Mixed Signals Read online

  His father asked Sally to come in and handed her the marked-up plan. “Copies, plus a scan. Email to all parties.” She nodded and headed out. “Dr. Kaplan, you’ll get a copy before you leave, but I’m sure Sally will get the electronic version emailed to you this afternoon.”

  Benjamin finally stopped, blinked, and looked stunned. “Oh. Thank you. This was enlightening. I never expected… ah, well, Frank said, of course, but I thought… uh….”

  Frank’s father gave Benjamin a gentle, benevolent smile, and Frank’s hackles went up.

  “You thought you were just humoring his paranoid father.” His father laughed and actually reached over to pat Benjamin’s arm. Frank sat up in the chair, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

  “Well, you said it. Not me.” Benjamin grinned.

  His father laughed again, then motioned at Frank. “Dr. Kaplan… may I call you Benjamin?”

  Benjamin nodded. “Of course, sure. Uh, please do.”

  His father settled back in his chair with an easy grin. Frank gave his father a suspicious, narrow-eyed glare that was completely ignored. As usual.

  “So. Benjamin. I of course had your credentials verified, and Sally spent a half hour on the phone with the dean of the computer science department, who was complaining about the fact that you did not, in fact, want to become a tenured professor.”

  Benjamin blanched as much as his olive-tinted skin allowed. “Uh.”

  “Apparently he talked at length about your intentions to do ‘something crazy’ with avionics.”

  “Father—” Frank grumbled.

  His father lifted a hand to silence him without looking over, his pleasant grin focused entirely on Benjamin, who was sitting there, speechless for once, with his mouth ajar.

  “So I think you should tell me exactly what this business arrangement is about and why you have decided to use ‘video game development’ as a cover.”

  Benjamin shot Frank a panicked look. Frank shrugged because he had nothing. Nothing. His father was too smart, and Frank had made the crucial error of underestimating him. Again.

  “Come now, boys. The video game is a good, solid idea! I’m sure Alexandra will enjoy testing the game, and I agree, it has commercial potential in the edutainment market. Well done! But don’t play this old man for an old fool. You don’t need ten million dollars for that.” He folded his hands over his stomach and waited with his usual calm, infuriating patience.

  Benjamin’s mouth opened and closed a few times.

  “Father, I swear—”

  “Flying cars!” Benjamin nearly shouted. Frank grimaced, but his father just raised his eyebrows. Benjamin coughed. “Flying cars. That’s what I’m working on. That’s… kinda what we’ve been talking about?” He framed it as a question, looking over at Frank.

  “Dammit, Benji.” Frank growled. “You suck at interrogation!”

  “Benjamin! We talked about that! And your father is ruthless! This is not news!”

  “He barely asked a complete question! You folded like a house of cards!”

  “Sorry! I’m not used to being vivisected by titans of industry!”

  They were stalled by his father’s belly laugh. “Boys! Enough bickering. I want the real story.”

  Of course, that was when Benjamin clammed up.

  Frank sighed. “He’s working on both plans and AI. It’s all incredibly preliminary, so we were hoping to fly under the radar—”

  “So to speak,” his father said with a laugh.

  “Right.” Frank threw up his hands.

  His father zeroed in on Benjamin again, but this time, Benjamin had a fierce look in his eyes. “What makes your ideas special? I talk to venture capitalists investing in flying cars every week.”

  Benjamin waved a lazy hand through the air as he rolled his eyes, obviously in his element. “Sure. It’s a car. That flies. Nothing is really new here. Tie in automation and it’s a bit more cutting-edge, but as you know, self-driving cars have already clocked millions of miles in testing. Nothing special: combine and stir and voila! Flying cars. But here’s the thing: the infrastructure isn’t there. Air traffic control? Flight plans? Even in the early days of cars, there were already roads people could drive down, connecting towns and cities and homes. Cities had streets, and eventually public transportation corridors. Aside from major flight corridors between airports, we’ve got none of that for flying cars. Sure, we can mimic the roads in existence, but they are rarely the fastest way to get from point A to point B, and flight allows for three-dimensional traffic by stacking routes on top of each other. So it’s less ‘self-driving flying cars!’ than creating a way to make it all safe and interconnected and, ideally, crash-resistant.”

