Olin's Handler - Part 3

“Is that what this-” she waved a hand - “is all about? Post teenage rebellion to garner daddy’s attention?”

“You just waved to all of me.” Olins noted. “No it's not, I learned the harder I tried the less he paid attention but that was when I was young and naive. I do admit his attention is a fringe benefit but this mostly self indulgent hedonism. You live in a stuffy box all your life and then realize there is a whole world to explore … self-indulgent hedonism is what happens.” He chuckled. “Besides, it could always be worse, couldn't it.”

“You seem to find ways to make it so, yes,” Varan agreed, pursing her lips.

“Tsk. I like to think I have mellowed with age.” Olin protested as he neaten the office desk. Thankfully being the least interesting part of his home it has been moderately shielded from the rave-nado.

“Make sure you read my notes on the screen,” Varan replied, ignoring the comment. “I’ll spell everything phonetically.”

“I know. I know.” Olin droned with a sigh but the sooner he buckled down and got it over with the better. Then he could put his energy toward other more important things. Like next Friday night and a weekend of non stop raves and it needed fireworks. “We may need fireworks … “ Olin said absently.

“You’ll get them from your father if you don’t remember to ask about their eldest daughter, Sususanna,” Varan warned, taking a seat at the kitchen counter with her laptop.

“Sususanna! Right … I haven't seen her in a while this summer is Milan.” Olin paused thinking. “I don't remember what we were doing in Milan.”

“Likely the same thing you were doing last night.” Varan sniped.

“Oh no I would remember that … I think.” Olins scratched his head.

“I should keep a list,” Varan muttered.

“I'm sure it'll come back to me.” Olin said, waving the thought away as he prepped for the meeting.

The meeting went well enough for Olin’s father, Lars, to give an approving nod to his son before logging off. It was more than he’d gotten most meetings, but at least it was done and overwirth.

“I’ll have your grey suit pressed,” Varan told him after the meeting had been logged out. “And make you a reservation at that French place you’re fond of. Lots of foot traffic, show people you’re not hole up in here nursing a hangover, recovering from a binge, or still sowing oats.”

“Does it have to be grey?” Olin asked, making a face.

“The point is for you to be seen, in public, being respectable. You’d rather it be booty shorts and straps like last night’s conquest?”

“Those were not booty shorts.” Olin coughed.

“I’ll have the staff disinfect everything,” Varan decided. “Reservation is set for 9 pm sharp. No corner table. Arrive at 8:30, make yourself seen at the bar, and I’ve requested a central location for you to dine. I’ll see to it that word reaches your father. Tomorrow there’s a ribbon cutting ceremony at 11 am, I’ll have the car bring you around, and then after you can have brunch with the Hascom Corp execs.”

“Please say you'll be joining me? There is nothing sadder than someone eating alone like that.” Olin said, making a distasteful face.

Varan gave him a dry look. “The point is to alleviate speculation that you’re some womanizer. I’ll arange for Trevor Upton to join you. He’s a Jr. Partners from Upton-Webber, freshly from getting barred, they’ve been trying to represent your father as counsel here for a bit - he won’t say no. And don’t give me that face - appearances are everything.”

“Not a lawyer Varen, why can't you sit there on your tablet loudly bossing me around? Then it's like I'm very busy and I'll just sit there and not so then I look like the ‘obedient’ son and I don't have to listen to some overly educated lawyer more interested in kissing ass then having an actual lunch.” Olin all but pouted.

Varan softened, relaxing her shoulders a bit. “Olin, I’m sorry, you know I am, but my hands are tied. I wouldn’t try to take away the parties you enjoy, I don’t interfere with your-” she tried to find a word for it, “sexcapades, but that means a little sacrifice after, so I can mitigate the damage. I can stave off your father’s demands of marriage and mergers, that you return home and take a high ranking position in a company I know you have zero interest in if I can show him that you being out in the world brings value to his vision. I’ve already blocked off all of Friday evening, and most of the day next Saturday. Compromise. “

Olin let out a breath. “Alright. Fine ” He acquiesced. “At least tell me the Lawyer is moderately interesting?”

“I’ve never met him,” Varan admitted. “Just graduated, 27 years old and instantly made a junior partner - you may have more in common than you think. But just in case, you should go take a nap. It’s not polite to yawn when someone’s lips are attached to your backside.”

Olin laughed. “I feel like you may be speaking from experience.” He said playfully getting off on the chair. “You need to join one of my parties sometime. Might do you some good.”

“Then who would mitigate my damage?” She asked with a laugh.

“That is fair but at least you would be at ground zero.” Olin said putting a positive spin on this idea as he tossed his suit coat over the sofa. “Plus I get to dress you up!” He cooed.

“I’ve seen what people wear, or rather, don’t wear to your parties. Suffice it to say swimwear would be considered modest. I’ll stick to damage control, thanks. Go. Rest. Recuperate. Tonight you’re respectable.”

“Yes Varan … Anything you say Varan.” Olin teased as he yawned and sauntered back to bed. There would be plenty of hoop jumping and monkey dancing all week in order to play nice with the family.