Page 64 of Expecting an Argument
“He sent me to the best football camps every summer, but he was the first one to teach me how to throw a ball,” Beau said. “It became obvious when I was in middle school that he wanted to give me an ‘out,’ an opportunity to be something other than just a Fontaine heir. Our dream was for me to be quarterback for the Crimson Knights, then go pro, then come back to the company when Dad was ready to retire.”
I never knew much about football other than what I could pick up between plays before chomping on my clarinet reed and playing the Elren High fight song. Going to the state championship game senior year had been a big deal, and even though I had hated to admit it, Beau was the main reason theOilers got that far.
He was big, strong, rich, and talented—even when we were teenagers. There wasn’t a single person in school who didn’t envy him.
Beau released his grip on the dresser, abandoning his anchor, and paced in front of the footboard. He raked back his hair as his lips twitched, silently practicing his next words.
“Dad said he’d be at the gulf during the semifinals game senior year,” he said quickly, as if he had to force it out. “He told me if we won, he’d be at the front row of the championship game. All his recruiter friends from the state colleges would be there too. We’d finally get to have our dream.”
I smiled. “I remember the semifinals game. You threw the football sixty yards for that final touchdown.” My eyes dropped to my hands on my belly, but I couldn’t banish my smile. “I had no idea how you’d done it—throwing a ball so far for someone to catch itjustin time.”
Heat creeped across my cheeks. Was I really bragging on him?
The floorboards stopped creaking under his feet and I looked up. He had stopped pacing and looked back at me with a crooked smile.
“I had to win,” he responded.
He held his breath and started to pace again. “The team went out for a late-night dinner to celebrate after the game. When I got back to the house…”
He chewed on his lip. “I just remember hearing a horrible banging noise upstairs as soon as I walked into the kitchen. Then screaming. I sprinted up the stairs and…”
My stomach knotted as Beau clenched his jaw. His hand wrapped around the corner of the footboard and he held on for a few heartbeats.
“I found Mom,” he said as he looked at the floor. “She wasin their room, whacking at the marital bed with an ax and screaming ‘He’s gone, he’s gone…’”
I glanced at the wall of pictures of Beau’s father. Beau wasn’t making sense. He said his father was still the CEO of Fontaine Energy. Beau’s parents divorcing would have been such a big scandal everyone across the state would have heard about it.
“Gone?” I asked. “What do you mean?”
Beau let go of the footboard and threw out his hands. “You tell me, Olivia. You love a good story. What does it mean when a rich man is gone?”
I bit my lip as my mind ran through every salacious documentary I ever watched, every thriller I ever read, and every juicy rumor about the Fontaines I had ever heard. I combined all the tales of broken families and the rot of wealth into three theories.
“Well,” I said quietly. “He could have had an affair…”
Beau’s eyebrows raised and a tight smile pulled on his lips. “Come on, you can do better than that.”
“He…he committed a horrible crime and fled to another country. Or—”
“Don’t be bashful now,” he said with a sad gleam across his eyes. “Just tell me what you think.”
Slowly, I looked up at the photo of Beau’s grandfather—the man who built and funded the Fontaine Family Center, whose name was on multiple buildings in town, and who supplied massive endowments to Lindsay University. The man was a giant, and anyone following him would stumble in the craters of his footsteps.
“Or…he wanted an ‘out,’ too,” I said.
Beau nodded. “That’s similar to my theory.”
I furrowed my brows. “Wait…you don’t know?”
He shook his head. “Mom won’t tell me. I’ve begged and begged but…”
His hand curled into a fist and he lightly tapped the top of the footboard. “When you run a family company, the family has to stay intact. Otherwise, cracks in the foundation send the entire house crumbling down. Regardless of what happened between my parents…they stayed married. Couldn’t risk filing for divorce and everyone in town speculating how the company’s assets would get split since my dad was the only known heir to the company at the time.”
“I thought you had an aunt?”
“Aunt Liz is my mom’s sister,” Beau said. “Dad does have an older sister, but she took an oath of poverty and runs an elephant sanctuary. She’s not part of the business or the family estate.”
Another Fontaine who wanted out.
