"Are you certain we can't just—burn it to the ground?" Quinn questioned her soulmate as she stared at the large building. "I mean we'd be doing the world a favor; this building is rather phallic isn't it."
Rachel covered up her laugh with a cough, she needed to stand firm against arson or whatever the twins could suggest. She thought they'd both be taking their father's death badly, but Quinn had simply shrugged her shoulders and Charlie had thrown a party. "Arson is bad," Rachel reminds Quinn who makes a face. "Though I must agree, the building is rather phallic."
Charlie glanced at the building as she rubbed the bump on the bridge of her nose. Her father had given her that, as well as the scar just above her left eyebrow. The only reason that he had left them anything at all was because he had no other children to give all his earthly shit too, and burning all of his earthly possessions would probably be a fire hazard; they were in the middle of a drought. After a long moment of simply staring at the building, Charlie exits the car and joins Rachel and Quinn on the sidewalk. "I could use a smoke," she mutters to her twin.
"Same," Quinn admits only for Rachel to clear her throat. She sighs, "But we quit because smoking is absolute shit on your voice," she reminds Charlie, who had her hand in her breast pocket. That meant one thing, "I thought you quit once you joined the Air Force."
"Did." Charlie explains as she pulls out her pack of cigarettes and taps the bottom, causing one to flick upward. She grabs it and pulls out her lighter, "Then I remembered how nice it feels to smoke so I picked it back up after I left," Charlie explains. It had been easy to fall back into the habit. She glances up at Rachel who had her hands on her hips and looked ready to explode into a long rant. "Only when I'm stressed."
"Smoking is the leading cause of lung cancer," Rachel began, she'd already given this speech a million times before Quinn had finally managed to quit. But as long as Charlie did it, Quinn would inevitably slide back into the filthy habit.
Charlie sighed and looked at Quinn who shook her head, she was wisely staying out it. "Rachel. I only smoke when I'm stressed. My father just died. I think that means that I'm allowed to have a cigarette while I debate whether we should burn this place to the ground, or sell this place to the highest bidder and then give all his money to liberal causes that would have him spinning in his grave."
Rachel plucks Charlie's cigarette away and heads to the nearest trashcan and puts it out, before tossing it in the trash. "Smoking will kill you," Rachel says firmly, narrowing her eyes when Charlie immediately reaches for her carton. It's a stare down which she wins when Charlie merely shrugs her shoulders and slides her hands in her pockets.
Charlie glanced at Quinn who flashed her an amused smile. It's enough to cause her to roll her eyes, the two of them could be a bit much, but she didn't truly mind Rachel lecturing her on her health. Rachel cared about her because Quinn cared about her. "Let's just get this over, I don't want to be here any longer than I have too."
"I agree. Let's just go in, grab his shit, put someone in charge, we can figure out what we want to do with the company after we have some time to think about it." Quinn paused and flicked her attention towards Rachel, "Are you certain we can't—"
"Arson is illegal," Rachel stressed. She's met with both twins cracking a smile, and she huffs, they were teasing her. At least she hoped they were, she knew about their misspent youth, planning and getting away with arson seemed like something that they would at the very least attempt. She sighs and extends her arm so that Quinn can take it. She turns to look at Charlie for a moment and shakes her head when she noticed that Charlie was standing just a bit further off from them. It's enough to cause her to frown slightly, "She should have come."
"I told her not too," Charlie explains with a wave of her hand. "She's not my soulmate Rachel, this is something you drag your soulmate too. She's not my soulmate, so she gets a pass."
"But—"
"Rae," Quinn cautioned, they weren't here to rehash this old argument. Charlie was finally in a good place, so what if she moved from lover to lover. She was looking for something, and she hadn't found it with anyone else yet. But she'd been with Marley for a bit over a year. Which was the longest that Charlie had ever been with anyone. Marley could be the person Charlie settled for.
"She should be here," Rachel insisted, but kept her voice down as they entered the building and headed to the front desk.
"—we're incredibly sorry for your loss. Your father was a—"
"Shitty husband and an even shittier father," Charlie interrupts in a bored tone. "He was probably a shitty boss as well," Charlie adds. "Just point us to his office so we can grab his things and go. I don't want to be here any longer than I have to be."
"Charlie," Rachel hissed.
