DISCLAIMER: Foul language to be sure. Private family matters of a sexual nature. Violence. Sex of assorted varieties. Did I mention violence? Rich people, poor people, smart people, stupid people, and other people. If you like my writing then give it a chance.

FEEDBACK: Love it? Hate it? Want the t-shirt? Let me know what you think p.phair@comcast.net

AYER IS HUMAN

by phair

Chapter 4

December 31, 1999

Officer Denton and his prisoner approached the ancient hard wood bench backed up to the wall across from the equally antiqued booking desk. The bench's sole occupant glanced up at them. The girl, not much older than Sage, bit her lip as if making an appraisal then gave a grin and a wink. Uncomfortable under such intense scrutiny, Sage squirmed in the cop's bony grasp.

"You wouldn't be trying to get away now, would you?" The cocky cop asked.

Sage just shook her head.

He smiled a yellow toothed smile. "Good thing 'cause otherwise I'd have to make sure I hurt you something awful."

With that said, he shoved her down on the bench. He leaned over her to fasten the handcuffs to a metal bar bolted to the wall behind the bench. Sage tried to duck her head out of his way but only succeeded in getting caught under a sweaty, garlic smelling armpit.

"Hold still, Stupid," he hissed under his breath.

The pull on Sage's arms increased as the cop tried to make his point felt if not heard. Sage forced herself to relax and let him push and shove her anyway he wanted. There was nothing she could do. Chained as she was, she couldn't get away. Even if she got away from garlic boy there were dozens of other blue suited individuals standing around who, she was certain, would be more than happy to shoot her to end any kind of escape attempt.

The tension on her arms finally eased. Officer Denton stood up and backed up a step or two. His smirk grew as he adjusted his thick black belt and puffed up his chest.

"Anytime you want to start cooperating with us, you just give a little whistle."

Each word was spoken with a slight bob of his head. He acted as if he alone possessed some secret knowledge. Officer Denton was obviously quite pleased about something but Sage wasn't even remotely interested in his secret. She sat back against the grimy wood and closed her eyes to shut him out.

"What about me?" The girl at the other end of the bench spoke up. "You waiting for me to start cooperating too, Dented?"

Sage opened her eyes in time to see Denton grab the girl by the shirt front. He dragged her half way up to meet his sneering face. The chain pulled taunt against the girl's handcuffs, anchoring her in place.

"You should start shutting up for a change, Bitch. Otherwise, somebody's gonna have to show you some manners."

"Oh, I got manners. Plenty of manners, Sir. See, I haven't kneed you in the nuts yet."

Denton let out a strangled cough as he released the girl. He doubled over to grab his bruised crotch. The cops standing around started to jeer at their stricken comrade while the girl grinned happily and wiggled herself back into her seat.

"That's enough!" The desk sergeant hollered without lifting her head up from her filing. "Everybody back to work. Denton, I can't believe you didn't see that one coming. You're a fuckin' embarrassment. Go get some ice or something and stop bothering the kiddies."

Denton pulled himself together enough to get up from the floor. He straightened up slightly but couldn't manage to square his shoulders. Giving one last growl toward the smug girl on the bench, he made his way to the locker room.

"That never gets old," the girl giggled softly before turning toward Sage. "So, what's your story?"

Sage did not reply. Instead, she rested her head against the wall to try to find some smidgen of comfort where there was none to be found. Having done the best she could to take some ease, she closed her eyes again.

"Okay, strong and silent. I can relate. I'm short and mouthy. We all got a stereotype to play. No problem. I'll get the ball rolling. Just remember, 5 - 0 got them big ears so don't cop to nothin' 'less you want to pull down more time at juvie. You are juvie bound, right?"

She fell silent for a moment. Sage hoped the blessed quiet would last a while but today was not her lucky day.

"I'm guessing you're 'bout sixteen. Right? Tell me if I'm right. Come on, I'll tell you. Okay, I'm almost sixteen myself. So, fifteen and a half if you want to get technical. I'm guessing you're older but you're tall so I might be off by a year or two. Anyway, my name's Tristan. They allege I stole a car and vandalized private property. And, that would be a horrible thing to do, right? So, I wouldn't be likely to something like that. Nope, not me. Even if the creep deserved it. Like, if he got that nice ride and fancy blingbling by selling crack to kids and whores. Nope, I doubt I'd be so petty as to drive his car into the harbor with that trunk load of poison and a suitcase in the back seat filled with stolen jewelry. Guys shouldn't were jewelry anyway. But, I doubt I'd be that vindictive…so what did you allegedly do?"

