Under the entangled limbs of the ancient and graceful Trees of Heaven, Brian Abernathy
throttled his broken down pick-up over the gently curving lane toward the top of Hideaway
Hill. Only a few of the century-old mansions on ten acre lots had been razed to give way
to modern sprawling homes reaching into the clouds. The gothic bricks on others still
clung tightly to the framework.
Gardeners labored under the soft sunshine of spring, their trucks laden with freshly
chopped mulch, young trees and propagated perennials. One of Brian’s competitors nodded
as he drove by, tossed his head and sniffed.
“Move over boys,” Brian whispered with a laugh. “The Boss is back in town.”
Another quarter mile down the boulevard, he turned into the driveway where a stately old
gentleman lingered in the shade of his home, waiting. Quickly, the old man turned; he
watched intently as Brian gathered up a laptop and swung the door closed. He smiled
broadly as Brian approached, Brian’s gait unmistakable.
“How the hell are ya, JD?” Brian asked happily with his hand outstretched.
Heartily, JD grasped it and pulled Brian in. “Damnit, I knew that was you on the
television,” he declared, grinning happily. “Helena said I was full of shit, but I knew
that was you. Brian Abernathy. Where the hell have you been the last ten years?”
Genuinely flattered, Brian smiled as he took the chair next to JD’s. “Long story John.
I’ve been kinda hiding out with one incredible woman.”
“I figured that,” the old man teased as he looked over the neighbor’s kid, the bits of
dirt and twigs clung to the filthy clothes. “But what the hell are you doing working,
son? I mean...you’re an accountant...a business man. You’re going to inherit the Throne
of Abernathy Acquisitions.”
“I’m still an accountant, John. I’m still a business man. But Abernathy Acquisitions is
someone else’s fate,” he knew, as he peered across the street to the mansion that was his
childhood home.
“You’re a Harvard graduate,” John reminded.
“I’m also a landscape architect, my friend.” To explain the manner of his dress, Brian
offered, “Unfortunately, my crews don’t know how to build stone bridges over streams so I
get to help out. And I love it, John. I’d much rather shovel shit than ledgers.”
Incredible. Impossible, yet here he was...Brian Abernathy! “What are you drinking?” the
old man asked.
“I’ll drink a beer with you,” Brian said with a smile.
JD snapped his fingers and a man very nearly his age came hurriedly. The order was
given, yet John’s attention stayed with Brian.
“How are your parents?”
Dismally, Brian looked into the sagging eyes of a very old wealthy man. “I don’t know.
When I dropped out, I dropped out. I haven’t seen the old man for almost ten years. I
try to keep better tabs on my mom, but most of the time when I call or stop in, she’s not
even in the country. I can’t say I blame her, John. My father is a pain in the ass, you
know that.”
Sadly, JD nodded. But there was more to the story than Brian realized. Much much more
to the Abernathys, especially Brian’s father who was raised by a psychopath, whose great
grandfather was the President of the United States. Rather than dwell on it, he
continued, “Brian Alexander? I swear that’s what they said on TV?”
“Yeah,” he grinned and then swilled the beer. “I’ve found that changing your name is
just as effective as a team of body guards. I can move through the world virtually
unnoticed, do what I do and then go home to my woman. Even she doesn’t know who I really
am.”
“What the hell are you doing for money, boy? I know your father cut you off the day you
walked out on him.”
“What the hell do I really need, John? I live on a gorgeous estate out in the country.
I got food, sex, a bed to sleep in and sometimes an orgy goes on there. I’ve been back to
school to learn the finer points of what I do now. Besides, I’ve played on the Riviera,
fucked all the Princesses, gambled in all the casinos, bullshitted with all the
bullshitters, partied until my head throbbed. And when I get done taking your money
today, I’m gonna go home and get laid and have dinner in bed. What the hell more could a
man want?” With a delighted leer, he finished by saying, “I’m trying to convince her to
marry me, but uhh...hell, we’ll get there.”
“And Abernathy Acquisitions holds no interest for you?”
