Page 8 of Phoenix Fire

“Damn!” he blurted, “wish the hell he'd get off my case about that meeting. I'll have everything ready. Okay, Rita, I'll pick up line three. Tell Logan I'll see him this afternoon.”

Carlton was vice president and controller of Heritage Tool and Manufacturing and he felt that he did not get the respect he deserved. Shaking his head in silent irritation, he picked up the telephone.

“Hello, grandmother, what's up?” He could be sure she wanted something from him.

“Hello, Carlton. Are you very busy?”

“I can talk, grandmother. There's nothing that won't wait.”

“Are you coming to dinner on Friday night?”

“Yes, I was planning to come. Usually, I do.”

“I know, Carlton, but I wanted to know if Sheila might be coming with you. Are you still seeing her?”

“Haven't seen her for a few weeks. We're more or less not seeing each other at the moment. Why are you asking about Sheila?”

Carlton felt a tinge of remorse and wariness. He had said some nasty things to Sheila at their last parting and had physically mishandled her. He hoped that she was not trying to cause problems for him with his grandmother.

“Just wondering, Carlton. She left a lovely pair of earrings when she was here last. I thought she might be missing them. Anyway, Jason is bringing a new young lady and I thought you might want to know, in case you didn't want to come alone.”

“Thanks for your concern, grandmother, but, at the moment, it looks as if I'll be coming alone. Is that a problem for you?”

“Of course not. I just wanted you to know so you wouldn't be surprised or feel awkward if you were alone. It's been so seldom that you boys bring someone to the house.”

“It doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you, grandmother. I won't be uncomfortable either way. Maybe I will ask Sheila to come. Either way, don't be concerned for me. I'm a big boy.”

“That's fine, Carlton. Good. Then, I'll let you get back to your work. See you on Friday. Have a nice day, grandson.”

“Thank you, grandmother. You, too, have a nice day.” He said his parting words with formality and indifference.

He sat for some long moments, assessing his grandmother's telephone call. He always suspected ulterior motives in the actions of others, even his grandmother's actions. He doubted that her call was merely an RSVP matter. That would be too simple. It was probably more a goading call, just her way of letting him know that Jason had a new girlfriend. She had no doubt wanted more from the call. Maybe she wanted to know if he had prior knowledge of the new woman in Jason's life. Maybe she wanted him to say he was not coming for Friday's dinner. Whatever her real reason for calling he knew that it would have something to do with Jason's best interests. Well, he could not care less about the new woman in Jason's life, and his mission on Friday night would be fun. He would plan on being as disruptive and rude as possible.

The Friday night dinners at Grandmother Wimsley's hilltop home had become tradition. They had started shortly after Grandfather Wimsley's death some seven years ago and was initially intended no doubt as a support type get-together for the grieving widow. Then, they had become obligatory and habitual time slots to serve as family times to discuss current events and personal problems. The dinners also provided a forum for grandmother to provide information on the family's 'state of the union.' For the most part, the dinners were enjoyable and had kept the family closer than it otherwise might have been.

For Carlton, the Friday night dinners had provided him the opportunity to discover just how Jason was steadily ingratiating himself to the matriarchal head of the family, just how Jason was establishing himself as the 'favorite son.' It was so obvious that Jason was given the most attention at these weekly repasts, but Carlton never complained or made it an issue. He knew what was happening, and that was enough. He would just bide his time and see if his brother made any mistakes on which he could capitalize. Besides, grandmother was helping him lately with some of his financial woes, and he surely did not wish to rock the boat too much.

All of his life Carlton had meekly and quietly submitted to the 'holier than thou' persona of his brother. Jason had always been shown the preferential treatment around his grandmother. Jason was the grandson with grandiose plans, projects, and superior positive thinking. Carlton had never openly revealed to Jason just how much he was disdained by his older sibling. Perhaps Carlton's feelings were obvious because Jason seemed to ignore and avoid his older brother most of the time.

These were Carlton's perceptions. He would never consider that perhaps his perceptions were flawed. No, he was never wrong in his assessments of people. This, he firmly believed.

When he had finished the paperwork in front of him he grabbed his suit coat from the tree rack in the corner and started to leave his office. The phone stopped him, and he returned to his desk.

“Yes?” he barked at Rita, the phone barely up to his ear.

“Sorry, Mr. Prince. There's a Mr. Danzetti on the line for you.” Actually, Rita enjoyed being a minor thorn in Carlton Prince's side. With all her years at Heritage Tool and Manufacturing he still demeaned and harassed her with his surly and arrogant behavior.

There was a hesitation while Carlton thought about his caller. Reluctantly, he responded, “Put him through, Rita.”

“Prince, this is Frank Danzetti. You've ...”

“I asked that you never call me at my office, Mr. Danzetti. I don't like the intrusion.”

There was a heavy pause at the other end of the line, then a hard chuckle. “You 'don't like the intrusion?' Did I hear you right? You 'don't like the intrusion?'” Danzetti never gave Carlton a chance to respond, cutting him off in mid-word. “Listen, Prince, don't pull your big corporate power crap with me! You know why the hell I'm calling. So, you might start making with the talk I want to hear.”

Carlton did not answer. The silence on the line was palpable.

Danzetti spoke again, “Anytime, Prince. Mr. Lupo wants some disposition on your debt. Talk to me. Talk to me now!”

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