Sage's eyes burned from lack of sleep. She realized the girl had stopped talking again. She hoped the respite would last longer this time.

"Shy? You're shy, aren't you? That's okay. I can fill in the time by myself. There are a million things running through my head. You just rest up there and I'll entertain you. Okay, let's see…where did I leave off…right, my alleged crime is totally bogus. First of all, wouldn't he need to really own the car before he could report it stolen? I'm no snitch but Bid Bad Bebo borrowed, and I'm using the liberal definition of the word, that car from one of his customers while the guy's in the hospital. Seems, his back somehow got broken…or so the story goes…anyway…"

"Would you PLEASE shut UP!"

Sage didn't mean to shout. Her anger seemed to build with every word out to the girl's mouth. It was an endless stream of meaningless words about people Sage would never care about. As she stared at the startled young woman, Sage felt her heart racing in her chest. Her breath was coming in panting gasps. She was very angry. It suddenly struck Sage that she was glad she was chain to the wall. Otherwise, she might have done something terrible to the annoying girl next to her.

"Well," Tristan noticeably swallowed before she replied, "all you had to do was ask."

Sage gave a small sigh. She settled back to try to find that one position which was not entirely miserable. Her eyes drifted closed as her body relaxed once more. Peace and quiet prevailed…for a moment.

"I mean, I'm not one to go on and on and on endlessly. All you need to do is ask nice. Something like, 'Tristan, could you, perhaps, give me a moment' or something like that. See, if you let me know you have something on your mind then I'm one hundred percent with you. Not a peep, nothing, to disturb you. What is it? Worried? Oh, need a lawyer? That's it, right? Tell me I'm right. Your parents can't afford a quality guy, right? Not to worry. Get your folks to file a CHINS on you. Then they can get you your own lawyer and they don't need to foot the bill. You'll get sprung and they'll be glad to dodge the bill. See, I don't got to worry about stuff like that. My Mom's got nothing so they just give me a lawyer. Mom doesn't even have to show up. She usually doesn't. This time might be a little more complicated 'cause it was her old man's car but…"

"Can't you give me a break?" Sage hissed as she lurched toward her tormentor.

Tristan scooted as far away from her irritated bench mate as she could. "Hold on now; don't do anything to get yourself in any deeper."

"Allegedly deeper," Sage growled through clenched teeth as she strained to get closer to Tristan.

"Whoa, whoa, what you gonna do? Bite me?"

The obvious panic in Tristan's voice made Sage grin. It was not a pleasant grin.

"I was thinking about a head butt."

Tristan flinched on the final 't.' "And, what will that accomplish? Nothing but a headache for two."

"If it'll shut you up then it's totally worth the pain."

"Shut up? That's all you want? I can shut up…see…" Tristan pressed her lips together hard to demonstrate.

Sage eased off a bit. She paused then went back to her previous position. Her eyes close once more. A deep breath calmed her and slowed her raging pulse.

"I'm willing to shut up but I need something from you…" Tristan whispered.

Sage's eyes snapped open and she bared her teeth at the other girl. Tristan didn't flinch this time. In fact, she edged a little closer to Sage. Closing the distance, she gave a wink. It was the wink of a proposition.

"Tell me your name."

"Why?" Sage was confused by the girl's sudden confident manner.

Tristan glanced over to the booking sergeant who was nose deep in a dirty paperback, "In addition to being an alleged car thief, I'm a professional snitch. Ines will take care of me if I deliver your name."

Sage sneered in disgust. Before she could state her thoughts on the revelation, Tristan continued, "Look, they're gonna find out soon enough. You're so green you don't even know that much about the system. I'm not givin' them nothing they won't find out in the next couple of days. Give this one thing up. It'll get your ass off this bench and get you into a warm bed down at juvie. And, I get my due."

"And, what's your due?" Sage questioned with more than a hint of anger in her tone.

"I walk. They lose the paperwork. I skate on this one. Don't worry. They'll pick me up before the end of the week on something else. Trust me, Ines already knows what she's gonna charge me with next."

Sage asked, "So, what's the point?"