"Rachel," Charlie snaps back ignoring the poor secretary who looked very confused.
"His office is on the top floor; we've prepared guest passes for you. Would you like a tour?"
Quinn shook her head, "No. We're just here to grab his thing. Shouldn't be too difficult to find, just find the room with the most expensive shit in it," Quinn points to the elevator. "That way, right?"
"Uh—yes," the secretary mumbled, her cheeks flushing. She opens her mouth to say something but they had already moved on. She had heard rumors that the family might start selling off the company to the highest bidder, but she had thought that the people who were spreading the rumor were thinking of the worst-case scenario. She needed to start looking for a job, she probably would be unemployed by the end of the month. Hopefully one of the executives would be able to convince them that selling the company piece by piece was the wrong move.
~ O ~
"I hope you have your resume ready."
Santana frowned as she tears her eyes away from her laptop to look at Sebastian who was standing in her doorway. "All because they weren't close, doesn't mean anything Sebastian. There are thousands of people who work for this construction firm, we have quite a few contracts as well. The company is exceedingly profitable. Russell Fabray was a cheap-ass and could be an asshole sometimes, but I doubt that they are going to make a decision based on their daddy issues."
"I don't see why they wouldn't, I would. They could make a mint selling this place off to a number of interested parties. The Chinese would probably pay top dollar for this firm. I mean it's not like either one of them is going to take over Russell's position. One of them is a writer and I think the other is an actor or something—I mean come on Santana. I mean sure one of them went to Yale, but it was for a liberal arts degree," Sebastian pointed out. True they might decide to keep the company but it seemed far more trouble than it was worth.
"Even if they do decide to sell the company, that doesn't mean that our jobs will be gone. There may be a restructuring but we've been profitable for years—"
"Because of Russell," Sebastian interrupts. "He may have been an asshole, as you so crudely put it, but he got us the contracts. Dwight's worried, Russell's death caused us to lose a few contracts already."
Santana finally looked up and made a face at Sebastian's comments. She hadn't heard that they had lost some contracts already, but if they had— "Does Dwight have a pitch then? To Russell's kids. He should have a pitch—"
Sebastian shook his head. "They just lost their father Santana. Dwight's trying to be respectful, he plans to get them to come back in a week to discuss what to do with the company. It's going to be all hands-on deck, preparing a presentation as to why they should keep it in the family."
Santana frowned and got up; she didn't know anything about Russell's children. He didn't talk about them, and no one ever asked about them. "If Russell was a bastard at home as well—then I truly doubt that they'll want to come back. We need to make sure that they do."
"Are you just going to wave your hands and hope for the best?" Sebastian asked seriously. He was certain that the twins had blown Dwight off, several times. They weren't there to make friends, they were there to strip the company down to make a profit.
Santana is about to respond when she hears the ding of the elevators and turns to watch three people step off the elevator. Almost immediately Dwight makes a beeline towards them and she watched as his face fell after he stuck out his hand was promptly ignored. It was rude and unbecoming, and they weren't being fair to any of the people who worked there. "I'll figure something out."
"You better or we'll be out of a job by the end of the week."
~ O ~
Quinn tilted her head as she stared at her father's office, it's not until she feels a gentle hand on her elbow that she looks at her and lets out a breath she didn't know that she had been holding. "I was expecting tackier gold-plated stuff."
"Your father isn't the president," Rachel pointed out gently, but smiles as Quinn laughs. "But, it's rather modern. I was expecting gold plated things as well."
Charlie entered the office and looked around, most of this stuff looked like it belonged to the company. The computer and all the furniture wasn't something that they could toss into a box and toss into a dumpster. She immediately opens a drawer, but there are only pens and files in there. She's about to close the drawer when she spots something shiny and digs through the files until she manages to grab a picture frame and pulls it out.
Quinn pulls away from her wife and soulmate to see what Charlie had found. Resting her head on Charlie's shoulder she looks at the photo, "Is that—"
"Mom," Charlie finishes for her. "She was his soulmate, of course he had a picture of her." Charlie studies the photo for a moment before she flips the frame over and removes the back so she can remove the photo. "He blamed us for her death," she explains to Rachel who nodded wordlessly.
