Deadly Secrets Of The CEO

Some say you don't know what you got until it's gone.

I used to look at this saying as something cliche', until life threw me a punch that left me sore for eternity.

Losing a loved one isn't easy, even if you think you're prepared.

The pain just grows and grows until finally...it becomes you. Then you learn to dance to the rythmn of grief. You learn to sing the songs of distress. You learn to fight the battles of life even when your knuckles are bruised.

.......

My name is Quincy Daniels. A college freshman at NYC. This is actually my first year and everything seems so foreign. Living in New York was always my dream, the concrete jungle where dreams come through, right?

My major is Sociology and I'm kinda still trying to figure out what to do for a minor. I'm pretty tall and matured for my age, a 19-year-old that looks like a 25-year-old.

I have short blonde hair and I wear black alot.

It's just a weird habit I picked up from my weird dad. I moved from Ohio a month ago with him and we live in a high rise building that takes my breath away every single time I see it. Though that's like every day.

"Quincy! Quincy!" My dad's voice booms through my phone speakers. He sounds so excited.

I roll my eyes as I get from a taxi cab. I just came from my Creative Arts class and it's after 5-pm.

You would ask me why I’m rolling my eyes, that it could be something important.

But it is quite the opposite.

My dad is a really big exaggerator. Whenever he squeals about something, it is less important. And vice versa.

"Yes, dad? Normal people actually say hello or how are you doing when they call. But you're not normal so what's up?" I say with a hint of humor in my voice.

He chuckles lightly.

"Okay, know it all. I'm not going to be home for the next three days because I'm going to Hawaii! Hawaii Quincy!" I now see where the excitement is coming from. He’s traveling.

I smile knowing by the sound of his voice that he's really hyped about going Hawaii.

A doe-eyed brunette smiles and waves shyly my way as I pass a small but beautiful coffee shop.

I smile back politely and wave with my free hand while I hold my phone to my ear with my right hand.

"Okay Dad, have fun. That means I will be alone at the apartment and yes, I will have a few house parties." I say.

"Like hell you would. You don't even go to take-outs. I would be glad man, you stay locked up in your room on that computer of yours like you’re using it to sell damn drugs." My dad says.

"Whatever Dad, look I gotta go. Have fun at Hawaii and bring me something better than a stuffed bear. Tell Mr. Hanson I said hey. Bye Dad, stay safe." I say as I end the call.

Mr. Hanson is my dad's boss. He's real nice. He takes my dad on trips in and out of states.

I met him when I was ten and since then we hit it off. Besides, he and dad are like brothers. Known each other since high school.

My feet move in a steady rhythm as I near our building. I pull out my headphones and connect them to my phone.

I then put them in my ears and blast my drums with some Leon Bridges.

Since I discovered that guy on YouTube, I just can't get enough of his music. Its just so soothing and it's my kind of music. It helps me think of her.

My mom.

When she was alive, she would get up early morning and make us breakfast while some Sam Cooke music blared through the small radio on the kitchen island.

I sigh lightly when I reach our building.

"Mr. Daniels, welcome."

A short man dressed in a hotel like uniform that is friendly enough says. His name is George and he opens the glass door for anyone that comes to the building.

"Sup George? I told you to stop calling me Mr. Daniels. I am not my Dad." I say with a smile.

"Yeah, but it makes me feel like I'm doing my job right. Anyway where's your pops ?" He looks giddy today.

"You are not going to be seeing him anytime soon. He's gone Hawaii for three days." I say as I step into the building.

The room's temperature is more welcoming than the cold winds of New York.

And my dad wonder why I don't like to go out. I head for the elevator. My phone beeps, vibrating slightly in my black jeans. I pull it out quickly to check it out.

In my quick movement I hit someone.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry miss."

I look at the mess I created. Her folder is now on the ground with a few papers lying around.

"Let me get it." I say apologetically.

"It's okay." She says curtly.

Something about her voice brings memories of my mom rushing into my mind. Her singing, cooking, cleaning, and so much more.

I look at her face instantly. Confusion is plastered on her face as if she's trying to figure out who I am.

"Quincy?" She says more to herself.

That's when I see her eyes. Those eyes. I could never forget those light brown electric eyes.

"Mom?"

She drops the few papers that she picked from the ground and embraces me.

She hugs me so tight that its slightly uncomfortable but I don't push her back.

But I don't return the hug either.

I'm really confused. She looks fairly like my mom but can't be.

She pulls away from the hug and looks me in my eyes. Hers seems to sparkle a little.

She sighs heavily.

I see a few tears escape her eyes.

"Oh my Quincy. You have grown so much. I mean look at your beard." She smiles lightly. She touches my face, caressing it slowly. " Let's go to my room, I live on the ninth floor. We should talk. There's so much to tell you. Where's Sam?"

My dad name is Sam. I sigh awkwardly.

"Dad is in Hawaii for a few days. We live on the sixth floor. How come we don't see you?" I'm really confused here and I'm trying to understand all of this.

She starts picking her stuffs from the ground and placing it in the green binder.

"Oh no, Sam and I have met. So many times. He was the one that persuaded me to move here. You know I don't like New York. Too much happening here." She's done packing her papers.

"I was heading out to Sam's office to deliver these documents but since I've finally met you after all these years , let's head to my floor." She says hopefully.

I nod slowly.

I'm now even more confused. Mom died in a plane crash and now she's here. Actually in front of me, in the flesh.

She looks totally fine and my dad knows about this.

I don't know whether I should be angry or happy. But now I will just choose confused as hell.

A few minutes later we're in her apartment. I should call it a pent house because this place looks as if Chris brown decided to furnish an apartment for his daughter.

She catches me looking around and smiles. Her hair that was in a bun is now freely falling on her shoulders.

She looks stunning.

Her deep blue jeans hugs her tightly and her blouse is gray, reaching to her wrists.

She gestures with her hand to the big red couch with flowery small pillows. I walk over and sit down.

Behind the couch is a brilliant view of the city. The floor-to-ceiling windows gives the place a luxurious feel.

In one word, its breathtaking.

She sits down in a similar couch across from me and folds her hands on her lap.

Looking at me with a huge grin.

"So..." She drags the word.

"So...let's start with why the hell would you and dad hide you being alive away from me for so damn long?” I say rather calmly.

I’m impressed by my voice volume, because I am raging mad inside.

She frowns slightly. "Language, Quincy."

No. Absolutely, no. She don’t get to do this.

"I don't think you get to play mother right now." I say lifting one of my eyebrows.

She sighs.

"I guess so. Okay, remember that day when I was to go Chicago to meet my sister, your aunt Jessie?"

She doesn't wait for me to respond.

"I did not actually board the plane that crashed. I didn't even go. I wasn't even going to see her. I was going to meet a friend of mine so we could spend time together.” She says nervously while taking in a few shaky breaths.

My forehead creases slightly.

"Which friend?"

My interest is piqued. She gulps gently.

"Quincy, before you get ballistic. Just hear me out okay?"

She seems so nervous.

"Go on. I'm making no promises."

I cross my arms.

"I was having an affair."

She says in a defeated tone.

"Go on." I say in a monotone even though it feels like my chest is constricting.

"With Daniel. Daniel Sims, your high school math instructor." Her voice is full of embarrassment.

Well, oh shoot.

My mother decided to play dead because she wanted to fulfill one of her fantasies.

How classic.