"I got to take care of something. Need a few days to put it all together. I'm going down until I'm eighteen on the next bust. No way out of it, this time," Tristan was resigned to her fate.

"You just need to get your affairs in order," Sage restated Tristan's dilemma.

Tristan gave a gentle nod, "That's the gist of it."

"Forget it," Sage turned away from the girl. "Find somebody else to rat out."

"For Christ's sake, they're gonna find out anyway. Let me have this one thing. What difference could it possibly make to you?" Tristan let her anger flare.

Sage sat in simmering silence.

The door to the police station banged open with a blast of cold air. A man in a black cape hustled inside. Sage recognized Mr. Matthews before she saw the flash of pink lining. A second man, considerably older, stepped in and looked around while Mr. Matthews shut the door. She had no time to duck her head before J. Granville Sebastian locked his gaze on her.

"Oh God," he shouted in a hoarse voice.

"Shit," Sage cursed.

"Sage, my Sage, thank God," J. Granville offered the prayer aloud for all to hear.

He crossed the room in three steps. The old man stunned Sage by dropping to his knees. He rested his forehead on her knees and proceeded to sob. Sage was horrified by his open display of emotion. Never in her life had she witnessed either of her parents lose their composure. It just wasn't done. The old man looked up at her in awe. His hands immediately began to reverently stroke her face.

"It's alright, we'll take care of everything, don't worry,…" he repeated over and over.

Ines side stepped Mr. Matthews to approach the prisoners' bench. "May I ask, what the Hell is going on out here?"

"He's her Dad or her granddad or something…her name is Sage…Batman there is with them," Tristan started rattle off as she pulled wildly against her restraints. "Her name's Sage. I found out for you. I was just gonna signal the desk jockey to get you. Sage, that's her name. The old guy's her dad or granddad and the other guy is…I don't know a magician…something…I kept my end up…"

"Your end's up alright." Ines raised her hand to stop Tristan's prattle. "Denton, get your ass out here and escort Ayer to juvie. She's got to get her sleep for court tomorrow."

"No, don't. Wait! We had a deal. I got her name for you," Tristan babbled onward.

"Yep, moments after everybody got her name you were right there repeating it. Come on, be a good girl. We got a nice long ride ahead of us," Denton ended his request with a wink.

"Come on, I just got the name…give me a chance here. You said, you'd help me," Tristan was desperately arguing as Denton released her from the bench.

"Get her out of here," Ines waved the pair away unimpressed. "Okay, who wants to fill me in on the family reunion?"

Mr. Matthews stepped forward. "I'm Mr. Sebastian's personal attorney. It seems one of our overactive security officers inadvertently interfered with a private family matter."

"Not so private. Breaking the law is a public safety issue. This girl racked up a number of very serious charges; theft, trespassing, B&E, resisting arrest, failure to identify herself," Ines ticked off the items on her fingers as she listed each one.

"If the original charges, trespassing and theft, are without merit then none of the following charges apply," Mr. Matthews stated simply. "The hotel belongs to the Sebastian family so it is quite impossible for Sage to trespass. The food items identified as stolen were bought by me for her. So, there is no theft."

Ines gave a weary sigh as she reached for her keys. She moved beside the bench and gently pushed Sage forward. With two clicks, the handcuffs were removed.

Mr. Matthews helped Mr. Sebastian to his feet. The pair stood waiting for Sage to get up. Sage rubbed her wrists and thought about making a break for the door.

"If I were you, I'd go home with this very reasonable father of yours," Ines advised.

"He's not…,"

"As your attorney, I think that is the best decision you could make under the circumstances." Mr. Matthews went on to note, "I mean, who knows what other charges the police could file against you. It might take a week or two for me to get those kinds of problems cleared up."

Sage stared her father. In spite of his pale features, his focus was strong and unapologetic. She knew he'd play hard ball with her if he felt he had no other option. Sage nodded her agreement. Both men relaxed. Sage had not realized until that moment how nervous they both were.

Sage stood with them but waited for one of them to lead her. Mr. Matthews obliged her silent request and moved toward the door. Sage fell into step behind him. J. Granville lingered a minute then filled in the last place of their measly parade.