  During the spiel, Frank watched his father go from amused to interested to impressed. It was not something that happened often. “How preliminary is this research?”

  “Advanced preliminary. I’m using a lot of open-source elements to build on, and it’s not as if designing small planes is a new science, but I’m only one person. I was going to use some of the video game funding to increase processing power and outsource some of the design specs and specific coding jobs.”

  “I would think testing would involve more than that,” Frank’s father said, resting his arms on the table and leaning forward.

  “Of course it would, but I never planned on being Elon Musk. Developing production was never the plan. I was going to put it all together and sell it as a turnkey start-up.”

  If anything, his father looked more impressed. “Really?”

  Benjamin mirrored his pose, resting his arms on the table and looking straight at him. “This isn’t a one- or two-million-dollar project. If I can get China or some Middle Eastern kingdom or, hell, Elon Musk himself to buy it, it’s going to have a price tag of several billion. Flat.”

  “Bold as brass,” his father clucked with a hint of reprimand.

  “How big do you think that industry is going to be, over the next fifty years?”

  His father paused, and Frank could see the wheels turning. “Good point.”

  Benjamin seemed to catch himself at that point, sitting back in his chair and using his eyes as a plea for help from Frank.

  “Happy now?” Frank asked, crossing his arms.

  His father’s good humor returned. “Indeed. We’ll have to talk about this further, of course.”

  “We do?” Benjamin startled.

  “We do not,” Frank said. “You approved the video game plan, and that’s all we needed.”

  “Hmmm.” He turned to Benjamin. “I need to speak with Francis privately for a few moments. Family business, nothing for you to worry about.”

  “Francis?”

  “Father—”

  “I’m not calling you Frank. It makes you sound like a character in a bad sitcom.”

  Benjamin snickered.

  “Okay then, thanks, Benji. I’ll be right out.”

  “Hey, what’d I say about that? Don’t—hey, stop pushing.”

  Frank shut the door in Benjamin’s outraged face before turning on his father, who was grinning at him. Frank crossed his arms and glared.

  “For chrissake, Francis, I’m not an idiot. I know what this was.”

  Frank faltered, wondering when his father had seen through their ruse. Probably when Frank never said a damn word about the business plan for the last hour. His father got up and hugged him, though, and laughed again.

  “Hell, I did the same thing with your mother’s father. He terrified me, but I was so in love. He was a hardworking insurance salesman from the Midwest, thought I was some kind of silver-spoon rich brat out to defile his daughter.” His father gave him a sly look. “He wasn’t wrong.”

  “Ew. Stop.” Frank put a hand over his eyes, trying to block the image out.

  “He wasn’t wrong about my being a rich brat either. Medical school was a lark for me.” He sighed heavily as he sat down.

  “Only you would call med school a ‘lark
,’ Father. But I don’t get it, you always said you wanted to be a doctor.”

  “I did. Ever since I was a boy. I loved medical science the way you love planes—still do. But it wasn’t as if I needed the job. I got to intern at one of the top hospitals in the country through family connections. I suppose that doesn’t reflect well on me, but I didn’t care. I was every inch the playboy.”

  Frank blinked at his father, uncomprehending. This was not something he had ever heard before.

  His father picked up on his surprise. “Oh, all of that changed when I met your mother. I changed, my plans changed, everything changed. I wanted her father’s blessing, and I was not going to get that by promising to provide her with a life of indolence and luxury.” He sighed. “What did a rich boy like me have that could impress a middle-class businessman who had been a sergeant in the Army during Korea?”

  Frank stared at him, having no idea what his father was talking about. “Uh?”