"She looks happy—they look happy," Quinn said as she gently traces her mother's face. They had never gotten to meet, their mother had died soon after giving birth to Charlie, severe bleeding. It was probably why Charlie had gotten the worst of the abuse, not that she had escaped unscathed. She understood him, at least a little bit, she wasn't sure what she would do if Rachel was suddenly taken away from her. Still, she doubted that she would take it on any children that they had together.
Charlie studied the photo again before folding it and slipping it into her pocket. She's about to start going through the rest of his things when her phone rings. She pulls it out of her back pocket and glances at the name on it. "It's Marley."
Rachel smiled, she had introduced the two of them and they seemed to have hit it off. "Quinn and I will give you a moment for privacy."
"I don't—"
Quinn patted Charlie's back. "Part of being in a relationship is sharing in your pain. You don't have to do this alone."
"I'm not alone. You two are here," Charlie pointed out but Rachel had already dragged Quinn out of the office. Charlie sighed and looked at the picture of Marley on her phone, before hitting decline. She wasn't in the mood to share her feelings, because she didn't know how she felt. She instead focuses on the only reason she was here; they were here to collect his shit and leave. There's a knock on the glass window and Charlie looks up to see a woman standing at the doorway. "I'm not interested in giving out autographs today."
"I'm certain that if I were a fan of your work, I'd be very disappointed, but I don't know who you are." The woman throws back in Charlie's face as she takes Charlie's comment as an invitation to enter the office.
Maybe she should have answered Marley's phone call, then she could ignore the woman who was now standing across from her. "You don't know who I am?" Charlie questioned before scoffing. Everyone in the building seemed to know who she was, and it had nothing to do with the fact that she was currently starring in Quinn's hit sitcom. "Look, my father died and I'm trying to have a moment with all of this. So, if you could—" Charlie gestures towards the door as she opens a cupboard where she spots what looks to be rather expensive scotch.
"Santana Lopez."
Charlie looks up to see that Santana has her hand outstretched, but instead of taking it she places a glass on her father's desk and pours herself a drink. "I'm assuming you want something from me Mrs. Lopez."
"I'm not married," Santana replied smoothly, ignoring the raised brow that Charlie shoots her. "You're right by the way. I would like to discuss your plans for the company. Everyone in the office is afraid that you and your twin sister plan to sell the company away, and—"
"We are," Charlie said as she brought the glass to her face and took a sniff, it smelled like an oak tree. She takes a sip and smiles at how light it was. She glances up, half expecting Santana to have taken her leave. "And you're still here," she says flatly, noting the grim look on her face.
"I am," Santana said firmly, she wasn't going to be brushed aside. "I understand you may have complicated feelings for your father—but that shouldn't mean that you fire everyone here."
Charlie sighed and took a long drawn out sip as she thought about how she wanted to handle the situation, "If you want a bleeding heart, may I suggest Rachel. She's the short brunette that's attached to the hip with my twin sister. As far as I'm concerned, this company belongs to me and my sister. If we want to burn it to the ground we can, if we want to sell it then we can sell it and there's not a damn thing you can do about it."
"I don't need to talk to a bleeding heart, I need to talk to someone pragmatic, and I thought that was you," Santana responded coolly. "You're right this is now your company, which means you and your sister are now responsible for thousands of lives. Sure, many of us will land on our feet, but what about those who can't? I know I have no right to lecture you—"
"And yet here you are," Charlie interrupts studying Santana carefully.
Santana pauses for a moment, before she inhales and takes a step forward. "Yes, here I am. Dwight wanted to ask you to return in a week, after you've finished grieving, so that he can talk about the future of this company—all I'm asking is that you consider attending the meeting so we can prove to you that keeping this company is in your best interest."
Charlie took another sip. "In a week, I'll be back in Atlanta. There are other people who depend on me," she says. "It's Wednesday. Quinn and I leave Friday evening. You have until Friday morning to convince Quinn to keep the company."
That barely gave them any time to prepare a presentation, but if her department busted their asses, they might be able to pull something together. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. I want to burn this place down. The only one who has the power to stop me is Quinn. If you can convince her, then thank her. Now please go away. I want to drink this in peace."
It's only after that dismissal that Santana takes her leave, but she stops and turns to look at Charlie once more. She was no longer paying her any attention and was currently on her phone as she enjoyed Russell's favorite drink.