Sage shivered against the cold as she descended the steps of the police station. Her foot slipped slightly but before she could grab the railing, J. Granville wrapped his arm around her waist. He tugged her close for the final three granite stairs. The town car's rear door was opened by a familiar bulky shape. Sage didn't acknowledge the man when she climbed inside. J. Granville followed right after her but Mr. Matthews did not join them. The door shut with a forceful thud.

"I don't want to go to your house," Sage spat out.

"Okay."

Silence hung heavy as the car slid away from the curb.

"Okay?"

J. Granville nodded.

Sage had not expected him to agree. "I want to go back to the hotel."

"Okay."

Sage asked in disbelief, "Just like that. You're gonna let me go back to my crawl space?"

"No," J. Granville took her hand in his own very cold hand. "You'll stay in the Penthouse. The rooms were made ready for you once we found out you were hiding…"

"I wasn't hiding…" Sage was indignant.

"…okay, when we found out you were living in the abandoned draft room in the basement."

Sage turned away from him and stared out the window. They had been watching out for her. The guy with the cape made sure she got fed. She wondered how any of them could care about her after what she did to Brook. She knew it was futile but she needed to apologize. It was the least she could do considering the magnitude of her true crime.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry, I killed Brook."

"What?" J. Granville sounded so stunned that Sage had to face him. "Is that what you think? Sage, Brook isn't dead. She's been home for weeks. She'll be at the Penthouse when we get there."

"She's alright?" Sage blinked in disbelief.

J. Granville shrugged, "She's been worried sick about you but she recovered form the accident, if that's what you mean?"

Sage could only nod. Everything she believed for the last seven months was wrong. She was suffering and alone for all those sleepless nights and horrible days for no reason.

For the first time in a very long time, Sage wept.

Chapter 5

January 1, 2000

Sage pulled herself out of the oversized Jacuzzi tub for the third and last time. She spent the past few hours washing and soaking in the penthouse's master bathroom. The dirt and filth which was caked onto her skin took several rounds of scrubbing, rinsing, more scrubbing, and more rinsing before it was reduced to nothing but a fading ring around the drain.

Standing with steam wafting from her superheated body, Sage stared closely at her battered, pruned skinned reflection. She grimly assessed her physical state in the floor length mirror covering one wall. Her body told the tale of her days on the run. The skin was littered with bruises and cuts and blisters and, somehow, seemed withered and grayed. Seeing herself for the first time in a long time, Sage understood her doctor's reticent manner during the physical evaluation earlier in the evening. She suddenly realized she was lucky Dr. Tsu didn't put her in the hospital.

Dr. Tsu, the family physician, was waiting in the penthouse when Sage and J. Granville arrived. Neither adult would allow Sage to bathe or eat prior to a medical exam. J. Granville was stubbornly determined to make sure Sage was healthy in spite of the teen's sullen disapproval. Sage reluctantly agreed after a bit of coaxing from the physician.

Dr. Tsu, a petite forty-ish woman, always maintained a high degree of professionalism. Tonight was no exception. She assisted Sage in removing her foul clothes and helped her trim the hopeless snarls from her stringy, matted hair without the slightest hint of repulsion. It was supremely quiet during the exam. Dr. Tsu kept her directions to one or two words. There were no prying questions or admonitions for which Sage was truly grateful.

"You seem well enough but undernourished and, perhaps, a bit dehydrated," Dr. Tsu said as she packed three vials of freshly drawn blood into an igloo ice chest. "You should wash up. Get as clean as you can. I'm going to write some prescriptions; antibiotics, antifungals, antibacterial creams. The concierge should be able to get them delivered before you're finished bathing. You'll need to come into the office, of course, for a more thorough exam. We can arrange that tomorrow." The doctor paused before leaving the master bedroom as if considering what she would say next. "Sage, if there is anything I can do to help you, anything you can't go to your parents with, then call my cell."

Sage merely nodded and never made eye contact.

Now, hours later, Sage stood cleanly naked and very cold staring at the stranger she had become to herself. Shaking off the shiver settling around her rapidly chilling body, Sage grabbed the hotel issued bathrobe. Her clothes were long gone and most likely burned by now. The soft, bulky, warm cotton robe would have to do.

Sage exited the bathroom with a puff of steam announcing her entrance into the much cooler master bedroom. The enormous yet tastefully decorated room was dimly lit. Sage looked first to the empty but turned down king-sized bed awaiting her arrival. Then she turned to face the woman sitting in the darker end of the room on a plush couch.