  “Exactly! Nothing! So I spent twenty-four hours coming up with a business plan for a new medical device one of my old med school pals was inventing and got my foot in the door that way. Hell, I had no idea the damn thing would turn into my first independent million. I was just trying to clear the way to ask your mother’s hand in marriage. You know what a bastard your grandfather could be.”

  Frank’s jaw dropped as the penny dropped.

  His father nodded and smiled. “You’ve got to prove to him that you’re worth more than your money. I understand. Kaplan’s a good man, Francis. A little hyper. But damn smart, and that business plan of his might actually go somewhere, not that I know anything about video games or flying cars. It’s pretty clear that he adores you.”

  “No, wait, that’s not…. I mean—”

  “Kind of sweet of him to go through all this trouble, really. It’s not like I’m some Victorian about my children’s dating lives. Very romantic, though!” His father beamed, and Frank considered jumping out the window to escape. “So, you two have my blessing. Might want to keep it low-key until your sister’s campaign wraps up, especially since we have no idea how MudzNewz will take the fact that you are seeing someone.”

  “I’m… not?”

  His father gave him a long-suffering sigh. “Enough, Francis. Go away. You have my blessing, and I have work to do. Go enjoy your young man.”

  Struck dumb, Frank nodded and walked out. Benjamin jumped him. “What was that? Did you father say something about me?”

  Frank stared at Benjamin, completely at a loss.

  “He did! He thinks I’m crazy!”

  “No. No, that’s not true. It really was some family business. About, uh, about Nancy’s campaign. Nothing to worry about.”

  Benjamin was not buying it, but Frank distracted him by scheduling their next training flight. Frank wondered if Benjamin would be half as excited to have sex with him as he was about getting to fly again.

  Probably not.

  Chapter Fourteen

  BENJAMIN SPRAWLED out on his bed, staring at the ceiling, the most recent email from the Teague lead on repeat in his brain. They guy was certifiably Sanford Corsak, at least by all measures that black-hat hacker tactics could either prove or be believed. If he wasn’t, he was setting himself up for a world of hurt.

  Yeah, I get that you’re suspicious. I’m sure you get false positives all the time with these leads. So I was thinking, you know, maybe do a reverse con? I could go to Teague and blackmail him for money. Honestly I don’t need the money. My wife and I do okay these days, and she knows the whole story so it’s not a risk for me. I’m willing to go public, if we can prove that fucker did what he did. I’m out and proud about being bi, my church supports me, and anyway no one can smear my name more than I did when I was drunk and gambling and living in sin. I think Jesus would understand this is about making amends. I’m right with God, and getting the goods on Teague so he doesn’t get in office, man, that’s all I care about. Ping me yes or no.

  And so there he was, Benjamin Kaplan, nobody of nobodies, in line to get millions of dollars invested his business plans while orchestrating the blackmailing of a gubernatorial candidate. Because he was going to do both, there was no question in his mind, even if there was also some personal moral soul-searching going on. He had replied yes and then told Corsak to hold still while Benjamin figured out the logistics. He needed every step to be tracked and recorded, one way or another, in order for the scandal to stick.

  And it was nothing more than a scandal, but it would be enough, because technically Teague didn’t do anything illegal. He might get nailed in civil court if Frank decided to sue him after it all came out, but there was no criminal charge that Benjamin knew of that would hold against Teague. That didn’t matter, though, because it was the kind of scandal that would certainly crash Teague’s campaign.

  There would be fallout, though, and that was where Benjamin hesitated. It would put Frank’s discharge front and center, and possibly even dredge up his relationship history with Teague. The fact that he and Teague had been an item, and a long-term one at that, had been unexpectedly verified by Frank himself at that damn steak house, and Benjamin was pretty positive that Frank was bitter about the whole thing. It would drag all the dirty laundry of Frank’s past to light, and that was something Frank clearly was not interested in doing.

