Working Stiff(108)
Rox pressed, “And Arthur is the Earl of Givesnofucks.”
“He’s always had that nickname. You can see why.”
“So what was Cash?”
Maxence lifted his head and looked down at her, a wariness in his dark eyes. “How much has he told you about his childhood?”
“He told me that he was in a horrific car accident that smashed his face, but he didn’t have reconstructive surgery until he was eighteen.”
“Ah.” Maxence’s shoulders dropped about two inches, and he blinked slowly. “Good. He’s a very private person in some ways.”
“So what did you guys call him?”
His eyebrows twitched downward, and he sighed. “We didn’t give him the name. He insisted that Arthur and I call him that. He owned it, and he wore it like a mantle to throw it back at people who tormented him.”
Rox’s hands curled into fists at the thought of someone tormenting Cash. “He was a kid.”
“Children can be cruel.” He actually flinched as he looked at the walls. “Certain children, especially, seemed to be born with no conscience. Casimir’s treatment at the hands of certain people is what made me study theodicy, why evil exists in the world. Arthur and I tried to protect Casimir from those kinds of people, but he wouldn’t allow it.”
Rox shook her head. “Yeah, he wouldn’t.”
“He always battles injustice, and he won’t let other people fight his battles for him. Most of the boys were fine. After they got to know him, everybody liked him. Heart of gold and all that. Always picked for teams early, too.”
“All the guys love him at the office.”
“That’s Casimir. Everyone’s a friend. No one could have actually teased him even if we had wanted to. None of the boys, anyway.”
A few tumblers fell into place on the lock that was Cash Amsberg. Rox clarified, “None of the boys, you said.”
He nodded. “None of the boys.”
“But the girls?”
Maxence studied a painting of a golden bowl full of jewel-toned fruit. “The girls were different. When we were very young, it wasn’t a problem. Once everyone hit puberty, though, things changed for him. There was some groupthink going on, not uncommon in children.”
“I’m not sure I want to know this anymore.”
“I think you should.” He still wouldn’t look at her, though.
“Okay.” She took a deep breath and steeled herself.
Maxence pursed his lips. “They toyed with him.”
“This sounds really bad.”
He nodded. “They dared each other to go out with him, to kiss him, to make him fall in love with them, and then they laughed at him to his face and among their friends. It was brutal. No one could stop him from believing them and falling in love with them, until one day, he didn’t anymore.”
“Oh.”
“Something clicked in him, and he never believed them after that day. When one of them approached him, he was unflaggingly polite, but his eyes were hollow for hours afterward. We watched him to make sure that he didn’t ski into a tree or stop swimming in the middle of the lake.”
She looked at the Spanish tile under her feet. “Okay.”
Maxence nodded, biting his lower lip.
Rox planted her hands on her hips so that Maxence wouldn’t see them shake. “So what did you guys call him?”
Maxence stared at his feet, embarrassed. His mouth went tight, and he enunciated very precisely, “Prince Monster.”
ARTHUR'S WORK HERE IS DONE
In the kitchen, Cash was sitting at the table by the front window with Arthur. Empty cereal bowls stood on the table between them.
Cash was holding his spoon in his hand, pointing it at Arthur’s nose like he was going to shank him.
Arthur was inspecting the tip of the spoon as if something was clinging to it.
Both looked up when Rox came in, then looked over her shoulder when Maxence walked in behind her.
Arthur asked, “Are you packed?”
Rox asked, “For what?” but behind her, Maxence said, “Yes. We can leave whenever you want.”
“Where are you off to now?” Cash asked.
“Home,” Arthur said. “I have socialized all the kittens in Los Angeles, and so my work here is done.”
Cash raised an eyebrow. “More like you managed to coax Maxence and me into going to The Devilhouse with you, so you’ve tempted us enough with your evil ways.”
Arthur pretended to frown. “Evil lurks only in the hearts of men, not in our dicks. Support me here, Maxence.”
“I’m not getting involved in this conversation.” Maxence’s breezy tone didn’t seem serious, but it did sound like he had heard that line of reasoning far too often.