"I don't want to talk to you," Sage stated with youthful defiance.

Simone smoothed her skirt and tucked her legs under her; settling into the sofa. She didn't immediately reply. Her continued silence began to unnerve Sage.

"Didn't you hear me? I said, 'I don't want to talk to you,'" Sage repeated as she took three menacing steps toward the seating area.

Simone nodded agreement without argument. She gestured to an array of covered plates and bowls on the low coffee table before her. A small army of prescription bottles stood lined along the edge of the heavy oak table. After Sage took three more steps closer to the food, Simone pulled out a paperback book from under the folds of material at her thigh. Without a word, she flipped it open and leaned further back into the comfort of the settee then began to read in the muted light.

"Why are you still sitting there?" Sage shouted.

Simone lowered the book and looked directly at Sage. Their eyes locked. Simone's eyes filled with tears but she did not cry them.

"You said, you did not want to talk to me yet you continue to ask me questions." Simone gave a small smile, "You need to make up your mind, Dear, about what you really want."

Sage was furious. She was ready to unleash her anger in a string of obscenities and accusations until her stomach growled. It was a vengeful rumble. The hunger she had suppressed for months and months would no longer be ignored with food so near.

The pain was like a physical blow to her gut. Her resolve crumbled and she staggered slightly. Her hands clutched at her empty belly.

Simone was on her feet in seconds. She wrapped her arms around Sage and guided her to the sofa. She eased both of them to the cushions without releasing her grip on Sage. The girl was too weak to fight off the help in spite of her simmering anger. Sage finally curled into the embrace and rested her head on the shoulder she had long thought of as her mother's.

"I still don't want to talk to you," Sage mumbled.

"Fine. We won't talk. But, you need to eat. Do you want me to feed you?"

Sage struggled with her emotions for a few moments but her hunger won out. She meekly nodded her head.

Simone snagged a ceramic mug from the table as she shifted both of them like they were connected at the hip. She managed to tip the plastic lid off the top with just her thumb. Sage jump slightly as the broth touched her lips.

"Hot?" Simone asked.

Sage shook her head and murmured before her next sip, "Salty."

They stayed quiet, unmoving, until the cup was emptied. Sage gave a small burp prompting Simone to rub her back in large, firm circles. A bigger burp followed.

"I'm tired," Sage's voice was thick with fatigue.

Simone nodded. "I'll help you into bed."

"No." Sage tightened her fragile hold on the woman, "Stay here. No more running tonight. Stay right here."

"My Sage," she murmured like a prayer, "my sweet child, is home. I promise I'll make everything all right again."

Simone's tears finally broke free.

* * *

January 1, 2008

Sage stood back from the half chiseled stone. Walking in a full circle around the white marble, she chewed her lip as she appraised the creature trying to pull itself free from the block. She nervously tapped the hammer against her thigh trying to decide where to chip next.

"That is one angry looking lion," Brook said as she crossed the empty space from the front door. "I buzzed from the lobby; you must've been so busy you didn't hear."

She deposited a bag of groceries on the butcher block in the center of a haphazard semi circle of appliances which served as a make shift kitchen.

"It's a gargoyle and," Sage did not turn to answer or face Brook as the woman approached her, "I did hear the buzzer. You should know by now I won't stop working just because of uninvited guests."

Brook ignored the comment. She gave a quick kiss to Sage's cheek before circling the sculpture herself. She came to a stop directly across from Sage.

"It's lovely."

"Not done," Sage was gruff in her reply.

Brook shook her head. "Doesn't matter. It's beautiful."

Sage shrugged and lifted her chisel to begin chipping again.

"Wait. Dad is on his way up here. He wants to talk to you," Brook interrupted.

Sage gave a heavy sigh. She dropped her hammer on the hardwood floor. The thud echoed in the gutted penthouse.

"What if I don't want to talk to him?"

"Then you can show some courage and tell him to his face," the old man's voice rumbled from across the room.

"You know, most people call before visiting," Sage replied as she turned her back on Brook to face J. Granville.

He grinned and grabbed her into a forceful hug. The gesture was not reciprocated. J. Granville chose to ignore the snub.

"Beautiful piece you've got there," he said when he stepped away from Sage.

"Just tell me what you want so I can get back to it," Sage demanded.