“Absolutely none.” Brian’s vision traveled away from his childhood neighbor back to the
Abernathy Mansion where some of the best days of his life were spent. A few of the worst
ones happened there, too. “I can’t go through my life like that,” he said sadly.
“Sitting in the middle of four walls all day, ruining people’s lives. It’s criminal.”
“We’re all criminals, Brian. We wouldn’t be living up here if we weren’t.”
Full of sadness, Brian drew in a deep breath remembering the day he sat at his desk at
Abernathy Acquisitions drawing up the papers for a leveraged buyout of a corporation his
father wanted. Just as he was about to finish, the call came to put them on hold because
the CEO of the corporation had just committed suicide.
Idly, Brian raked through his soft brown hair just long enough to curl a little at the
ends. “Well, I realized a lot of years ago there isn’t that much I need in this life. A
good beer, a lot of sunshine and Morgan.”
“Morgan, huh?”
Brian reached into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. He opened it and handed it to
JD. “Oh my,” JD gasped to see a picture of them together, Brian’s arm firmly around her
broad shoulder, the color of bronze flowing from the crown of her head. Startling green
eyes, a lush lower lip shimmering in the shade of her hair. A narrow nose and high
cheekbones.
“That is a beautiful woman,” he murmured softly stating the indisputable truth even as
he spied the layers of credit cards, and turned it just enough to see it was stuffed with
cash.
“Yes, she is, my friend. And she’s encouraged me to do what feels good. I decided when
I was twelve standing in the midst of the gardens at Versailles I was going to do that for
a living. And here I am,” Brian said happily, grateful to be talking to someone he knew.
Someone he often thought of as a grandfather.
“And I’m gonna make your place look just as good. Problem is, you’re gonna have to
remodel your house to go with your gardens.”
That wasn’t exactly a problem. JD was more interested in the woman who could capture
Brian’s attention and keep him from home for ten years. A prostitute who used to work for
him. “What does she do for a living?” JD asked.
Brian’s gaze locked onto the old man with a salacious grin. “She’s a sex therapist.
More on the surrogate end of it although she rarely has sex with them.”
The old man choked on his own tongue. “Not what I expected to hear.”
“You’d have to meet her to know what I’m talking about. She has a hard-on for
wife-beaters and believe it or not, she’s had quite a bit of success. Gives ‘em a taste
of their own medicine. I’m liable to bring her by sometime.”
“When will that be?”
Saddened by that, Brian looked away. “I don’t know,” he replied because Morgan was
terribly content with the way things were. Only he wanted to get married. But hiding out
with Morgan, away from cameras, body guards, and the attention the world wanted to lavish
on him had been the best ten years of his life. “She uhh...she doesn’t know who I am. I
can’t sit here and claim to be proud of being an Abernathy anyway.”
JD reached out and clutched Brian’s muscular forearm for a little hug. He understood
well that things had never been easy in the Abernathy home. Too much money, too much
attention and prestige. Brian’s grandfather, who had been raised in the White House, ran
the family business like it was an avenging army that takes no prisoners, only assets.
Brian’s grandfather ran the family home as if it were a military encampment and raised his
sons as soldiers.
But to dwell on what was past was futile and the old man asked, “How the hell did you end
up on TV?”
“I’ve been working with the local horticultural societies for awhile now. Trying to
figure out how to get rid of the transplanted species like those Chinese elms that are so
prolific they choke out the natural species. A guy in California heard about me and came
here to find out what we’re doing. I took him on a tour of our gardens and the next thing
I knew they were sending the cameras in.”
“They were beautiful,” John whispered.
“Thanks,” Brian whispered. “And I know you well enough to know you want something no one
else has.”
“Damn right, son. I don’t travel the world anymore, either. So you can bring the world
to me.”
Gently, Brian smiled. “How much money you got?”
A grin stretched the old man’s thin colorless lips wide. “Still an Abernathy at heart, I
see.”
“But when you talk about me...and you will, the name is Brian Alexander.”
Filled with affection, the old man nodded as he stretched out his arm. “C’mon. Let’s
take a look at what you got to work with.”
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