Brewster's Brood - Part 27
Added 2023-03-10 06:37:32 +0000 UTCPart Twenty-Seven
Zoe Hitchens – 3/9/2017 – Friday – 8:02 pm
She couldn’t believe that she’d somehow become the coordinating person for all the girls, but as she sat in the area with all the wooden tables and benches, there were girls from all the groups coming over to chat with her.
“He certainly seems like a nice guy,” one of the new girls said, Jordan maybe? But Zoe had trouble keeping all the names straight in her head, so she was making it a point to not get too hung upon on learning any of them. “But is he, like, actually a nice guy, or is that just, like, an act he’s putting on, now that he’s got so many women throwing themselves at him?”
“He doesn’t know why all these women are crawling all over him, but he’s doing his best to try and not just brush anyone off, but the people just keep coming, and the attention just keeps coming and he doesn’t know how to manage it all very well,” Zoe replied. “But he’s a good man deep down, and I think he’s more worried about hurting other people’s feelings than he is getting hurt right now, which isn’t what I expected him to be.”
“He’s a very kind and gentle lover,” Song said, offering a little timid smile into the conversation.
“That’s entirely dependent on what you want from him,” Kelly laughed. “I wanted him rough and tumble and he was entirely willing to give that to me.”
“You also went more than the extra mile to make sure it didn’t look like we were just after one thing,” Zoe told her. “Which, gotta tell you, hell of a thing to do for a bunch of bitches you barely know.”
“Either we’re all in this game together,” Kelly said, “or we’re all gonna get fucked on the backend. Last thing I want is for the game to go belly up, so that means some of us are going to have to do some things now and then to throw him off the trail, so he doesn’t figure out we’re all just trying to get knocked up. And I think it helped him feel a little bit more normal, because it meant we aren’t all trying to do the exact same thing.”
“How’s your ass?” Erika asked.
“Sore, but I kinda dig the soreness,” Kelly said with a sly smile. “He made sure it wasn’t too much for me, and I have to admit… he’s just generally a sweet guy.”
“I see all of the semi-famous girls like the Travers sisters aren’t here,” one of the new girls, Madison, said. She was a touring musician, but had never been the person in the spotlight, usually off to the side of the stage, playing rhythm guitar or bass while other people were doing the bits that got all the attention.
“They’re trying to avoid causing a scene, I think,” Zoe said. “Jenny said there are a number of ladies who worry that if they try and approach him in public, it’ll disrupt things too much. I know that’s why Bianca and Tanya from your group said they’d wait a few days before making an approach.”
“Waiting seems like it has way too many risks associated with it,” the new girl Zoe was now almost certain was named Jordan said. Learning all the names and backgrounds of ten new women each day was doing Zoe’s head in, but Jordan was the so-called ‘influencer,’ who thought she was basically just a hop, skip and a jump away from being as important as the Travers sisters, something Zoe just couldn’t wrap her head around. “We need to get in there and get noticed.”
“It’s a hundred-day event, Jordan,” Kelly scolded. “I mean, nobody has to listen to me, but I think giving the guy a day off now and again is probably for the best.”
“Except that if we don’t get knocked up, we don’t get anything,” Jordan whined. “And I want all this so I have something to talk about on my channel. Do you know how hard it was to pregenerate three months’ worth of content and make it look like it was done over time rather than all at once? It was, like, totally the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. Me and Team Jordan had to put in some, like, six-to-eight hour days, where, like, all we did was work. It was the fucking worst.”
Zoe wished she could reach over and slap the teenager across her face, but it wouldn’t have changed anything other than letting her feel better, so she kept her aggression to herself. The food truck gathering was starting to get very busy, as expected, but Zoe had expected more people to get their food and just go, and instead, it was starting to take on a backyard barbeque atmosphere.
There was a punk-pop band playing on a tiny little stage off to one side, with a handful of other acts lined up to take their turn on the stage at some point. Like most things in Oakland, it was going to go through half a dozen different styles in the time that most people would expect one or two. The next group scheduled to take the stage was an alternative hiphop group named Unoccupied Domiciles, two rappers and one guy with a turntable setup that he looked like he had great experience setting up and breaking down, just waiting for the punk band, who was called Break Job, to finish up their set.
“Everyone’s got their own agenda, and nobody’s telling anybody what they can and can’t do, but we’re all offering suggestions so that nobody feels cramped out or put on the outside,” Zoe said. “We want as many of us to do well as we can.”
“Although a bunch of you crazy bitches are probably going to try and stay in his life,” Jordan pouted. “Not that I blame you. That much money’s hard to turn down.”