J. Granville didn't answer. He inspected the stone. Reaching out, he let his index finger detail the furrows cut into the surface. He seemed oblivious to the white dust settling on his fine black suit.

"I want you to carve the corner stones for the harbor side of the hotel," he finally stated.

Sage could not contain her surprise. "What?"

"The restoration of the dome is finished with the exception of the upper eastern, north and south corner stones. The solid blocks which were there prior cracked during the cleaning process." He smiled at Sage, "If anyone deserves to cut their vision into the future of this building, it's you."

"Sage, you love this building. It's your home. You should be the artist to mark it," Brook encouraged.

Sage sneered at the pair, "What's the catch? You know I would jump at the chance to carve the stones but both of you wouldn't come here with groceries just to 'let' me do it. What's the deal?"

"We have to do a press conference together, as a family," J. Granville explained.

"No way," Sage shook her head. "I don’t do those freak shows. And, I'm not gonna stand up there pretending we're one big happy family when we're one big fucked up family. Find somebody else."

J. Granville extended his hand toward Brook. "Let's go. I tried. Told you she wouldn't do it."

"Wait," Brook stepped between the pair. "Dad, the only artist you've considered for this project is Sage. You've been talking about it for weeks. Don't give up on her yet. And Sage, admit it, you want to do this. You're both going to have to compromise or everybody loses.'

"She can do any design she wants," J. Granville stated. "She doesn't even need to show it to me first."

Sage stood stunned at the offer.

"Sage, what will you compromise for total artistic freedom?" Brook questioned.

"What is so fucking important about a press conference?"

J. Granville cleared his throat before answering, "You're the only one of my children…"

"I am not…" Sage was ready to explode.

"For God's sake, just hear me out!" J. Granville waited a moment to make sure Sage would remain quiet. "All the others have already worked on projects with me. Cade's my VP of OP's for future development. Gareth and Child-Hassam oversaw the stadium in Chicago. Brook designed the new wing at Children's Hospital. Before he got sick, Endicott and I renovated the house on the cape together. There are questions and rumors flying around why you haven't been involved with the family business or charity events or fucking Christmas dinner!"

"Dad," Brook wanted to calm the man's rising temper.

"No, Brook, I'm going to have my say. It has been eight years of walking on egg shells. We've given her everything she asked for; turning the penthouse into cavern, tutors instead of school, unlimited expense account. Yet, she continues to keep us at arm's length while we worry one wrong word will send her running off again. It doesn't matter how much we give her or how much we apologize. None of it has helped us move beyond that one mistake made out of love for both of you!" J. Granville turned his attention on Sage, "You need to decide today! Are you so angry and hateful that you would throw away the very people who love you so much…it hurts…" his tears ended the tirade.

Sage, unsure what to do, watched as Brook went to her father's side to steady him in the wake of his fury.

"I won't ask you again. This is the last olive branch I'll offer you," J. Granville muttered.

Sage felt her cheeks flush with shame at the revelation of pain her behavior had caused the man. In truth, he was as much of a victim of circumstance as Sage was. Her anger was misdirected and it had been for years.

"I can't," Sage paused to gather her thoughts, "I can't promise I won't fuck it up." After a moment of silence, she went on to clarify, "The press conference, I mean. I've never done one or really watched one so I don't know what to do."

"Stand there, beside Dad. You don't even need to smile," Brook explained. "I'll be right next to you."

Sage shook her head slightly, "No, Simone…Mom should stand there with me otherwise there'll be more rumors to deal with."

J. Granville mopped his eyes and nose with a freshly starched handkerchief. "Good suggestion. I'll send a courier over with plans for the eastern facade and specifics about the press conference. Any questions you have about protocol or…anything, you can call me or Brook or your mother."

The trio waited in the echo of the lie for the right words to speak but none of them could think of something profound enough to lift them above it. Finally, Brook broke the stand off.

"We'll go now and let you get back to your work."

Sage simply replied, "Good."

Chapter 6

"Why would any sane person think this is an important news story?" Sage grumbled.

Her eyes were fixed on the ballroom's monitor in the back staging area. The gaggle of reporters gathered was much larger than she expected. Her nerves were fraying at the very sight of them even with most of the Sebastian clan surrounding her; protecting her. She was growing more unsure by the moment as to how she would handle facing the mob with only J. Granville and Simone at her elbows.

