Big Bang 2012: Love Lies Burning. 2/24
Spring is easing in and the sun shines today. Jensen lifts his face toward the hazy yellow orb before focusing on the entrance of the offices opposite Padalecki Gardens. Jensen knows the license plates of all the cars that pull up. Jeff Padalecki, Managing Director is exactly on time at 8:05, wearing his favorite navy suit and designer shades. He steps out of the car, looming large, even taller than Jared, exuding confidence and control. His P.A., Kim arrived ten minutes before him, no doubt making sure to have everything prepared in his office. Alona, Jared’s assistant, dashes in next. She’s flustered and clipping up her hair as she goes. He wonders why she’s worried, Jared won’t be in for another twenty five minutes. Misha Collins has no fixed schedule, the calm accountant with the cool blue eyes takes light steps to reception. He arrives any time between 8 and 9, today it's 8:17. Jensen settles on his blanket, just inside the gardens that brighten the view from the Padelecki Inc. offices. Sadie sidles close to place her head on his lap and he strokes her ears. Sadie groans and rolls to have her tummy tickled.
The sidewalk beside Jen’s patch of grass teems with the rush and race of workers flocking to their confined cubicles and dowdy desks. They keep their own space, weave in intricate patterns to avoid each other’s touch and chatter endlessly on thin plastic phones. He sits almost at their feet and isn’t seen, never hiding, but he’s in another universe, faceless to them.
Jared Padalecki, CEO of Padalecki Inc., industry leaders in the 'ready-to-mix-and-bake' food market, doesn't see Jensen at 8.30 but Jensen sees him. Jared’s shirt is rumpled, and it’s flapping, partially loose, from his waistband as his hair drips wet onto the unbuttoned collar. Jensen puts his fingers to the nape of his own neck. He thinks it got wet sometime earlier, before he swam, but doesn't want to recall why. His brain gears up and reminds him that he got wet swimming so it isn't relevant. It’s dry now though, and the sky is blue, so it looks like it will stay that way. Padalecki Inc.’s CEO scowls at his doorman and slams the glass door too hard behind him.
There’s nothing new today. Everyone is in the right place at the right time and Jensen ticks all the major boxes on his mental list and relaxes. He picks up his belongings and heads for his next destination. The library opens at 9:00 a.m.
Alona closes the tabs on the careers pages that she’s been browsing, just before Jared stalks past. He picks a mug out of her outstretched hand and takes a sip.
“This coffee tastes like shit, Alona.” As greetings go, it’s not the worst she’s had from him.
He clicks his briefcase open on his desk and pulls a stack of papers from it. “Where’s the figures?” Jared yells through the open door at his assistant.
Alona counts to ten in her head. “Misha said he’d bring them up before your meeting.”
“Oh.”
Alona fiddles with her hair as she checks the mail. She feels his gaze on her and tries not to squirm.
“You’ve lightened your hair. I preferred how it was before. This makes you look like a bimbo. Try not to bring the company image down with you.”
She continues with the mail. It’s still not the worst thing he’s ever said to her. Alona isn’t sure whether Jared is wantonly cruel or emotionally stunted. From the slight smirk on his lips she guesses it’s the former, but when she took the job she’d said she wanted a challenge, and she certainly enjoys the pay. She’s lasted longer than any of Jared’s previous assistants and at eleven months that’s quite an achievement.
It goes quiet and she hears the shuffling of papers, the hum of his pc starting up and slam of a drawer. She stacks the mail into ‘urgent’, ‘routine’ and ‘unnecessary’.
“Why has my schedule been altered?” there’s a low growl behind her. For a big man Jared can be horribly stealthy. She's sure it's the only reason her office is plushly carpeted.
“Jeff thought it would be best to discuss the Linden investment first thing, so there is a united front about the fire.”
“Fire?”
Alona thought she’d seen every expression that Jared had to offer but the one that flits across his features at that moment is completely different to anything she’s experienced before. There is confusion, concern and perhaps panic? None of them are emotions that Alona would associate with her employer.
“You do know that Linden burned to the ground last night?”
“I haven’t seen the news yet. Is it completely gone?” Jared is back in control, his face carefully schooled.
“From what we can tell, yes.”