“Not that hard to turn down,” Kelly said. “Sure, the benefits sound great, but just imagine how much attention would be on you if you decided to stay with him? Once you cross from millions into billions, the problems go up by an order of magnitude. One of the girls in my biochem class is the daughter of one of the richest tech investors in the valley, and she has to have a bodyguard traveling with her everywhere she goes so she doesn’t get kidnapped.”
“But they can afford that.”
“Sure, but do you want your life lived looking over your shoulder all the time? That sounds like a shitty way to go through life if you ask me. Yeah, it’d be awesome to always have the cutest shoes, or just be, like, on the personal call list for every fashion designer across the globe, but never knowing who you could safely talk to? That has to suuuuuck.”
“What’s the plan for tonight, Zoe?” Madison asked. “Do we have some sort of approach plan to try and get at least a girl or two in front of him?”
“Jenny seems to think we should ease off for a bit, maybe hit him up just as they’re closing up shop, but not to push too hard,” Zoe replied. “Be around while business is happening, but don’t try and overwhelm him while he’s working, otherwise he’s going to suspect something’s up. The last thing we need is him seizing up and deciding not to spend any time with anyone. That means we have to fit into his usual schedule rather than making him fit into what we want from him.”
The area was growing more crowded and the lines at each of the food trucks ran back nearly into the benches area, as Break Job was finishing with their last song to a smattering of applause. Zoe was a little surprised at how many people were just spontaneously showing up, but she’d heard that the food truck gatherings in the Bay Area tended to be almost like flashmob parties, where they would gain velocity and population up until they crested and the police came by to cut it off, to make sure it wasn’t getting too out of hand. She’d thought that had been a joke, but during the windup before Alpha group had been unleashed, she’d done her research and had found out that regularly these sorts of events often turned into full-out block parties if they weren’t contained or capped off by the police, and there was a game on tonight, which meant loads of people were out getting food before it got started.
Zoe could tell there were probably somewhere between ten and twenty of the contestants from the Brand game wandering around the area, but it could easily be more, because she hadn’t looked at the later groups. The women from the later groups were allowed to be around and observe, but they were under strict ‘do not engage’ rules which prevented them from doing anything more than briefly interacting with Max, if that.
“It’s really not easy waiting, knowing a bunch of you bitches have already gotten a bite at the apple,” Jordan pouted.
“Sure,” Zoe said, “but the trade off is that if you get knocked up too early, you’re probably going to have to rotate out of the game. If you just want to get pregnant and get out, more power to you, but there are lots of women who want to get a shot at getting into Max’s long term plans beyond just the quick flash.”
“Each girl’s gonna do what each girl’s gonna do,” Kelly said.
“You going long haul?” Jordan asked Kelly.
“Haven’t entirely decided,” Kelly sighed. “At first, I was total hard no, just wanted in and out and wanted to get on with my life, but… he’s just… just so…”
“Nice?” Zoe offered.
“Yeah, nice,” Kelly agreed. “But in a way that doesn’t feel mean or condescending or whatever. He genuinely wanted to make sure I was enjoying myself. Like, he saw the scars, and they didn’t bother him. Like, he didn’t let them define me in his eyes. In fact, he almost looked right past them, like they weren’t even there. Normally that’s all dudes focus on, even with me as hot as I am. They see the scars and suddenly, I go from ‘hot girl’ to ‘broken girl,’ and everyone wants to offer sympathy and coddle me, but Max? Max just acted like they weren’t even there. That was… well, I want a whole lot more of that. Maybe that’s from Max, or maybe that’s just what I’ve got to be on the lookout for from future partners, but damn, it was nice just to be a regular girl in some guy’s eyes again, instead of being somebody’s charity case.”
Zoe had seen the pictures of Kelly’s two scars and knew exactly how sizable they were, one on her calf, one on her thigh, forming a jagged wicked line on one of the girl’s legs that were way too prominent to be easily overlooked, and yet, she’d seen Max’s casual dismissal of them when she’d watched him and Kelly together. He hadn’t said anything about them because it had been clear to him, much like it would’ve been to any observer, that she didn’t want to be defined by those scars. “He’s good at seeing each of us for who we are, not what other people want us to be defined as.”
“Yeah, it was… unexpected. But nice.”
“Well, I’m definitely gonna make a go at staying with him,” Jordan said, although Zoe felt like that the girl was probably one of the least compatible people in the game for Max in the long run. Still, she was old enough to make her own mistakes.
“You can try, Jordan, but I wouldn’t hold your breath over it,” Erika laughed. “He’s probably not going to want to settle with someone young enough to be mistaken for his daughter everywhere he goes.”
“He’s going to be rich and powerful,” Jordan said with a frown. “He’s not only going to want someone young enough to be mistaken for his daughter; he’s going to want three or four of us.”
