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xp_logsAnd to think, Sam already didn't like Warren....
Sam had waited a few days. Mostly to give himself a chance to work out his anger in the training room before he did something that was going to make Mel cry. When he was sure he was calm enough to do what needed to be done he made the trip to WI, greeting the secretary with a chipper smile and his best manners.
"Hello miss, I don't have an appointment, but I have a personal matter to discuss with Warren Worthington if he's available. Name's Sam Guthrie, I'm an associate of his."
Leah glanced up at the man in front of her and gave a tight smile. "One moment please." Pulling up Warren's calendar, she quickly scanned it and the private file of "People who always have access". She'd never understood why there were so many people on that list, but after a quick scan, she saw Sam's name. That resulted in a genuine smile. She sent a quick teams message to Warren, received the acknowledgement, and gave a nod.
"Oh, Mr. Guthrie. Yes, you're on the list. Mr. Worthington has time right now, so please, continue on through these doors and down the hallway. His office is at the very end."
The hallway in question was like a museum. Priceless paintings and the odd statue adorned it, leading to the big corner office with windows from top to bottom. A desk the size of a large dining table was right in the center, with Warren relaxing in his chair, twirling a pen in his hands. "Oh, it's the less angry Guthrie. I really need to have your face on a post-it note or something so that I remember who you are. How can I help you? A raise? A yacht? A sense of humour?"
Sam's few excursions with Lila after moving to Scotland had presented him with ample opportunity to witness riches beyond his wildest dreams, but he'd never dreamed of riches. Sam walked at a steady pace, not stopping to look at the lavish decorations all around him. He made eye contact with Warren and raised an eyebrow. "Got time to grab a drink? Wasn't it you who told me I oughta day drink?"
That piqued his interest. Sitting up, he gave Sam a look for a few seconds before nodding. "Help yourself," he said, waving over to a very expensive liquor cabinet. "This is my domain. We can drink just fine here, unless you're wanting to be seen in public with me."
"I don't think this is the kind of conversation you'd want to have in public." Sam said pouring them each something strong that would burn on its way down. He sat Warren's glass in front of him with force but neatly, only neat because he'd had practice as a bartender. Sam sat down across from him and downed half the glass in one go. "So, just to cover all our bases before we actually talk."
Sam cracked his knuckles and hoped that Warren noticed the mottled bruises from where he'd spent the last few days beating the shit out of the punching bag. "Mel told me. She's grown and she's smart and as far as I'm concerned she can do whatever the hell she damn well pleases so long as she's safe and happy- I don't have to understand her choices, I know I raised her to think for herself and I trust that she does. This bein' said- if you do anythin' that hurts her, I will find out if yer bones are hollow by crushin' them myself. Do I make that clear?"
Warren looked at Sam curiously while he talked before stretching his arms out a bit and moving his chair closer to the desk. He cupped a hand around his drink, and cocked his head, still quiet while he processed what to say. He had no desire to explain himself nor defend himself, especially not to Sam. There was absolutely no reason to. And that was all he had to say.
"So. Mel is smart and can do whatever she wants as long as she is safe and happy. At the same time, you're willing to beat me up if I hurt her, rather than letting her make the decision if she is -- in fact -- hurt, and what she would like to do. Which is it then, Sam? Are you letting her have her own autonomy or are you going to perpetuate this learned helplessness you seem to want to instill in order to remain in control as the parent figure you've been all these years?"
Sam raised a fist powers building behind it before Warren's words caught up to his brain and the glow around his fist fizzled out. "What in the actual fuckare you talkin' about? If Mel was hurt and she came and told me she were hurt, I'd go hurt the son of a bitch that hurt her because she's my baby sister and I love her."
Sam stared at him incredulously. "Why on earth would I want control? I left Kentucky first chance I got. I ain't never wanted to play daddy and I still fuckin' don't. But when yer daddy withers away of blacklung in front of ya and yer Mama decides to give up on raisin' the nine fucking kids she decided to have- someone has to work and someone has to change the diapers and someone had to raise them." His voice was getting thick with emotion and he tried to push back tears, like hell was he going to cry in front of Warren. "So yes, I raised Mel, I think of her as my oldest. But I never wanted to. Now can I actually talk to you about the damn thing I came here to talk about or are you gonna talk out yer ass some more? I've been in your kinda social circles before, I know you don't know 'bout how folks like me live. I ain't gotta hear it again."