"Don't look so worried," one half of the twin middle brothers, Child-Hassam, advised. "It fires them up into a pack mentality."

The other half, Cade, chuckled right on cue. He called his clarification to the remark from the bar across the room.

"Don't listen to him, babe. Reporters are more like sharks. Fear is like blood for them. If they smell your fear then it's going to be a wild feeding frenzy."

"That's enough," Simone pushed past the ever silent, brooding elder brother Gareth, to take Sage by the shoulders. "They're teasing you, sweetheart. Ignore them."

Sage tried to swallow down her mounting panic. She let Simone fuss with her clothes. The older woman's quiet approval reassured her.

"I would not have picked this blouse out for you but I do like it," Simone said as she adjusted the upturned collar of Sage's black shirt.

"Look," J. Granville sounded quite unhappy, "if I say the dungarees and sneakers are perfect will you take the du-rag off?"

Simone smirked at Sage, "Listen to your father getting down with his bad self."

Brook and the boys tried to suppress their laughs. They had little success in the endeavor. Simone let them have their fun for a few minutes before bringing the family to order.

"I hate to admit it but Cade is right. Reporters are little more than vultures who thrive on fear, other people's fear. Don't let them see how frightened you are," Simone advised as she ran her finger tips lightly up and down Sage's trembling arms.

"How?" Sage heard her voice quiver.

J. Granville cleared his own throat, "Instead of imagining them naked, why don't you pretend they're all me? That usually gives you the bad assed look I've come to expect from you."

Sage shot him a sour gaze.

"There's my girl, just do that."

The five minute warning knock at the door stopped any escalation of the exchange into a full fledged fight. Simone took Sage's hand and led her across the room to J. Granville.

"Take your father's arm, Dear. Lean on him this once," Simone directed but Sage understood it was a request.

With a dramatic sigh, Sage obeyed.

* * *

"…and so, after ten years," the power point program flashed a dated black and white photograph of the hotel on the wall sized screen to the left of where J. Granville stood at the podium, "and a couple of hundred bucks," he paused for the light laughter which politely followed, "the Harbor Bostonian Hotel enters its final stage of the renovation project. I am happy to announce the enhancement of the eastern façade will begin in March. The damaged upper cornerstones will be replaced with sculptures which befit such a venerable architectural treasure as HBH is."

The photograph morphed into a full color current photograph. The pictured faded and refreshed with another angle of the building only to fade and be refreshed again with an ever changing perspective. Even from the still images, the hotel's grandeur shined bright. The crowd broke into spontaneous applause when the restored dome appeared in all its gilded glory.

"As pleased as I am with the results of our efforts, it is only a small fraction of the joy I feel introducing the artist whose hands will render the sculptures," J. Granville paused more to control his emotions than for dramatic license. "Ladies and Gentlemen, would you please welcome the artist ArtBoston called the Next Best Thing 2007, Mass Art blessed as The Name to Buy 2008, and who's first gallery engagement last month sold out all thirty pieces in less than thirty minutes. It is with no small amount of pride, I introduce to you my daughter, Sage Sebastian."

Sage's attention was so centered on J. Granville she barely noticed the applause or snapping camera flashes. J. Granville turned away from the podium and wrapped her in a bear hug. The man was softly weeping. She had no idea what to do. Simone's hand on her shoulder balanced her.

"I love you so much," J. Granville whispered in Sage's ear. "Now, give 'em a sound bite so we can get out of here."

Sage felt momentarily lost when J. Granville and Simone stepped away from her in the same instant. The flashing and whirling of cameras had slowed slightly. Sage stepped to the podium and adjusted the microphone a fraction lower.

"I am excited to be working on this, the last stage of Harbor Bostonian Hotel's restoration project. It is an honor to be permitted to leave a lasting mark on a place which has been more of a home for me…and my family than a business operation." Sage could feel the sweat dripping down her back and wanted nothing more than to wrap her speech up quickly. "Being an artist, I do much better expressing myself with my hands than I do with speeches so I'm going to turn the microphone back to…," she hesitated as she forced the words, "my father, J. Granville Sebastian."

Sage stepped away and immediately felt Simone's arm circle her waist. J. Granville gave a gentle squeeze to her shoulder. She met his appreciative nod with a small smile. The first one she had graced him with in years. He was reluctant to pull away from the rare pleasant exchange but finally managed to drag himself back to the podium to finish his official duties.

