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Authors: Sophia Kenzie

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CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

 

HUNTINGTON HERALD

Interview with a Bad Boy

By Ashley Leigh

 

When you desire to be a journalist, to uncover the truth,
to offer a strong point of view, you know interviews are a large part of the
job. You read them, you watch them, you study them, but nothing prepares you
for sitting knee to knee with someone while you dig to the core of their being.
I could sit here, days after the fact, and analyze the interview, analyze every
word he said, every move he made, and I could bring my voice to the piece. That’s
what I do. I look at a situation and comment on it.

 

But when that situation is right in front of you, when
that situation has a face, and breath, and a silly nervous laugh, that
situation becomes a human being. That situation is a person.

 

That situation was Teddy.

 

Here is the interview I conducted with Theodore Vincent
Stoneguard IV this past Tuesday at six:

 

AL: So Teddy, I’ve heard you say before that you look
forward to the day your father hands his company over to you. What makes you
deserving to run a company of such magnitude?

 


 

 

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Teddy

 

 

…interview continues

 

“So Teddy, I’ve heard you say before that you look forward
to the day your father hands his company over to you. What makes you deserving
to run a company of such magnitude?”

“Wow, okay, you just want to jump in like that, huh?”

“I do.”

“I think we need to talk about the terms of this interview
before I answer any of your questions.”

“What terms? You offered me an interview; I took you up on
it. This is me interviewing you.”

“And what do I get in return?”

“Your story gets told.”

“Nah, not good enough.”

 

I had invited Ashley to my home that evening with the
intention of giving her the interview I had promised, but as I stared at her
across from me, I didn’t want to talk about myself. I wanted to talk about her.
She was still a mystery to me, and something about that just didn’t sit quite
right.

 

But I had a plan, and that plan started with me. I needed to
make her trust me, and the only way I could do that was by opening up to her. But
opening up to her in an interview? She could take that information and twist it
in a way that would most certainly sell papers. No. I needed to get her off the
record.

 

Even looking back at it now, I’m not sure if I ever truly
believed I’d be able to deceive her into falling in love with me without
falling for her in the process. I think I tried to convince myself I could, but
on some level, I knew the reality wasn’t there.

 

Or maybe on that same level, I actually did want to fall in
love with her?

 

“I’ll answer any questions you have, in any order you’d like
them, if you go out with me.”

“What? No.”

“A simple dinner. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Why?”

“Because I want to spend an evening with you. Not the
reporter you. Just you.”

“No you don’t.”

 

This was a different Ashley than I had seen that night in
her apartment, a different Ashley than in the library. That layer-deep
confidence I had seen in those instances had disappeared. I was asking her out
to dinner, which meant she would need to talk to me without the help of copious
amounts of alcohol. It was as if sex didn’t scare her; it was the connecting to
other people part that did. I was asking her to connect. She turned into a
terrified child right in front of me.

 

“Ashley,” I reached my hand out to her, “it’s just dinner.”

“It’s never just dinner.”

 

It never is just dinner, is it?

 

“No one thinks I can do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“My father’s job. No one thinks I can do it. Everyone knows
what parties I attend on the weekends, but no one knows the work I’ve been
putting in for years to understand the inner workings of Stoneguard Holdings. A
company, especially one as big as my family’s, has a heart, a bloodline, and it
needs to be treated as such. Turn your voice recorder back on, and I’ll answer
your questions… Is it recording?”

 

 

TS: You asked me why I think I deserve to be at the helm
of my father’s company. That question has so many answers, the first of which
being that it is my family’s business. One day, my father will decide to step
down from his position, and at that time, someone else will need to take over. I
have been groomed my entire life for that role, and I take pride in the fact
that this is my family’s legacy. It’s not just about money and power for me:
it’s love. Who, more than me, would see to it that that legacy stays intact? But
I know that’s not what you’re asking, Miss Leigh. You both heard of and have
written the stories that have made me out to be an irresponsible child of
wealth. And I’m not denying those allegations, but things aren’t always as they
seem. You know how people say that you learn from your mistakes? As the head of
a company, you must be able to take risks, confident risks, but mistakes come
at a much greater cost. You make a wrong decision and thousands of people could
lose their jobs. Now, while I’m still at a point where my mistakes affect no
one but myself, I’m testing my boundaries. Even my little poker night, which
was completely legal by the way, was just a way for me to learn responsibility,
strategies, and tactics. I organized, recruited, delegated, collected,
distributed, and profited. Those are all things that are now not foreign to me.
I can take these lessons I have learned and roll them into a bigger project. I
can take bigger risks. In no way am I saying that I will be ready to preside
over Stoneguard Holdings tomorrow, but when that day does come, I will have
taken every step necessary to ensure confidence in myself and everyone who will
report to me.

 

OMITTED

 

AL: That was… wow.

TS: See why I suggested that you start small?

