, instead of work and the boys, the press, and how stressed out we both are. I want to feel her again, all over me.  I need her.

I miss having that physical interaction with her.  I’ve been spoiled I guess.  I’ve been trying to calm myself down, tell myself that it’s good we haven’t been as sexual lately.  I mean, she’s with me now.  We’re together.  I guess...I guess I can say that she’s my girlfriend.  That means our time together has to be about more than just sex.  I mean, it is.  

The sex is just...one of my favorite things about spending that time with her, as raunchy as that sounds.  I guess it’s because I’ve never been so passionate about somebody before.  I’ve never made love to a woman like I make love to her.

It means something.

Something more than I can even understand.

“You doing okay?”

Mac pats my back and I let out a harsh sigh as I take a seat in the middle of the courtroom.  I gave a press statement right before we were allowed to come inside.  It was short and to the point.  I basically told them all what Trace was being charged with, and I gave a formal apology to all of our clients.  I’m sure I’ll have about a thousand messages waiting for me when I get back to the office today.  I wish I could be there now, answering them, but Mac said it was important that I be here today.  He said it would show that I was standing behind the company.

But the thought of seeing Trace lead out in handcuffs has made me nauseated since I woke up this morning.

“I’ll be okay.”  I glance around the courtroom as I say it.  I spot Trump sitting across the room, and he acknowledges me quickly with a small nod and wink.  We spoke briefly on the phone Wednesday morning.  I wanted to let him know I was ready to take him up on his deal, even though chaos was ensuing in my business world.  He understood where I was coming from, said he was on my side and he would back me a hundred percent so I wouldn’t lose as many clients.  It feels good to have a friend in the business world, somebody I can trust.

But still, the smallest part of me misses the hell out of my best friend, and I have no idea why.  He betrayed me. Stabbed me in the back.   I shouldn’t care about him.  They told me he had to spend a few days in Rikers because the medium security holding center had no spot for him.  I shouldn’t care about how freaked out he probably was, jailed amongst murderers and the like.

But I still do, and I hate that.

The next person I notice is Trace of course.  He’s led out from a side entrance in the front of the courtroom by an officer, clothed in a bright orange prison suit, his wrists and ankles shackled together.  He shuffles slowly to his seat and is made to sit down next to his lawyer, and they immediately begin a whispered conversation.  His face is pale, his eyes bloodshot and sunken in, as if he hasn’t slept for days.  He’s terrified.  I can just tell.  I feel a pang of desperation surge through me, pleading with me, telling me something isn’t right...

But I have all the proof I need.  I shouldn’t feel this way.  I can’t.

“All rise,” the bailiff announces as the judge enters the courtroom and takes his position at his desk.  “The honorable Judge Walsh presiding.”

“You may be seated,” he says gruffly.

We all sit.  The room is silent.  I think everybody is waiting to see what happens next.  It’s a media spectacle.  More than half of the courtroom is comprised of cameramen, reporters, and photographers.  It should be fun trying to get out of here once this is all over with.

“What’s first Len?” The judge asks the bailiff with a strong sigh.

“Docket ending in 53398. People Vs. Trace Ayala.”  He hands over the paperwork to the judge as he says it.

The judge studies the documents briefly before moving his reading glasses down to the end of his nose and peering up Trace, as if something has suddenly struck him.  The smallest fragment of a smile appears on his face, and then vanishes.  “Charges?”

“Grand Larceny in the first degree.”

“Well, Mr. Ayala, we meet again,” Judge Walsh smirks.

I hear gasps all around.  Obviously, this isn’t the first time Trace has dealt with this judge, and all I can think is that everything Trump told me was the truth.  I stare at Trace’s backside.  He’s hanging his head low, waiting for the next, inevitable question.

“How do you plead?”

It takes a moment for him to answer.  The courtroom is completely silent.  You could hear a pin drop.  I feel myself begin to tremble.  

“Not guilty,” he croaks.

I shake my head sadly and pinch the bridge of my nose.  Fuck, why? Why? Can’t he just confess? He’ll never get away with this.  There’s too much evidence against him.  The feds made sure of that.  I recognize his lawyer.  He’s good, one of the most expensive in Manhattan.  I even considered using him before I was referred to Mac. Maybe Trace thinks the guy is his ticket out of jail.

But I seriously doubt it.

“The people request no bail your honor,” The District Attorney speaks up, smartly.  “Mr. Ayala has many means available to him, and we consider him a high flight risk at this time.”

“Your honor I don’t see that being necessary,” Trace’s lawyer huffs.  “An ankle bracelet would do just as well.  My client isn’t a murderer or a drug dealer.”

The judge leans forward, staring at Trace with a commanding look in his eyes.  “Given the high profile of this case, I feel it is in Mr. Ayala’s best interest to be remanded without bail at this time.”

I see Trace turn and desperately whisper something in his lawyers ear.

“Your honor,” Trace’s lawyer speaks up desperately.  “I implore you to see reason.  My client has a young child at home...”

“Who will do just as well with it’s mother,” Judge Walsh speaks over him.  “Next case.”

The judge slams the gavel down.

