Draining the Ocean - Prologue. Retirement

October 17th, 2024

While it was his birthday, it wasn’t a happy day. He was only sixty-eight but felt as if his life was over as he looked around the office that had been his home for over four decades. The man had a house, a very nice house, but he spent as little time there as possible. The fifty-sixth floor corner office was the only place he was even remotely happy. Perhaps more than most men, John Renkin felt worthless and lost outside his professional domain.

The investment savant had begrudgingly agreed to the succession plan over a decade before. He had been dreading this eventuality from the moment he had signed the binding document before the board to avoid an even more hostile takeover of the firm he built.

“The movers are here, sir.” There was a time when the young man’s voice would have made his heart race like many of his predecessors’ voices had, but now the youthful yet virile zest for life simply filled John’s thoughts with regret.

His head turned from the stripped space to see his former assistant standing in the doorway with a respectful but unaffected expression. The young man was painfully handsome. That had always been a pre-requisite of the job. John knew people talked, and for good reason, although he hadn’t broken his rules in years.

“Thank you, Mr. Fabian. I have everything boxed and ready.” In the end, he couldn't bear to bring his finished work life home; the movers were being paid to deliver all that made him feel successful to a mini-storage facility in Kenwood.

While his four-story brownstone was in Lincoln Park, John’s daughter lived and worked in Kenwood. She rarely spoke to him, but there were plenty of good reasons for that fact as well. He had chosen his own emotional survival over his kids when they were both young. His wife won both the house and kids even though they had never divorced or even separated.

The kids didn’t talk to their mother, Rebecca either.

John felt his heartrate quicken as anger and self-hatred flooded his mind. It was no longer possible to bury the familiar emotions beneath growing balance sheets and rising sparklines. The mover’s sudden entrance added a staggering feeling of personal loss.

He thought about commanding them to be careful with his expensive furniture but decided it didn’t really matter. He would likely never use any of it again and had no one to leave it to that wouldn't want to burn it. He abandoned his daughter and son, forcing them to endure their mother alone. He didn't blame them for abandoning him in return.

“John! I’m glad I caught you before you left.” Harvey Marek didn’t sound glad.

Harvey joined the firm straight out of college, working his way up from a junior investor in the early nineties to John’s second only a few years later.

“I’ve always been willing to work to get what I want,” the once young man had said moments before baring far more than his ample ambition to his boss.

John had offered Harvey almost everything as his lust slowly turned to something close to love. The younger man didn’t want love or even lust. He wanted money and power, eventually demanding both as the price for his silence in a world increasingly, and rightfully, concerned about sexual impropriety. Fortunately, Harvey was a talented investor, making his meteoric rise to prominence in the firm easy enough to justify.

“Take care of my firm, Harvey.” John requested in quiet resignation.

“Goodbye, John.” Harvey respected what John Renkin had built, and as much as he was loath to admit it, he was grateful for the knowledge and opportunities the man’s weakness had provided him. “Your company and your secrets are in good hands.”

John felt small and dirty as Harvey’s eyes moved between him and his assistant. The man’s knowing leer made it clear he believed Mr. Fabian did more for John than answer his phone and manage his calendar. As much as he would miss the firm, he wouldn’t miss Harvey who had become almost as unbearable as his wife. The now-retired entrepreneur slipped into his jacket, the expensive, tailored cut doing little to improve the man's defeated form.

He would have been lost, if it hadn’t been Thursday. John stepped out of the office that no longer belonged to him. As much as he dreaded his upcoming appointment, it did give him some place to be. Better yet, it was an excuse to possibly catch a glimpse of his daughter who worked in the same building as the quack he had chosen to meet the terms of her ultimatum.

"Learn to be honest with yourself and the world around you,” she had said, hinting that he had at least a small chance to be a part of her life once more.

Her implied promise was all he had beyond unspendable wealth. Of course, Mary didn’t know the worst of his dark secrets or the depth of his failures. John knew his daughter wouldn’t have given him that small hope if she did.