AL: So you’ve done this before?

TS: Nope, just practiced. This is just another thing on my
checklist.

AL: Things to do before you become CEO?

TS: Something like that.

 

AL: Tell me, what’s your favorite thing to do on a
Sunday?

 

OMITTED

 

TS: That’s a much better opening question: simple, original,
and yet still personal.

AL: Ha. Thanks. It feels much better. Are you going to
answer it?

TS: I will.

 

TS: Nothing. Honestly. I never want to be one of those
people who work their entire lives. I’ve grown up surrounded by these people,
as I’m sure you can imagine, and I have watched them slowly deteriorate over
the years. I have watched as they forgot why they started working in the first
place. I have watched as they forgot that money only goes so far. For that
reason, I don’t work on Sundays. I started this habit when I was still a
teenager, and I have yet to stray from it. It never mattered to me if there was
a test or paper due that Monday. I worked hard the rest of the week so that my
Sundays would be free.

 

AL: So then, for what do you save your Sundays?

 

TS: Relaxing, reading, taking a stroll on the beach,
spending time with my family… but really I’m just keeping up the habit so that
I don’t turn into those people I have been watching for so many years. I hope
to one day have children of my own, and I want them to know me.

 

AL: Are you saying you don’t know your father?

 

TS: I didn’t say that. I know exactly who my father is.

 

OMITTED

 

AL: Care to enlighten us?

TS: This is one of those questions that I would like to save
for another time.

AL: You said I could ask you anything.

TS: Ashley, please. Not this.

 

AL: Since this is a short column, I’d like to ask you one
more question.

 

TS: Ask away.

 

AL: Sitting here, you seem calm, collected, and
determined. You know exactly who you want to be. So, why not take it now? Why
the parties, the drugs, the girls?

 

TS: Because I can. Call it a privilege or a curse, but my
life is decided for me. I learned at a very young age what my path would be. You,
Ashley, you need to make a name for yourself. You need to go to school, take on
odd jobs to pay the bills, volunteer at homeless shelters to show that you’re
giving of your time, network with people who could possibly help you along the
way… I mean the list goes on. Then, in your free time, you can follow your
dream. You can write about the politics of third world countries, find
different outlets to submit your work to, and then pray your pieces get
published. Most likely, they won’t right away, so you’ll have to keep trying,
keep writing, keep meeting people. Your path is a long one, and once you’re
sure it’s the one you want to take, you have to focus your way down it. Mine
will still be there when I’m ready to take that sprint. So right now, I play. I
take risks. I do all the things I will not be able to do once I start my race.

 

AL: Are you trying to make me jealous by saying that your
life is so much easier than mine?

 

OMITTED

 

TS: That’s another question.

AL: It’s part two of the same question.

TS: You’re pretty slick.

AL: I know.

 

TS: Not at all. Sure, the money, the stability is all
there, but think about this: when you were growing up, your parents told you
that you could do anything you set your mind to, right?

 

AL: Yes.

 

TS: You told them you wanted to be an astronaut, a doctor,
the president, a pop singer… and they told you to follow your dreams. Right?

 

AL: In so many words…

 

TS: Mine simply shook their heads and reminded me that I
had a duty to my family. Now, I’m not saying my parents were in the wrong, and
I’m sure you’re more than convinced that I’m excited for the path that I’ve
been set on, but imagine being eight years old and telling your parents that
you want to be a cowboy when you grow up. That is such a ridiculous dream,
isn’t it? It’s not at all a job that one can attain in the twenty-first
century. But instead of buying me a cowboy hat and one of those horse heads on
a stick, at eight years old, I was taught about responsibility. I was taught
the harsh truth of reality. I was taught never to dream.

 

OMITTED

 

AL: So, what’s your dream job?

TS: Does it matter?

AL: It does to me.

TS: You know, part of me still wants to be a cowboy.

 

 

“I like Italian.”

“What?”

“For dinner. I like Italian.”

“Are you saying you’ll go out with me?”

“I am.”

 

It was still that same Ashley who had walked into my Upper
West Side home just an hour or so before. She was still shy and uncertain,
still missing that layer of confidence. It was beautiful. She was beautiful.

 

She took two steps toward me, lifted to her toes, and
lightly pressed her lips to mine. She kissed me ever so gently, but it was also
ever so perfect. Maybe she wasn’t missing her confidence. Maybe this is what
she looked like when she had all the confidence in the world.

 

“How about next Tuesday at six?”

“Next Tuesday at six is perfect.”

 

I walked her to the door and bid her goodnight, finding
myself wishing I could fast-forward my week just for another hour with her.

 

But I never did get that dinner. Once my father read that
article, he decided I was getting too close to her. Her saw her as my downfall.
I didn’t shut her up; instead, I was reeling her in, I was letting her see a
part of me that no one should be allowed to see. He made arrangements for her
to spend the next few semesters studying abroad.

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