Chapter 07 – Take On Me
***The Acura***
Chase drove his TLX back from El Viento Securities.
The meeting bled into his afternoon, turning a quick lunch break into a strategic absence.
After exiting his car, Chase found himself between Michael & Cole and Summers Brew. Bumping into senior partner Geoffrey Wagner on the sidewalk wasn’t part of his lunch plans.
“Wright,” Geoffrey said, checking his watch. “Long lunch? I hope you were billing the hours.”
“Client relations,” Chase replied.
“Good man. Speaking of relations, we’re trying to smooth out some complications with our largest client.” Geoffrey glanced toward the coffee shop window. “Think anyone in there has a pulse and a tolerance for paperwork?”
Through the glass, Tabitha stood behind the counter, dressed in her signature black. Already plotting a witty obituary for the next person who ordered a decaf soy latte.
“You should definitely ask the barista,” Chase said. “The one with the dark clothes and serious face. She has a deep, spiritual respect for authority. I bet she’d jump at a corporate benefits package and the chance to file memos.”
Geoffrey nodded soberly. “We just need someone who doesn’t spend all day on Youtube and Reddit. I’ll leave some literature.”
Chase watched as the partner pushed inside, armed with a stack of glossy Secure Your Future flyers. Tabitha looked up. Her boredom vanished, replaced by a stare that could draw blood.
Don’t touch the sweetener, Registrar, he thought. I know how much you hate artificial things.
***The Law Offices of Michael & Cole***
When Chase reached his desk, the afternoon had settled into its typical Monday face—phones ringing half-heartedly and printers jamming in protest.
He opened his inbox to find a parade of identical subject lines, but one at the bottom caught his eye. An internal memo regarding the termination of an associate named Gunther W.
The reason was listed as “Gross Breach of Fiduciary Duty,” but the context was stranger.
Gunther had been lead counsel on a case against the Mayor’s office and had allegedly begun channeling documents to the defense. Upon confrontation, the associate claimed he’d witnessed ‘undeniable evidence’ of supernatural coercion within the city government, tied to El Viento interests. The firm called it a delusion.
Chase stared at the word “delusion” until it blurred into the blue glow of the monitor. He knew how the firm handled those that bit the hand that fed them.
They disappeared.
***El Viento Tower***
Vincenzo’s office sat silent as he wound down his private session, blue glow from his monitor dimming and the silence filled the studio.
His assistant, Tori, poked her head in, checking her tablet.
“The board liked the new VIM venture,” she said.
“The family loves new ways of managing the public’s attention,” Vincenzo replied, spinning slowly in his chair.
Tori hesitated in the doorway. “You’re sure about pushing Wright toward the camera? He’s… hesitant.”
“Chase has spent his whole life trying to be the good guy in a room full of people who already sold their souls,” Vincenzo said, looking at a darkened monitor.
“He’s going to burn out, Tori. Quietly and honorably. And he’ll call it character. Not even realizing he’s a self-made man.”
He leaned back, images of Chase and Amelia on screen.
“Did you know he didn’t even go to a law school? Everyone assumes he did, and he lets them. He taught himself. Online courses, open-source materials, forums. Built that degree sideways. Wright didn’t reject the game; he wanted to play it his own way. That kind of tenacity is dangerous if you leave it unguided.”
Vincenzo smiled. He remembered the friction of the gym floor during a high school wrestling match. The tip of his thumb flicking the underside of his ring.
“It’s endearing. We just need to steer him toward the life he’s too proud to see. Once he realizes he can lift the weight off Amelia’s shoulders, he’ll do the math. And he won’t even know I’m the one who gave him the push.”
Vincenzo gazed at the frozen frame, first pale light of dawn crept across the skyline. Chase’s sharp hands slicing the air, Amelia’s easy laugh, the way the two of them fit without trying.
“I’m unlocking easy-mode for you,” he whispered.
***Wright at Home***
Gunther’s disappearance lingered in Chase’s mind long after he left the office. By Tuesday at 5:00 a.m, sleep was no longer an option. The microwave warmed over a mug of yesterday’s coffee.
He sat by the window, watching the city breathe, his mind drifting back to a study room at Orangeside Community College. The smell of prop gunpowder and the weight of a fake gun in his hand.
They had staged a ‘shooting’ to trick a nosy Dean—a layered gambit to cover for one of Chase’s made-up classes. It was supposed to be a lesson on conspiracy theories. But he remembered the part that wasn’t in the script.
Amelia, standing among their ‘dead’ friends with tears that looked far too real. “But Chase,” she had cried, “I only did it because I love you!”
She’d claimed it was just improvisation later, a brilliant bit of acting to sell the con.
But Chase had seen her face, he made a joke, deflected, and spent the rest of his time at college maintaining a respectable distance.
The glow of the screen on his face, cursor blinking in a text field. He couldn’t run this time.
‘Wednesday’s still on?’ he sent. Swallowing after realizing the time.
The reply came back quick.
‘Up late too? Or is it early? Noon. I’ve already made an agenda. We have a lot of GROUND to cover.’
Chase smiled, the word “deal” hanging in the quiet of his apartment. Outside, the dawn began to roll over the skyline.