White Space Season 1

of our bottomless wine cellar?” He laughed.
    Jon turned to Madge, put his hand gently on her shoulder, then said, “thank you.”
    Madge said, “Of course,” then left the foyer.
    Warren allowed a half-minute for Madge’s footsteps to fade to nothing, then turned to Jon and said, “You look, and smell, like you’re here to have one of those long chats where you do all of the talking, except for the few moments when you pause and wait for me to say, ‘I’m SO sorry, Jon! Whatever I’ve done to offend the everyman inside you, please forgive my trespasses.’ Not gonna happen.”
    Warren didn’t wait for Jon to respond. He said, “Follow me,” then disappeared down the hallway, expecting Jon to follow.
    Jon did, but it took everything inside him to keep his hands at his side, instead of pounding his knuckles into the back of his brother’s skull.
    When they reached the end of the corridor, Warren gestured toward the bookcase against the wall. It slid to the left with an almost elegant sounding whoosh, and revealed the open mouth of Warren’s office.
    Impressive. Last time Jon had been inside his brother’s office, the sliding bookcase had worked with an old fashioned remote, and it took nearly five seconds to fully open.
    The inside of Warren’s office was more impressive than the entrance, with exercise equipment, three wide work benches, and a long, circular desk with two dozen gleaming monitors making a mosaic on the wall behind it, all of them off.
    The bookshelf slid closed behind them, giving them privacy. Warren then turned to Jon and said, “What?”
    Jon wondered if he should start the conversation by making Warren eat a knuckle sandwich, but opted to impale him on the sharp end of a question instead.
    He took a step closer to Warren, staring him in the eye. “What happened with Sarah nine years ago? And don’t give me any of that ‘I don’t know’ shit. I want to know why I never knew about my baby, Warren. I want to know exactly what you did to make Sarah push me away!”
    Jon felt his eye start to twitch — the cost of keeping his rage at a boil and fists at his side.
    Warren laughed. “That? My God, Hamlet, you act like we’re in the third act of some great tragedy. That was nothing. She already hated you for fucking some model, so it didn’t take much to convince her she was better off without you.”
    Jon inhaled then exhaled, his labored breath falling from his mouth with the speed and rhythm of a rabid dying dog. He wondered if Warren realized how far he was pushing it.
    “Tell me what happened. Now.”
    “Simple,” he said. “Sarah and Cassidy.” Warren’s face twisted in mock confusion. “Cassidy is the trashy one, right? Sorry, I mean trashier.”
    Warren looked at Jon, waiting to see if he was going to strike. But Jon didn’t. Wouldn’t. Not yet, anyway.
    “Anyway,” Warren went on. “It turns out Cassidy was quite the pill popper. And like most pill poppers, she had a run in with Johnny Law. The old Johnny, not the new one.” Warren winked. “As you well know, charges at a police station are like charges on your credit card. If you pay them immediately, they go right away.” Warren shrugged his shoulders. “We made a fair trade. Sarah kept her mouth shut about the baby, and the junkie got all of her charges dropped, and we sent her to one of those nice dry-out places you Hollywood types love so much. A good, or even great deal for her, considering. If memory serves, we spent around a grand a day to flush her out. As you can imagine, she was there for quite a while.” He shook his head. “And really, Jon. You should’ve seen the mile of charges.” Warren dropped his voice to a whisper. “Some of the charges might surprise you. You sure you want to hear this?”
    Jon’s fingernails were deep enough into his palm to dig blood, but he wasn’t sure whether the slick on his skin was blood or sweat. “My life is not a piece on a board for you to move around.” He stepped toward Warren, teeth clenched.
    Warren’s eyes widened, broadcasting fear for the first time. He retreated a step; Jon took one more forward.
    “What are you afraid of, Warren?”
    “Calm down,” he said, holding his palms out in front of his body. “Just calm down.”
    Jon spoke, slightly above a whisper. “You have no idea how calm I am. If I wasn’t calm I would have already delivered your head to Madge on my way out the front door, apologizing a final time for a mess I was