I watch as Trace turns around, and is pulled into Sydney’s arms who has been sitting directly behind him the whole time.  He can’t hug her back, so he sort of leans into her.  She kisses him, and he tells her that he’ll call her, before he’s forced to shuffle back through the entranceway again.  Right before he moves through the door he looks back over his shoulder, and his eyes immediately connect with mine.  He glares at me, like I’m the worst person in the entire world.

Sydney breaks down into a fit of sobs as soon as he disappears from view.   

I’m not thinking about her though.  I could care less about her.  I do feel bad for Kristy though.  I know how much she loves Trace and I seriously doubt that their home is the best place for a kid to be in right now.  But again, it’s not my issue.  I get up along with Mac, and we walk out of the courtroom among the throngs of spectators, and reporters.  Of course I’m asked to stop for questions from the press, which I politely decline.  I’m nearly out.  The media has been kept away from me by some very helpful members of the NYPD, and I start to think about Abbey and the boys back at home.  I can’t wait to be with them.

“Justin.”

I look to my left.  “Mr. Trump.”

He shakes my hand.  “Glad to see that this is going to be over with shortly.”

I nod a little as I peer into the distance, letting out a small sigh of relief when I see Quincy and the car waiting for me at the curbside.  “Yeah.  I mean, there’s going be a trial...”

“I’m willing to bet that lawyer of his will talk him into a plea bargain,” Trump chuckles.  “He’ll do three to five, and the world will have forgotten all about him by then.”

I just nod.  I can’t talk to him about it anymore.  It’s making me feel sick again.

“Monday...I’d like to join you in your office to talk about some things,” he tells me.  “My top architect would like to be there as well, to discuss some design ideas.”

“That sounds great.” I force a smile for him as we reach my car, and he shakes my hand one more time.  “My Monday conference is over by ten.  I can meet with you then.”

“Sounds good, sir.”  

He smiles once more for me and walks away.

“Trump huh?” Mac chuckles and pats my back.  “What will it be next, kid?”

I shake my head.  “I think this is enough for me to take on for now.  I’ll talk to you.”

He bids me goodbye and I get in the car, thankful when my head hits the leather interior and I can close my eyes.  The anxiety that’s taken over me since the early morning begins to fade slightly as Quincy pulls away.  Soon I’ll be back at work, faced with clients, meetings with my partners.

They’ll all be fighting over Trace’s position for the next few months.  It makes me cringe to think of all the ass kissing I’m going to have to put up with.

Shit, all I want is Abbey today.  She’s all I want right now.  I don’t want to deal with work, with the knowledge that Trace will never be right down the hall from me again.  I won’t have him to lean on.  The one who has built me up from nothing is gone.

Abbey is all I have now.

“Hey, Quincy,” I speak up, softly.

“Sir?”

“Can you take me home?”

We stop at a red light, and he takes the opportunity to look back at me over his shoulder.  “It’s only after three.  Are you sure about that?”

I laugh a little.  “Yeah, I think so.”

It’s a first for me.  I’ve never just...put work to the side like this for the sake of somebody else, or because...I needed somebody else more than the walls of my office to get me through the rest of the day.  Still, Quincy smiles at my request and when the light changes to green he makes it a point to turn the car around so he can head back to my penthouse.  I’ve never said anything to him about Abbey, but I can tell that he knows what’s going on.  He’s never protested though.  I can tell he likes her.  That he thinks she’s good for me.

I couldn’t agree with him more.

I call Cheryl and tell her that I’ll be out of contact until Monday.  She tells me not to worry about it.  She’ll forward the important calls to my cell phone, and I tell her that I’m fine with that.  When we pull up to my building, I see Abbey and the boys walking out.  I smile, push the door open, and get out of the car.  Austin is dressed in his soccer gear.  Shit, it’s his first game today and I completely forgot with everything else that’s been going on.  It’s a fluke that I thought to come home, and I’m so glad I did.  “Hey.”

“Hey...” Abbey says, the shock in her voice apparent when she meets my gaze.  “I...I didn’t think you’d make it.”

“You’re coming to my game?” Austin says as I reach the spot they’re all standing in.  His eyes are wide, as if he’s surprised that I’m here at all.

“Course I am, bud.”  I smile at him a little and ruffle his hair, before doing the same to Davey.  Then I’m finally able to reach her, and by the look on her face, I can tell that she knows exactly the kind of day I’ve had.  I pull her into my arms, and she hugs me...she hugs me so tight.  

“I saw you on the news this morning,” she whispers as I hold her in my arms.  “I know...that was hard for you.”

“He plead not guilty.  But...it doesn’t matter anymore,” I whisper gently, and pull back a little so I can look her in the eyes.  “I have you, and the boys. That’s...that’s all I care about right now.  Whatever happens, I’ll pull through it as long as I have you.”

She smiles a little bit, and kisses me gently on the lips.  “Are you sure that you want to come?  I already prepared Austin.  If you need the time for yourself...”

“I want this time for us,” I nod, cutting her speech short.  “Okay?”

She smirks a little.  “Okay.”

We pile back into the Escalade, and Quincy happily agrees to take us to Central Park for Austin’s game.  Austin even invites him to stay and watch, and he agrees, tells him he’d like nothing more.  It’s a happy moment during what’s been a very miserable day for me, and most likely for Abbey too.  I reach for her hand, and she laces her fingers through mine as she smiles softly and gazes into my eyes.  

I have the best girlfriend, and right now, that's the only thing that means something to me.