“Well that’s a lucky break. It needed something to push it on. Insurance pays up and the value of the land increases. It’s been a pain in the ass. It was never going to be profitable and the do-gooders still whinge and whine about re-opening it. Maybe we can offload it already. A good result I’d say.”
A shudder works its way down his assistant’s spine. “They found bodies, sir. There were fatalities.”
Jared’s brows furrow, almost meeting, “Fire-fighters or security?”
“Itinerants they think, there’s been four found so far.”
Jared’s tone lifts and he smiles “Street rats. That’s good,” he says cheerfully. “It’s unlikely there’ll be a claim against us then.” He picks up the pile of urgent mail and retreats to his space with a firm clunk of his door.
Alona freezes for a few moments, her mind whirs and spins. Poison! The man is pure venom. You should quit! Leave! Pick up your purse and walk out!
“Is he giving you a hard time?” Misha walks in without so much as a knock, shuffles his beautifully dressed ass onto the edge of her desk and proffers a pack of toffees. “Here chew on one of these. It’ll stop you saying anything you regret.”
“I should leave,” she says as she dips her hand in the bag.
“You know you’d miss his pretty face and that toned body.”
“It’s all a disguise for evil. He’s Dr. Robotnik.”
Misha tips his head and chuckles, “What did he do?”
“He doesn’t care, about the people who died at Linden.” Alona can’t hide her disgust.
“Woah! If you want to be fired then that is a good way of going about it.” Misha tips his head and there is a flicker of cold warning in the piercing blue stare. It’s gone in an instant and he’s smiling again.
“Oh God!” Alona sits up straight in panic and finds a distraction arranging the pens on her workspace. Sometimes Misha is so personable she forgets the influence of the blue eyed man. Some say that Jeff Padalecki is the second most powerful man at Padalecki Inc. but Alona knows it is Misha, the cheery financial director and Jared’s best friend. (Hell, his only friend!) It stretches her brain too far to wonder how that relationship even works. The difference in them is elemental.
He motions his hand to calm her, “What exactly did he say?”
“He said the fire was a good thing, insurance would pay out and the dead were unlikely to prompt claims against the company.”
Misha growls low in his throat but he’s still smiling at Alona. “Well, it’s the bare truth but he better improve his lines before the press rip him apart. Leave it to me.” He pats her hand and chuckles, “Dr Robotnik! That’s funny.”
Jared calls him in over the intercom and Alona follows Misha's progress until the door closes behind him. If her eyes linger on the cut of his trousers and the pull of his shirt over his shoulders there’s nobody there to notice.
Everything is just perfect until Jensen returns to his spot at lunchtime. He’s in the right place at the right time but it is an unfamiliar reality. A police car is parked at an angle from the curb by Padalecki Inc.’s offices and a crowd of noisy men and women with cameras surge forward against a hastily constructed barrier. Uniformed officers and security struggle to hold the line and the chaos obstructs Jensen’s view. Sadie whimpers and presses warm against his leg.
Wrong, wrong, bad. Jensen is shaking once more.
There’s a sudden increase in the level of noise. Microphones are held into the air and there are myriad flashes of bright white light, “Mr. Padalecki! Mr. Padalecki!” yell voices from the midst of the gathering.
Jensen doesn’t notice the screech of brakes and angry calls, one minute he is despairing over the lack of view from his spot in the gardens and then he isn’t. He finds himself in the middle of an overexcited, sweaty melee, standing mesmerized and terrified, just yards from the Padalecki Brothers. Jeff stands solid and supportive a step behind and to the side of Jared and Jared stands tall and straight in the center of the steps to their offices, holding a stack of prompt cards in his hand. The CEO is looking down at the cards and back at the crowd and swapping hands to wipe his fingers on his pants. Perspiration is beading on his brow.
“Good afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen.” Jared’s Texan drawl silences the crowd.
Arms stretch to the maximum to wave microphones and cameras in his direction.
“We would appreciate your attention while I read a short, prepared statement. I will accept questions for a limited time after the announcement and a press pack has been prepared. Please respect that Padalecki is a business that supports numerous workers and the local community. Give our employees the space and privacy that is due to them.”
Jared shifts his weight onto his other foot and breathes in. His gaze scans just above the mass of media, giving the appearance of looking at them but avoiding eye contact.