  There was also the fact that Teague would get outed himself, as a side effect. Benjamin usually shied away from outing anyone’s sexuality or kinks, but in this case it was all part of the package. The reason Teague wanted to destroy Frank’s career would have to be revealed for the whole plot to even make sense, because otherwise Frank was just a family acquaintance from way back.

  There was also the distant but real possibility that if Benjamin was ever linked to MudzNewz, it would throw a huge cloud of suspicion on his own motives for revealing the scandal.

  He tapped his fingers on his belly, considering the tangle he was slowly falling into. The wise choice would be to farm out or outright divest himself from MudzNewz, but he didn’t want to, at least not yet. He knew it was an emotional, sentimental decision based on the fact that he had started the site to get revenge on the man who hurt Rachel. That was long over and done with, and Lamarque was going to be in jail for many years. Benjamin did not even enjoy running the site anymore since it had become a thankless task that sucked up too much time and energy, and he had already developed a plan B to offload the whole site onto someone else. Nonetheless, Benjamin was having a hard time letting go of the project.

  He rolled over onto his stomach and hugged his pillow. He had slept alone since his parents died, and while he had done the whole hookup thing when he could, he was essentially permanently single, and, like all “parents” of any type, he was facing the fact that soon Rachel would probably be looking to move out. She had hinted at it a few times before, but the DUI crisis had put a stop to that. She was halfway to buying a used car, though, and if she thought that Benjamin did not know she and her latest boyfriend, Maddox, were getting serious, then she was living in denial. Between her business plans and the fact that she was going to be twenty-two in five months, Benjamin expected to be suffering from empty-nest syndrome within a year.

  And whatever Frank said about the matter, he was not exactly keeping it a secret that he was courting Benjamin in his very unsubtle way. That the steak house dinner had been a date in all but name did not escape Benjamin one little bit. Frank wanted Benjamin, and wanted to spend time with him no matter the reason why.

  The problem was, Benjamin wanted that too.

  He was nearing thirty, and for all his academic credentials and successful-ish projects and being the de facto parental figure for his sister, he sometimes felt trapped in a collegiate existence, eating too much ramen noodles and drinking cheap beer. He wanted to have something more in his life, things like a real long-term relationship, and vacations where he traveled to interesting places, and actual offices and staff for OTL Incorporated. Meals out at nice re
staurants more than once a year. A wardrobe built off more than charity resell-store stock. Time to fly, if he had the money.

  Like his parents, Benjamin had never wanted to be rich the way Frank Sheldon was. Rachel was the budding billionaire of the family line, and Benjamin would leave her to that kind of hardscrabble work. All he really wanted was the financial success to keep his personal projects going and live a comfortable, interesting life. His parents had done that much on a lot less, and they were the barometer by which he measured his goals.

  He continued staring at the ceiling, where the plaster had a minor crack and stains from water damage done three years ago during a severe rainstorm. Having the house reroofed had cost a lot and eaten up the money he had planned to use for his and Rachel’s annual vacation to New York City. He thought about the money he was getting under the guise of funding his video game, and what he could do with his flying cars project, and what it would mean in the long run: no more broken plaster. No places in the house that were filed under “to be fixed later” or “ignore forever until it breaks for real.” His plans had always been that the house, which was in a mixed-use neighborhood, would eventually be turned into the headquarters for OTL Inc., while he would buy a nice condo downtown for himself.

  So many plans, so little money. He figured selling the package deal for his flying car system would pay for all of that. He wondered what it must feel like to be Frank Sheldon, who never thought about where money came from or how much he had, spending it with the assumption that there would always be more. That much, at least, Benjamin was jealous of.

  He got up and padded into his study, trying to weave all the threads together, because obviously falling asleep at 1:00 a.m. was not happening. One thing was certain: if he was going to pawn MudzNewz off on a Mudzie, he needed to haunt the forum and find out who might be the ideal candidate.