Zoe laughed a little, shaking her head. “Maybe wait until you’ve spent some time with him before you start making decisions about what he is and isn’t going to do.”
The girls all stopped talking as raindrops started falling down onto the open area, just a few at first, but very quickly, the tempo escalated and all the trucks began to shift into closedown mode, stopping taking orders and pulling their flaps in. It was rare for the weather to interrupt one of these gatherings, but not entirely unheard of, and as the rain started to hammer down it clear that within minutes, all the trucks would be shuttered up hard and getting ready to head on their way.
Max Brewster – 3/9/2017 – Friday – 9:18 pm
“That’s the last order, Frankie,” Max said, sliding a plastic bag over to the counter. “I’m going to make sure we’ve got everything put away and closed up. The last thing I want is us getting caught up in this storm. Sucks that it’s going to eat into our business, though.”
Max darted over to the back of the vehicle and shut down the generator, moving to stow it away as he began folding all of the flaps one after another, closing up the truck. Weather sometimes would cause problems, but it was rare for it to be bad enough that the whole collective would simply pack up and bail, but the rain wasn’t showing any sign of slowing down. If anything, it was starting to get heavier, pelting down in giant splattering sounds that were causing the truck to practically vibrate. The Bay area hadn’t been getting anywhere near enough rain for the last several years, but when it did start to rain, it could often turn into a disaster area and the tempo of the rain was only picking up more and more.
He didn’t want to bail out, but there was no way they were going to do business in this weather, and the fact that Shakes And Bakes was packing it in meant that everybody was going to be bailing for the night. The Shakes And Bakes guys had been known to persevere through just about anything, and the fact that they were already closed up and tying down the flaps meant Max and Frankie needed to hurry.
As Frankie handed out the last of the orders, Max struggled to get everything tucked away. Just as he had the last few drawers closed up, the rain started to hammer down on the outside of the truck. “We gotta get outta here, Max!” Frankie said, snapping the window shut, making sure everything in the cooking area was either in a drawer or strapped in to its holding place.
Five minutes later, they were slowly pulling out of the lot and heading onto the terrifying Oakland streets as the windshield wipers were doing their best to keep up with the weather, but all the drivers on the roads were taking everything incredibly slowly, and while Max wished they would move faster, deep down he was also rather thankful they were taking their time, because driving in this sort of weather was treacherous in regular cars, much less in the tank that was the food truck.
What should have been a fifteen minute drive home turned into a forty-five minute white-knuckle crawlfest, with Max refusing to get onto the freeways, simply because the intensity of the rain made him nervous about picking up speed.
By the time they’d gotten back to the house, the rain had shown absolutely no signs of picking up, and literally all Max wanted to do was to go to bed. Frankie, on the other hand, had other ideas. “C’mon, Max, let’s go out to a bar or something. It’s a Friday night! When was the last time we just went out an hung out at a bar on a Friday night like a couple of regular joes?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me, Frankie,” Max sighed. “With it pissing down rain like this, even getting to and from a bar’s going to be an utter shitshow. And I have been swamped with social activity for the last few days, so I think I’m just going to crawl into bed and get a good night’s sleep without anybody in the bed but me.”
“But Max–”
“No buts, Frankie. Tonight, I’m just going to sleep. In fact, I’m even turning my cell phone off and turning up my music. If anyone comes banging on my door, I’m not even going to answer it.” Max genuinely looked exhausted as he started walking up the stairs towards his apartment over the garage. “In fact, we’re not even going to bother with the morning rush tomorrow, Frankie. We’ll head out and start working the lunch run over at Fisherman’s Wharf in the city.”
“But Max!”
“Frankie! I’m fucking dead on my feet, man. I never thought I’d say this, but I need to just sleep! Okay? Let me… let me fucking sleep, brother.”
Frankie sighed at him then shrugged. “Yeah, okay.”
With that, Max unlocked the door of his apartment, stepped inside and then closed and locked the door behind him. After a quick shower and a light dinner, he was in bed and asleep, alone in his bed, before midnight on a Friday, for the first time in what had to be years.
Danny Garney – 3/9/2017 – Saturday – 12:01 am
“Yeah, I get it, Mrs. Churchill,” Danny said into his phone, “but the guy’s only human and we had to expect there was going to be some of this, where he just needed to bail out for a night. I’m a little surprised he made it this far, tell you the truth. Let him have his night off to sleep and recover his energy, and the girls can make a go at him tomorrow morning.”
“You’re sure we can’t get him out of bed tonight, Danny?” Mrs. Churchill asked him.
