Chapter 4 - The Boy Who Came With InstructionsI found out because Blake made one mistake.
He left his phone on the table.
It happened Friday night at a freshman mixer.
Nora convinced me to attend because, according to her, “Hiding in our room will only make everyone assume you’re either arrogant or secretly royalty.”
“I’m not royalty.”
“Tell that to Campus Confessions. Someone called you ‘the Logistics Princess.’”
“I hate everyone.”
“You’ll hate them more productively after pizza.”
The mixer was held in an old brick courtyard strung with lights.
For almost an hour, things were normal.
I met students who didn’t seem interested in my family.
A girl named Tessa studying chemistry.
A guy named Marcus who wanted to produce documentaries.
Two international students who spent ten minutes arguing about American peanut butter.
I relaxed.
Then Blake appeared.
He brought me lemonade.
“I come in peace.”
“I didn’t ask for anything.”
“Exactly. That’s why it’s not bribery.”
I reluctantly took it.
He was charming.
That was the problem.
Blake could make almost anything sound harmless.
We talked about classes.
Movies.
Boston.
His plans to major in finance.
Eventually I began wondering whether I had judged him too harshly because of Madison.
Then he went to take a call.
And left his phone beside me.
The screen lit up.
I didn’t mean to read it.
But his father’s name appeared above the message.
ARTHUR CARLISLE:
Any progress with the Hayes girl? We need David back at the table before October.
My stomach dropped.
Another message arrived.
Don't push the property yet. Get her comfortable with you first.
I stared.
Blake returned.
He saw my face.
Then the phone.
Everything changed.
“Emma.”
I stood.
“Don’t.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“That sentence should be illegal.”
“Listen to me.”
“You were sent here.”
“No.”
I held up the phone.
“You want to try again?”
His jaw tightened.
“My father asked me to introduce myself.”
“Because?”
“He thought our families should know each other.”
“Your exact words yesterday.”
“Emma—”
“Did you know he wanted you to get close to me?”
Blake didn’t answer.
That was enough.
I walked away.
He caught my arm.
Not violently.
But firmly enough that I stopped.
Nora appeared instantly.
“Take your hand off her.”
Blake released me.
“I’m trying to explain.”
“Then explain without touching her.”
I looked at him.
“Did you come to my room because your father told you to?”
“Yes.”
That single word hurt more than it should have.
We barely knew each other.
Still, for an hour, I had allowed myself to believe someone from that family might genuinely like me.
“Did you apologize because you wanted to?”
“Yes.”
“Why should I believe that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Neither do I.”
I walked away.
The following morning, Dad arrived.
Not in the Rolls-Royce.
In the blue pickup.
When I saw it outside the dorm, I laughed.
He stepped out carrying coffee.
“You said you needed advice.”
“I do.”
“I assumed the truck might help us identify my motives.”
“Very funny.”
We sat beneath a tree near the library.
I told him everything.
Dad listened without interrupting.
When I finished, I expected anger.
Instead, he looked tired.
“This is why I didn’t want you knowing too young.”
“So you expected things like this?”
“I hoped you’d avoid some of them.”
“What should I do?”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Whether Blake is his father.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
Dad took a sip of coffee.
“People can be pressured by family and still make their own choices.”
“He lied.”
“Yes.”
“You’re defending him?”
“No. I’m telling you not to reduce people to one mistake unless you want them doing the same to you.”
I thought about move-in day.
The embarrassment I had felt about Dad.
He had forgiven me before I even asked.
“That’s annoyingly reasonable.”
“One of my worst qualities.”
“What about Arthur?”
Dad’s expression hardened slightly.
“That is different.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s an adult using his son to influence a business deal.”
“What’s wrong with the land?”
Dad hesitated.
“Contamination.”
“What kind?”
“The parcel used to contain manufacturing facilities. Soil reports showed industrial solvents above acceptable levels.”
“And Arthur wants you to buy it?”
“He wants Hayes Meridian to become lead investor in a luxury residential development.”
I stared.
“Homes?”
“Exactly.”
“Does Blake know?”
“I don’t know.”
Dad pulled a folder from his bag.
“Arthur’s consultants claim remediation will solve the problem. Our independent engineers disagree.”
“What happens if you reject it?”
“He loses a tremendous amount of money.”
“How much?”
“Possibly hundreds of millions.”
I whistled.
Dad looked toward the dorm.
“Which creates motivation.”
“For what?”
“To make me reconsider.”
I thought about the message.
Get her comfortable with you first.
My skin crawled.
“Dad, I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“Being embarrassed by you.”
He smiled.
“We covered that.”
“No. I mean really sorry.”
Dad studied me.
“When I saw everyone else’s parents, I thought they looked successful and you looked…”
“Like I steal copper wire?”
I laughed.
“Poor.”
He nodded.
“And now?”
“You look like my dad.”
“Better.”
That afternoon, Madison found me outside the dining hall.
She looked different.
No entourage.
No perfect confidence.
“Can we talk?”
I almost kept walking.
Then I remembered Dad’s words.
One mistake.
Not an entire person.
“Five minutes.”
We sat on a low brick wall.
Madison stared at her hands.
“My mother thinks I shouldn’t apologize.”
“That sounds healthy.”
“She says your family embarrassed us publicly.”
“My father didn’t tell you to insult us.”
“I know.”
She swallowed.
“I was horrible.”
I waited.
No excuses came.
“I grew up hearing my parents talk about people like they belonged to categories. Good families. Wrong families. Useful families.”
Her eyes filled.
“When I saw you arrive, I immediately put you in the wrong category.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“I know.”
“Would you be apologizing if my dad wasn’t rich?”
Her face tightened.
“I’ve asked myself that about fifty times.”
“And?”
“At first? Probably not.”
I appreciated the answer because it was ugly and honest.
“But now?”
“Now I hate that version of me.”
I looked at her.
She took something from her purse.
My small silver bracelet.
I had thought I lost it during move-in.
“I found this underneath the bed.”
“Thanks.”
“I wanted to return it.”
I slipped it onto my wrist.
“Madison, your brother was sent to get close to me.”
She froze.
“What?”
I told her.
Her face changed.
Not surprise.
Fear.
“You need to stay away from Blake.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
She looked around.
“Because my father doesn’t ask.”
“What does that mean?”
“When Dad says he wants something, he expects us to make it happen.”
“Did you know about the property?”
“No.”
“But Blake?”
She hesitated.
“Blake has worked for Dad every summer since he was fifteen.”
My stomach twisted.
“What kind of work?”
“Whatever Dad wants.”
Before I could ask another question, Madison stood.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Wait.”
She began walking.
“Madison.”
She turned.
“Your father rejected something my dad desperately needs.”
“Yes.”
She went pale.
“Then this isn’t about you.”
“What?”
“It’s about leverage.”
That night, someone broke into my dorm room.
Nothing obvious was stolen.
My laptop remained.
Jewelry remained.
Cash remained.
But the folder my father had shown me—the one containing copies of the environmental reports—was gone.
And on my desk sat a note.
May you like
Three words.
STAY OUT OF IT.
Related Stories