“Last night, at some time after 11:00 p.m. a fire broke out at the Linden factory on West Street, which is a part of the Padalecki Inc. portfolio. The factory was not in use, it was responsibly secured and there were no employees on the premises. We have been informed that there were, nevertheless, several fatalities. Our sympathies extend to the relatives of those lost in the incident. At this time we do not know how the fire started or any other circumstances relating to it. Padalecki Inc. will be giving its full co-operation to police and city authorities. We would ask you to respect the investigation. We will brief the press whenever we can. Thank you for your patience.” He effectively dismisses them but they are already shouting their questions.
“Mr. Padalecki, what were the victims doing on your property?”
“Mr. Padalecki, did you attend the scene?”
“Mr. Padalecki, the supporters of this business were giving you a tough time selling the building, do you have any message for them?”
Jared shuts his eyes momentarily and clenches his fists. “No, I wasn't in attendance at the scene. I was briefed on the incident at 9:00 this morning. At this time we have no information as to why anybody would have been on our premises. The destruction of the building certainly ends all calls to reopen the factory but it is not how we would have wanted this dispute to end.”
A loud insistent voice is repeating a question loudly. “Mr. Padalecki, this is the third fire to destroy property in dispute, in your company’s portfolio, in last five years, do you see any connection between them?”
There is a faint shake of his head and the styled brunette hair shines in the sunlight as it lifts with the movement. Jared seems to be steeling himself to answer the question when another, strident and nasal tone interrupts “Smith of City News. Mr. Padalecki, it is almost ten years to the day when another Padalecki factory was destroyed by fire during a dispute. There were two deaths. Do you see any parallels to this incident?”
The crowd hushes in anticipation of the reply. Cameras are raised and flashes blaze to capture the CEO’s awkward expression. A high pitched keening is coming from somewhere in the crowd and Jensen looks about for the culprit before he clutches his hand over his mouth, shocked to realize that he is the source. Jared Padalecki’s fox-like hazel eyes turn in his direction and find the wide-eyed green stare. They lock gaze and look at each other for a long, uncomfortable moment, until Jensen pulls at Sadie’s collar and battles through the bodies to flee. He feels Jared Padalecki’s eyes on him until he is around a corner, out of sight, panting and distressed. He catches his breath then starts running again, with no fixed destination.
Jared is shocked by the appearance of the man and his deep green stare. Something disturbing picks at his memories but he can’t make any connections. He tracks the shabby man’s escape until he is out of sight and takes a minute to compose himself, with hand outstretched and fingers splayed in the universal sign for ‘back off’.
“We have a large and varied portfolio and accidents are bound to occur. There is absolutely no comparison to be made with the Becks Factory, which was in production when an unfortunate chain of events led to a spark igniting airborne dust. That tragedy was a source of great regret for the Padalecki business and the Padalecki family, but it is history, it was long before my time here. Shortcomings were addressed and procedures are in place at all of our occupied premises which make them some of the safest places to work in the U.S. I should remind you that Padalecki Inc. has a strong legal team and we will contest all cases of libel that are brought to our attention. Please address further questions to our press office. Good afternoon.” It is an abrupt end and Jared pushes his way through Jeff, Alona and the doorman to step into the elevator on his own. He closes the door before anybody can join him and rests his head on the cool, reflective mirror glass. He needs time to think. Jared Padalecki doesn’t believe in coincidences.
His brother follows fast behind and is in Jared's office only minutes after him, “What the hell was that about Jared?” Jeff rounds on him angrily.
“Fucking sharks circling. Fuck ‘em!”
“Seriously! Are you cracking up? Is the stress getting to you? Do you need some time off?”
“You’d love that wouldn’t you?” Jared’s tone is sarcastic.
“You just went loco, scared some dirty tramp and threatened the entire media, like we have something to hide.”
“Maybe we do. I mean, do you even believe it?”
“Bro, what the hell are you suggesting? You think there’s some sort of conspiracy here?”
Jared sits heavily on his deep leather swivel chair. He runs his hand through his hair and sighs. “I don’t know, but the guy who was there, the one I saw. There’s something ‘off’ about him. I’ve seen him somewhere before.”