“Not if you want him to keep buying your story, boss. He’s in overload and he just needs a day to unwind. Frankie even said he snapped at him, so let’s give him a night to recoup and clear his head. I imagine we can get him back into the groove tomorrow if we play it smart.”
“You’re the best judge we have of his state of mind, Danny, so if you think we need to keep the girls in check for a night, we’re going to trust you on that.”
“I think I’m pretty sure about this one, boss. The last thing you want is him getting suspicious. Speaking of which, can I call you back? I’ve got something a little odd going on over here, and I want to make sure I’m not letting something get out of hand.”
“Problem?”
“Shouldn’t be, but I need to nip it in the bud fast.”
“Got it. Go keep our boy safe, Danny boy.”
“You know me, boss.” He ended the call and then started moving across the street, not too quickly, but intently enough so that people wouldn’t give him a second look. The thing about blending in was to move with purpose, but not to look rushed about it. Know where you’re going and keep that in mind, one of his instructors had taught him early on, and the lesson had saved Danny’s life more than a couple of times.
There were two women at the bottom of the stairs, each of which trying to discourage the other one, neither one having headed up the stairs to Max’s apartment yet. Both of them were Echo group, Gail, the Aussie, and Deepika, the Indian American linguistics scientist, and they were both whispering at each other in that loud, none too subtle tone people take when they’re having an argument but trying to stay quiet.
“Ladies, if you don’t mind, why don’t both of you follow me?” Danny said calmly and quietly. He could tell Max had the television on, and he was hoping it was loud enough that it would obscure what he was dealing with.
“We haven’t had a fair chanceyet, Danny,” Gail whispered to him. “It’s not fair.”
“Yes ma’am, but there’s plenty of time left. C’mon now, before he sees you.”
“What if he does?” Deepika said. “What if I started shouting for him to come down here?”
“Well,” Danny said flatly. “Then you’d probably get a brief squawk out before I knocked you flat on your ass and then I’d have to escort you back to the hotel and take you out of the game while my associate kept tabs on Max from her perch with her sniper rifle across the street.”
“Bullshit,” Gail whispered. “There’s nobody with a sni–”
Danny raised his left hand up, palm out, and a tiny little red dot appeared in the center of it. He clenched his fingers around it and it disappeared. “The rules are for your safety and his, ladies. And tonight, he’s just too exhausted to be out in public. That means everyone stands down. You’ll get your chances. Unless you really want to see if I can take you down quietly, which I’m happy to–”
“We’re going,” Gail said, backing away from the stairs, Deepika also backing away but going in the other direction, as if the two didn’t want to be standing next to each other.
“We all clear boss?” Heather’s voice said to him over the radio.
“Five by five,” Danny replied. “Thanks. I’m going to do a quick sweep and then take off for the night and leave him in your hands.”
“Gotcha.”
Normally Danny would just take off, but he decided it had been long enough that he should do a security sweep of Max’s house anyway. It wasn’t a big deal, and five minutes later, he was about to call it for the night, feeling like maybe he’d been overly cautious before he noticed that lock on the utilities cabinet on the side of the garage was actually not closed. He opened the cabinet and saw that all of their surveillance gear was there, as expected, but it looked like someone else had tapped in and spliced onto the line. He took some pictures and sent them over to both Lynne and Mrs. Churchill along with the note “May have a rat in the nest. Don’t want to unplug them but it wouldn’t hurt for Lynne to come have a look and see if she can figure out who it’s going to.”
“Good looking out Danny,” Mrs. Churchill sent back. “Will have Lynne over tomorrow when Max is out of the house.”
Danny frowned a little bit, glancing down one street, then the other, before heading over towards his motorcycle. There were definitely other people in the game they were going to need to keep tabs on…
Comments
Ok, so Mrs. Churchill found a tracker on Max’s truck and a similar patch in on the equipment at Ironwood several days ago. And since nothing has been said about it I guess she just forgot about it. Now here’s another mysterious splice into their equipment and it appears no one is particularly concerned. I’m a little shocked that Mrs Churchill isn’t freaking out over this.
OkieDokeDude
2023-07-14 02:55:16 +0000 UTCI don’t see how it’s going to get spun, planning on having 100 of them at the same time. Curious but it already feels unrealistic that someone wouldn’t pick up on the weirdness. 100 girls for 90 days? All in a sex club all waiting their turn? I’m curious what the plans are for the rest of this series. It’s going to be hundreds of chapters long though if all 100 days are written out, plus a whole lot more for the follow up. There better be a hell of a follow up.
Andrei
2023-07-09 13:37:24 +0000 UTCIs it just me, or is this whole lash-up of a dead man's prank starting to come apart at the seams a bit? Either way, awesome chapter.
Kaywye
2023-03-12 20:52:16 +0000 UTC