Daniel Annechino - Hypocrisy

“Okay. Okay. I’m leaving.”

Dupree hopped in her car and squealed her tires as she pulled away from the curb, her mind flooded with jumbled thoughts and inexplicable feelings. Just before she reached the airport exit, she pulled to the curb, tears streaming down her cheeks, blurring her vision. She picked up the manila envelope and tore it open. Inside she found a high school graduation photograph of Ashley. In the lower right hand corner, Ashley had signed the photo.

To Mom with love ,

Ashley .

Dupree could no longer fight the inevitable. She covered her face with both hands and wept like a lost child.

When Dupree heard the gentle knock, she knew it was T.J. After she’d arrived home, long after there were no more tears to cry, she’d called him and asked him to come over.

She opened the door. Before he could even step inside, Dupree hugged him. “I owe you, T.J. Owe you big time.”

“All in a day’s work, partner.”

They sat next to each other on the sofa.

“How long have you been working on finding my daughter?”

“Ever since you told me your story.”

“How the hell did you do this?”

“I told you. I know people who know people. That’s all I can say.”

Dupree wanted to push it, but let it go. For now. “She’s only been gone for two hours and already my heart aches.”

“Did you both enjoy the weekend?”

“It was amazing, T.J. It didn’t feel like we’d just met. We immediately connected and I felt Ashley was completely at ease.” Dupree took in a deep, quivering breath.

“What is it,” T.J. asked.

“Ashley lives three-thousand-miles away.”

“So you think you’re rarely going to see her?”

“Logistically, it’s complicated. She’s starting her freshman year at UCLA, my time off is limited, and…”

T.J. reached for her hand and gently squeezed it.

“It isn’t like either of us can just hop in the car and pop over. You found my daughter, but I’m afraid I’m going to lose her again. And this time it’s going to be even more painful.”

“You haven’t taken even one day off since we became partners, so you must have quite a few vacation days in the bank.”

“Last time I checked, I had about thirty-two days.”

“So, that’s six weeks plus, right?”

She nodded.

“If my math is correct, that means you can visit Ashley for one week every other month.”

“Technically, yes. But you’re forgetting two things. First, you know how stingy Captain Jensen is when it comes to approving time off. You’d think that the money was coming out of his personal banking account. Second, Wells is retiring in a few weeks, which puts us a man short, so, needless to say—”

“It’s handled,” T.J. said.

“What’s handled?”

“Wells’s replacement starts on Monday. Some hot shot kid from the 34 th.”

“How come I wasn’t informed?”

“Officially, there hasn’t been a formal announcement.”

“How did you find out?”

“I know people who know people. Remember?”

Dupree thought about that for a minute. “That still doesn’t solve my problem with the captain.”

T.J. winked. “That’s handled, too.”

“You’ve lost me, T.J.”

“While Ashley and you were bonding this weekend, I had a long chat with Jensen.”

“And?”

“I anticipated that Ashley and you would have a problem trying to see each other as often as possible. I also figured that you would make more trips west than she would east. I told the captain about your situation and believe it or not, he was really touched—said he’d do whatever he could to accommodate your vacation requests. Maybe he’s not as much of a hard ass as we both thought.”

She looked at T.J. with tears in her eyes. “I… I don’t know what to say.” Her voice was quivering. “Thank you so much.”

“Hey, if the situation was reversed, I know you’d do the same for me.”

Neither spoke for a long time.

“I still can’t believe that the captain agreed to be flexible with me on my vacation time.”

“Well,” T.J. said. “There is one more minor factor. I guess you could call it a motivator.” He let out a laugh. “I told him that if he didn’t work with you I would tell his wife that he’s smoking two packs of Camel’s a day and that he keeps a stash of Twinkies and M & M’s in his bottom drawer.”

Dupree laughed. She wasn’t sure about the last part of the story, but really didn’t care. As long as she could see Ashley as often as possible, nothing else mattered. “I think what you did is called blackmail.”

“Actually, it’s called salesmanship.”

Neither uttered a sound, but their eyes met. Dupree saw a look on his face that she’d never seen before. His eyes seemed to sparkle with a profound intensity.

He moved toward her.

Dupree didn’t quite know how to react; she sat frozen, studying him closely.

T.J. closed his eyes and tenderly kissed her lips. It was not a passionate or lustful kiss. It was brief but gentle. Dupree didn’t respond to his gesture, but she also did nothing to stop him.

She felt paralyzed, her mind plagued with confusion and disbelief.

“I am so sorry, Amaris,” T.J. said. “That was so inappropriate of me. I deeply apologize. I just don’t know what came over me. I guess it was just… the moment. My emotions are a little unstable right now. Please forgive me. I promise it’ll never happen again.”

Dupree didn’t know what to think. She glanced at T.J. but his head was turned away from her, as if he was too embarrassed to look at her. Her mind was overwhelmed with conflicting thoughts. She wasn’t sure what she felt.

“T.J.”

He turned his head.

When she looked into his eyes, they told her everything she needed to know. No more confusion. No more doubts. “What if I want it to happen again?”

August 1

This was Dr. Mason’s third trip to David Taylor’s mansion on the isle of Anguilla. The CEO of Ritter-Stone Pharmaceuticals and Dr. Mason met in Taylor’s private den, both enjoying an espresso.

“It surprised me when I found out about Adelman, Gallo, and Hansen.” Taylor said. “Who knew they would be so careless?”

“It sure shocked me,” Mason said. “But it did create quite an opportunity for you.”

“As the cliché goes, ‘Their loss is my gain’.”

“You’ll be happy to know,” Mason said, “that my brilliant attorneys found a loophole around the price cap in Horizon’s operating charter.” He grinned. “I don’t quite understand all the legal technicalities, but basically, all we have to do is inflate our expenses and limit production and we can charge whatever we damn-well-want for the drugs and treatments.”

“That’s great news, Ed. I’ve always been fonder of the word, ‘billion’, than ‘million’.”

“I know that verbally we’ve worked out the details of the partnership,” Mason said. “But when will the contracts be ready?”

Taylor slid a manila folder across the table. “You’ll probably want your attorneys to review these documents.” Taylor winked. “Except for the matter of the incentive we agreed upon, which of course can’t be in writing, everything should be in order.”

“I’ll let my legal counsel scrutinize the fine print. All I want to know is when do I get the ten million?”

“As soon as everything is approved by the FDA,” Taylor said, “and we begin production and distribution.”

“And how long might that be?”

“That depends on how long it takes for us to complete all the research and submit the application to the FDA. Educated guess? About a year. Crawford will be a tough act to follow. And without Gallo, it will present a few challenges. But my team has meticulously studied the data and we feel confident that soon we’re going to make the cover of Journal of the American Medical Association .”