"Oh, I'm sorry -- I didn't realize you wanted me to say anything. You were doing well on your own there. Please," he said with a wave. "Continue."
"Now, this might not be something you think of in yer gaudy display of yer own vanity up here- but are you even aware of the position you've put my sister in?" Sam said. "Do you get what you've done?"
Warren gave an amused smile before finishing his rather large drink in one gulp, not even wincing from the alcohol. "Enlighten me."
"Yer my boss. Yer Jay's boss." Sam said. "You slept with our little sister. Now if you were the intelligent sort I might presume to think that you might understand the implications of that, but I know better than to try an' get blood from a turnip. Beyond the fact that it's definitely unethical to sleep with your employee's sister- you've put our little sister in a position where regardless of whether you think there is or not- there is some level of pressure for her to please you or there might be issues for Jay and I at work. You may not understand that my little siblings back home might not have heat or enough food if Jay and I don't send money home, but Mel does. Mel knows what a big deal it is that Jay and I can cover all the bills now. That maybe our younger siblings can go to college without needing a full ride. That maybe they can get out too. You're our boss, that potential is tied directly to our paychecks. You've put my sister in a horrible fucking position."
There was no way around it -- Warren burst out in laughter, almost choking at what Sam was saying. It took a few seconds before he could calm himself down enough to answer back. "I'm sorry -- I did this? Again, Sam -- which is it? Am I a complete moron who has no idea what they're doing or am I your boss, which along wit hthat title, comes the implication that I run a billion dollar enterprise and am really damn good at it, so there has to be some sense in this blonde head of mine." He stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, leaning on it while he stared right down at Sam. "And as a CEO from essentially birth, I don't have ethics, so let's make that clear right now. I do what works for me, and that's about it. You can worry about ethics all you want, I'm not going to bother. Now, what I do have is professionalism so tell me, why the fuck would I fire you or your brother when you're both doing a good job? And why would I, again, a billionaire playboy retaliate against your sister by firing you?" He shook his head. "It sounds like you're the one putting your sister in a strange position here. She could text me today to tell me to fuck off and guess what? I would. I have no desire to fuck someone that doesn't want me, and let me assure you -- your sister is very satisfied right now, so we're good on that end." He glanced down at his watch, bored. "Now, are you done feeling like a man? Or do we need to measure our dicks here?"
A lifetime of memories filled Sam's mind. Abraham Lee Austen telling Sam that he could do whatever he wanted to his sisters because his Papaw was mine manager. Gene Cabot's lecherous attitude toward the wives of the men he worked with. Levi Austen's claims that he'd always be worth more than Sam just cause of who his daddy was- the way the world worked to make it so. Lila's words ringing in his ear when she'd convinced him to drive to the next town over to see her at seventeen telling him she owned him. Lila's friends trying to force him to partake with them, despite his repeated statements that his uncle had died that way- the mocking 'well that doesn't work for us Sammy.' 'This is just ours Sammy, nobody hears it but you.' 'Why does it matter that I stole it- I know it's for your mother, isn't it pretty?- Sam, it's just ten thousand dollars it's not like that's a lot.'
Sam stood, trembling with rage and glared at Warren. "I hope." He said, suddenly feeling nauseous. "I hope that everythin' crashes down around you and you lose everythin'. Someone as selfish as you don't deserve all this. But that's how you keep it ain't it? Bein' horrible sacks of shit?"
Sam was clearly going to continue but was stopped by some internal force. A force which quickly became external as the contents of Sam's stomach vacated the premise through his mouth, some of it hitting Warren, but most of it hitting his desk.
Out of everything that had come out of Sam's mouth today, this horrified Warren the most.
"Ah! My desk! Why are your emotions all over it?" He stood there, almost helpless before heading to his phone and jabbing buttons. "Leah! There is a biohazard situation here and I need custodian, NOW."
He looked over at Sam and added reluctantly "And first aid I guess...."