"We have a delightful buffet in the adjoining conference room. So, lets get thru the question and answer segment as quickly as we can, shall we?" He waited for their light laughter to evaporate.

"Mr. Sebastian, Chantal Evans with AP, how much has the project cost in its entirety? Some have speculated the renovation costs ran into the hundreds of millions of dollars."

"Lovely to see you, Chantal. By the way, congratulations on your wedding. Frank is a lucky guy."

J. Granville grinned as the woman blushed. In this heavily orchestrated event, he felt completely in control of the flotsam and jetsam populating the media.

"As to costs, I'm not going to discuss totals. It was, of course, a substantial amount. However, Sebastian/America is a private company so I have only the chairman of the board to answer to." He looked over his shoulder and winked, "Isn't that right, honey?"

"Absolutely," Simone responded on cue and the audience laughed accordingly.

"Mr. Sebastian, Marc Marshall Mass Record, Mr. Sebastian, your daughter has been a hold out of sorts with the business…,"

J. Granville leaned into the microphone and interrupted, "I'm sorry, Marc, could you clarify to which daughter you're referring? I have two."

"Well,…Sage, of course," The reporter was a bit flustered which was what J. Granville intended.

"My six children play active roles on Sebastian/America's board of directors. However, they each have their own interests and career paths. However, we continually look for enterprises which embrace those individual interests and promote the growth of the entire company. While our current venture represents the first public role for Sage, she has long been involved in the company."

Sage ducked her head at the complete fabrication.

"Excuse me, Mr. Sebastian, I'd like a follow up to my esteemed colleague's question, if I might be so bold?"

The vaguely familiar voice drew Sage's focus back to the sea of faces bobbing in the crowd before her.

"When exactly did Sage find the time to participate in the company's operations? What with all her single minded devotion to the pursuit of art," the woman made air quotes high above her head around the word art, "or did she find the time after her juvenile arrest?"

Stunned reporters turned with a collective gasp to the blonde in their midst wearing dark sunglasses. She smirked at the shock written across Sage's face.

"How dare you…" J. Granville's admonishment did little to damn the steady stream of words flowing from the petite woman's mouth; flooding the room.

"Opps, that's supposed to be a secret, wasn't it? Just like the fact you, Mrs. Sebastian bought her entire gallery showing. Opps, again. Another secret gets away from me. My bad. Secrets are dangerous things, don't you think? They have a tendency to slip out at the most inopportune moments. Like now. No secret is really safe from a blabber mouth? That's right, right, isn't it? Tell me I'm right Sage.

"You!" Sage lurched forward with the sudden recognition of her one time jail bench mate, Tristan Ayer.

"Don't," Simone begged as she clutch Sage's arm.

"Young woman, you're going to need to leave. NOW! Security…"

The woman ignored J. Granville's directive and continued her deluge of information. "Especially big secrets like the big secret about the loony bin the first Mrs. J. Granville Sebastian is languishing in. Still. After, what, fifty years? Well decades at least? Tell me, is Endicott in the same place or is he walled up in the attic down in Wellfleet? But, who cares about him anyway, right Simone? Not your kid, not your problem…,"

Tristan continued to rattle the Sebastian family closet skeletons as the media began to churn into the frenzied shiver of sharks Cade predicted. Lights flashed. Cameras whirled. Attention had abruptly shifted to the bubbly blonde in the center seat of the center row.

"Security!" J. Granville, shaking with anger, shouted.

"Anyway J, may I call you J? A point of clarification, you said you have two daughters…,"

Security was futilely trying to pull and push their way to the dead center of the room. It would have been difficult enough if the audience remained seated but they didn't. The press did just that and pressed in around the jabbering woman.

"isn't it a fact…,"

Sage tore her arm free from Simone's hold.

"…you have…"

"SECURITY! SHUT THAT BITCH UP!"

J. Granville's bellow reverberated along Sage's breast bone as she leapt from the stage. She launched herself into the crowd shoving anybody too slow or too stupid move out of her way.

"…you'll forgive me if I wrong, I'm sure…"

Sage was in mid air for the tackle when she heard Tristan finish her sentence.

"…only one daughter, Brookfield Sydney-Sebastian."

TBC

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