“Of course there’s something off about him Jared. He’s a goddamn freak and hobo. It don’t get more ‘off’ than that.”
“Leave me alone Jeff.” Jared is feeling inexplicably unsettled by the stranger’s presence and he’s not looking for an argument with his brother today.
“Gladly.” Jeff storms from the room muttering, “Headcase!”
Misha and Alona watch Jeff exit. Misha raises one eyebrow high. “Sibling rivalry,” he whispers. “Mint?” he asks as he rustles a paper bag at her, and she dips in for a smooth round sweet.
Alona sucks on the fiery candy while surreptitiously eyeing her boss. In eleven months she has never seen him lose his cool. She’s seen every variation of mean, cruel, angry, impatient and menacing but never this anxious and frustrated version. She quite likes it. It makes him almost human.
“Mr. Padalecki, Sir.” She slurps and tucks the mint into her cheek to speak up and both men look surprised. “The man with the dog, he’s familiar to everyone around here. You have seen him before. I believe you’ve petted his dog. Her name is Sadie. Kim sometimes takes the leftover food out to them after seminars or conferences.”
Jared looks to Misha for confirmation and is rewarded with a nod and a shrug. He leans forward, taking an interest. “What is his name?”
Alona shrugs, “Don’t rightly know, Sadie’s got a tag but he doesn’t.”
He scowls at the short answer and the next question is scathing. “So are you completely incapable of going on? Do I have to pull it out of you bit by bit; or isn’t there any more?”
“Well, he’s been around for longer than I’ve been here.”
Misha qualifies, “Best estimate, at least two years Jay.”
Alona continues, “He has a spot in the gardens, by the sidewalk or just under the overhanging shelter, it depends on the weather. He sits there most mornings, comes back again lunchtime and evenings.”
Jared looks confused, “But what does he do?”
“Sometimes he reads, or writes stuff in his little diary, I’ve seen him sketch. Mostly he watches.” Jared's gaze is intent and Alona comes to halt, nervously looping strands of her hair around her fingers.
The accountant comes to her rescue at last. “He’s homeless but he’s not any trouble. He doesn’t beg and he doesn't seem to drink or do drugs. I never heard a sound from him before today. Didn’t think he could."
Alona offers more, "I used to think he was simple but Kim says she's seen him complete The Times crossword, and he’ll always take the financial news to read, if it’s offered. He was probably curious and panicked because he’s not used to the attention.”
“Two years! Why? We fund those gardens. Why haven’t we had him arrested or moved on or whatever it is that you do to get rid of undesirables?”
Alona opens her mouth and Misha gestures that he’s got this. “Because he may be homeless but he’s not undesirable. He’s a part of the scenery and color around here. People are used to it and they like it. They like him, the same as they like the rose bushes and that stupid lantern light by the kitsch bird bath. It makes our staff feel good to see him there and offer him a sandwich or a drink. It makes them smile. God knows, working here there’s little enough of that. Really, ignore him, there’s no need to make a fuss.”
Jared's assistant tries not to gape at Misha’s blunt criticism. Alona has never been party to a personal conversation between the CEO and his accountant. Non-professional lives are kept strictly behind closed doors, but neither of them seems to remember that right now.
“Fuck!” A real smile tugs at Jared’s lips, his eyes shine in amusement and Alona notices, for the first time, that he has dimples. “Padalecki Inc. is in a class of our fucking own, Mish. We have a living, breathing gnome in our garden. I bet none of our competitors can say that.” They laugh together and some of the tension dissipates. They all return to their work. Alona retrieves a stamped envelope from the outgoing mail and rips it to pieces before throwing it in the trash.
Jared’s drawl makes her jump, “Oh good. I’d hate to have to break in another secretary and that stationary is company property. Since you have decided to stay, do us a favor and stop teasing Misha. If you’re going to disturb me by crunching on his candy all day, the least you can do is get him laid, or date, or whatever it is you heterosexuals do.”
And wow! She’s not sure how that happened. She thinks her mean and mirthless employer has just come out as gay to her, after making inappropriate suggestions about her relationship with his accountant, involving the phrase candy crunching. Alona is fairly certain that the expression on his face hides a self-satisfied smirk and it makes her all kinds of uneasy. She wonders if that was the intention.
Part 3
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