Sam had waited a few days. Mostly to give himself a chance to work out his anger in the training room before he did something that was going to make Mel cry. When he was sure he was calm enough to do what needed to be done he made the trip to WI, greeting the secretary with a chipper smile and his best manners.
"Hello miss, I don't have an appointment, but I have a personal matter to discuss with Warren Worthington if he's available. Name's Sam Guthrie, I'm an associate of his."
Leah glanced up at the man in front of her and gave a tight smile. "One moment please." Pulling up Warren's calendar, she quickly scanned it and the private file of "People who always have access". She'd never understood why there were so many people on that list, but after a quick scan, she saw Sam's name. That resulted in a genuine smile. She sent a quick teams message to Warren, received the acknowledgement, and gave a nod.
"Oh, Mr. Guthrie. Yes, you're on the list. Mr. Worthington has time right now, so please, continue on through these doors and down the hallway. His office is at the very end."
The hallway in question was like a museum. Priceless paintings and the odd statue adorned it, leading to the big corner office with windows from top to bottom. A desk the size of a large dining table was right in the center, with Warren relaxing in his chair, twirling a pen in his hands. "Oh, it's the less angry Guthrie. I really need to have your face on a post-it note or something so that I remember who you are. How can I help you? A raise? A yacht? A sense of humour?"
Sam's few excursions with Lila after moving to Scotland had presented him with ample opportunity to witness riches beyond his wildest dreams, but he'd never dreamed of riches. Sam walked at a steady pace, not stopping to look at the lavish decorations all around him. He made eye contact with Warren and raised an eyebrow. "Got time to grab a drink? Wasn't it you who told me I oughta day drink?"
That piqued his interest. Sitting up, he gave Sam a look for a few seconds before nodding. "Help yourself," he said, waving over to a very expensive liquor cabinet. "This is my domain. We can drink just fine here, unless you're wanting to be seen in public with me."
"I don't think this is the kind of conversation you'd want to have in public." Sam said pouring them each something strong that would burn on its way down. He sat Warren's glass in front of him with force but neatly, only neat because he'd had practice as a bartender. Sam sat down across from him and downed half the glass in one go. "So, just to cover all our bases before we actually talk."
Sam cracked his knuckles and hoped that Warren noticed the mottled bruises from where he'd spent the last few days beating the shit out of the punching bag. "Mel told me. She's grown and she's smart and as far as I'm concerned she can do whatever the hell she damn well pleases so long as she's safe and happy- I don't have to understand her choices, I know I raised her to think for herself and I trust that she does. This bein' said- if you do anythin' that hurts her, I will find out if yer bones are hollow by crushin' them myself. Do I make that clear?"
Warren looked at Sam curiously while he talked before stretching his arms out a bit and moving his chair closer to the desk. He cupped a hand around his drink, and cocked his head, still quiet while he processed what to say. He had no desire to explain himself nor defend himself, especially not to Sam. There was absolutely no reason to. And that was all he had to say.
"So. Mel is smart and can do whatever she wants as long as she is safe and happy. At the same time, you're willing to beat me up if I hurt her, rather than letting her make the decision if she is -- in fact -- hurt, and what she would like to do. Which is it then, Sam? Are you letting her have her own autonomy or are you going to perpetuate this learned helplessness you seem to want to instill in order to remain in control as the parent figure you've been all these years?"
Sam raised a fist powers building behind it before Warren's words caught up to his brain and the glow around his fist fizzled out. "What in the actual fuckare you talkin' about? If Mel was hurt and she came and told me she were hurt, I'd go hurt the son of a bitch that hurt her because she's my baby sister and I love her."
Sam stared at him incredulously. "Why on earth would I want control? I left Kentucky first chance I got. I ain't never wanted to play daddy and I still fuckin' don't. But when yer daddy withers away of blacklung in front of ya and yer Mama decides to give up on raisin' the nine fucking kids she decided to have- someone has to work and someone has to change the diapers and someone had to raise them." His voice was getting thick with emotion and he tried to push back tears, like hell was he going to cry in front of Warren. "So yes, I raised Mel, I think of her as my oldest. But I never wanted to. Now can I actually talk to you about the damn thing I came here to talk about or are you gonna talk out yer ass some more? I've been in your kinda social circles before, I know you don't know 'bout how folks like me live. I ain't gotta hear it again."
"Oh, I'm sorry -- I didn't realize you wanted me to say anything. You were doing well on your own there. Please," he said with a wave. "Continue."
"Now, this might not be something you think of in yer gaudy display of yer own vanity up here- but are you even aware of the position you've put my sister in?" Sam said. "Do you get what you've done?"
Warren gave an amused smile before finishing his rather large drink in one gulp, not even wincing from the alcohol. "Enlighten me."
"Yer my boss. Yer Jay's boss." Sam said. "You slept with our little sister. Now if you were the intelligent sort I might presume to think that you might understand the implications of that, but I know better than to try an' get blood from a turnip. Beyond the fact that it's definitely unethical to sleep with your employee's sister- you've put our little sister in a position where regardless of whether you think there is or not- there is some level of pressure for her to please you or there might be issues for Jay and I at work. You may not understand that my little siblings back home might not have heat or enough food if Jay and I don't send money home, but Mel does. Mel knows what a big deal it is that Jay and I can cover all the bills now. That maybe our younger siblings can go to college without needing a full ride. That maybe they can get out too. You're our boss, that potential is tied directly to our paychecks. You've put my sister in a horrible fucking position."
There was no way around it -- Warren burst out in laughter, almost choking at what Sam was saying. It took a few seconds before he could calm himself down enough to answer back. "I'm sorry -- I did this? Again, Sam -- which is it? Am I a complete moron who has no idea what they're doing or am I your boss, which along wit hthat title, comes the implication that I run a billion dollar enterprise and am really damn good at it, so there has to be some sense in this blonde head of mine." He stood up and walked around to the front of the desk, leaning on it while he stared right down at Sam. "And as a CEO from essentially birth, I don't have ethics, so let's make that clear right now. I do what works for me, and that's about it. You can worry about ethics all you want, I'm not going to bother. Now, what I do have is professionalism so tell me, why the fuck would I fire you or your brother when you're both doing a good job? And why would I, again, a billionaire playboy retaliate against your sister by firing you?" He shook his head. "It sounds like you're the one putting your sister in a strange position here. She could text me today to tell me to fuck off and guess what? I would. I have no desire to fuck someone that doesn't want me, and let me assure you -- your sister is very satisfied right now, so we're good on that end." He glanced down at his watch, bored. "Now, are you done feeling like a man? Or do we need to measure our dicks here?"
A lifetime of memories filled Sam's mind. Abraham Lee Austen telling Sam that he could do whatever he wanted to his sisters because his Papaw was mine manager. Gene Cabot's lecherous attitude toward the wives of the men he worked with. Levi Austen's claims that he'd always be worth more than Sam just cause of who his daddy was- the way the world worked to make it so. Lila's words ringing in his ear when she'd convinced him to drive to the next town over to see her at seventeen telling him she owned him. Lila's friends trying to force him to partake with them, despite his repeated statements that his uncle had died that way- the mocking 'well that doesn't work for us Sammy.' 'This is just ours Sammy, nobody hears it but you.' 'Why does it matter that I stole it- I know it's for your mother, isn't it pretty?- Sam, it's just ten thousand dollars it's not like that's a lot.'
Sam stood, trembling with rage and glared at Warren. "I hope." He said, suddenly feeling nauseous. "I hope that everythin' crashes down around you and you lose everythin'. Someone as selfish as you don't deserve all this. But that's how you keep it ain't it? Bein' horrible sacks of shit?"
Sam was clearly going to continue but was stopped by some internal force. A force which quickly became external as the contents of Sam's stomach vacated the premise through his mouth, some of it hitting Warren, but most of it hitting his desk.
Out of everything that had come out of Sam's mouth today, this horrified Warren the most.
"Ah! My desk! Why are your emotions all over it?" He stood there, almost helpless before heading to his phone and jabbing buttons. "Leah! There is a biohazard situation here and I need custodian, NOW."
He looked over at Sam and added reluctantly "And first aid I guess...."
