Shallow Games

By Hernan Penaherrera

The Terzetto brothers, separated by career and life choices since college, find themselves reunited after 20 years. Jonathan and Harold, discover that the dating scene they once knew is no longer the same and that the rules of the game have changed. With Peter's guidance, they enter into a new world of emotional and sexual manipulation, learning to play and conquer the “Shallow Games.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hernan Penaherrera
• Release date: Oct 25, 2012
• ISBN: 9781938701801

Hernan Penaherrera

Hernan Peñaherrera was born in New York City and is currently living in Chicago suburbs.

Book preview

Special Smashwords Edition

Shallow Games

Romance is calculated

like the game of Chess

(a Terzetto Brothers Novel – Volume 1)

Hernan Peñaherrera

Shallow Games (a Terzetto Brothers Novel – Volume 1)

Special Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2012 Hernan Peñaherrera. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.

The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

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Shallow Games

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

The genesis of Terzetto’s world.

Chapter 2

Beyond uniqueness brings freedom.

Chapter 3

Men’s marriage ends freedom.

Chapter 4

Passivity is one’s folly.

Chapter 5

Friends are single minded.

Chapter 6

Past blunders bring grief and misery.

Chapter 7

One’s tolerance is chosen ignorance.

Chapter 8

Preparation meets opportunity.

Chapter 9

Yesterday and the future aren’t today.

Chapter 10

Words and behavior – men’s two faults.

Chapter 11

The center of life’s compass.

Chapter 12

Starting over takes small steps.

Chapter 13

Regrets teach us how to live.

Chapter 14

The reunion party brothers.

Chapter 15

Peter’s discordant proposal.

Chapter 16

A salacious night.

Chapter 17

Jonathan leaves Chicago.

About the Author

Prologue

The Terzetto brothers, Peter, Jonathan, and Harold, met at their favorite sports bar and shared anecdotes on various topics. Eighties songs played in the background as they sat at the bar where Vanessa, a bartender, attended them regularly.

Hey Pet, I just saw an ugly fat guy who approached a gorgeous woman. They chatted briefly and left together. How is this possible? Harold asked dumbfounded.

Shallowness makes the game captivating. It’s all in the game and the chase to win the prize, depends how the game is played. I will show you guys the psychology behind the scene, Peter enlightened Jonathan and Harold.

Women are great at this game because it’s our world, Vanessa cheered.

Chapter One

The genesis of Terzetto’s world.

Peter, Jonathan, and Harold were raised in the quiet but beautiful town of Geneva, Illinois. Large homes and businesses around town were remnants of the first Dutch settlement. Their neighborhood had cascading trees pleasantly hovering over the quiet smooth side road with its sparkling leaves. The scenery of a visual grassy tunnel overshadowed the entire block. Tall trees with thick trunks, along with their rich newly-sprouting leaves, often became an inviting location for convening birds that sang at daybreak. A gentle summer breeze blew on the leaves, which gave its refreshing scent.

The three brothers graduated from high school, attended the University of Chicago, and they developed different dating perspectives, which had influenced their decisions.

Jonathan got married after college. He and his wife then moved into a rich neighborhood, Barrington Hills.

One morning, before going to work, he walked over to his driveway and picked up his delivered newspaper. Suddenly, he heard a cheerful voice.

Good morning Jonathan! Have a nice day! His neighbor greeted him while he mowed his lawn.

You too, Tim! He acknowledged him with a grin and then waved, got into his car, and drove off.

Heading eastbound from Barrington Hills on Interstate 90, The Kennedy Expressway, the splendid sunrise merged with the distant horizon. It was a pleasant morning in August, partly cloudy, with a temperature in the lower sixties. Jonathan drove at a comfortable speed until he saw the vehicles’ brake lights. They lit up like Christmas lights as he headed towards downtown. Then the moving traffic came to a complete stop after going through the toll. The Tri-State toll way, I-294, and Rosemont traffic frustrated the flow as vehicles slowly merged onto several lanes headed on eastbound I-90.

He lowered the window and heard the traffic commotion. The center console of his 2011, metallic navy blue, BMW 750Li alerted him to his brother Peter’s incoming call. He answered through the hand-free speaker, Hey brother, what’s going on? I have a lot to tell you Jon! Peter exclaimed.

Meanwhile, the CTA Blue Line gripped his immediate attention, and he temporarily ignored his brother. The westbound train, a string of eight cars, smoothly swayed on the median of Interstate 90 as it slightly banked towards the Rosemont Station. The hollow sound, which overshadowed their conversation, from the eastbound train suddenly came behind him and mildly rattled along on fragile tracks as he stagnantly sat there in traffic, stranded in the left lane. It echoed towards the Harlem Avenue station.

When he saw the Nagle Avenue exit sign, the right lane began to move a little faster than two lanes. He then changed lanes to follow the traffic flow until he saw the Lawrence Avenue exit, which began to slow down the traffic once again. A thought ran across his mind wishing he were on that train. The ‘L’ traveled at fifty-five miles per hour as it sliced through traffic like a butter knife; meanwhile, vehicles and trucks crawled at fifteen miles per hour. Shockingly, a child on the ‘L’ distracted him. The foolish child leaned towards the window, giggled, and stuck out his tongue while he mocked the stranded drivers when he waved his middle finger at them.

Where is his father? Unbelievable! he questioned aloud in disbelief.

Peter interrupted him. Who are you referring to?

I’m sorry, a kid on the train behaved foolishly, Jonathan stated.

Are you serious? That’s funny but dumb on his part, Peter joked.

He forgot about his brother being on the speakerphone. Jonathan hoped he would catch up with the line at the stop in order to get a closer look at the boy, but the ‘L’ already left the station. The disappointed passengers missed the ‘L’ and they waited for the next train. The station’s roof panel had a distinctive look and it was painted sky-blue to designate the West-Eastbound CTA line.

Chicago’s tallest tower is often used as a compass by residents and tourists to direct their directions on a clear day. Jonathan knew he was approaching downtown when he saw the tower. The eastbound train passed him again. He wanted to speak but had to wait until it passed.

I’m sorry, the ‘L’ passed, and I didn’t hear you. As you were saying, he again stated.

I met three gorgeous women last weekend. They want to hook up with us for cocktails this coming weekend, Peter exclaimed.

Really? That’s great! Jonathan blurted.

This traffic really is getting to me! Listen Peter, I have to go, I’ll let you know about it later, he conveyed in frustration.

He observed how several drivers on the highway, in front and beside him, handled their daily commute. Anxious tailgaters drove too close behind vehicles and honked their annoying horn, hoping other drivers would make way for them. Gridlocks and highway accidents frustrated the flow, making it impossible for anyone to change lanes. Anger and highway frustration often flared, and he saw one driver squeeze his rubber ball. He saw another driver insert his index finger into his hairy nose as if he dug for gold. Then he pulled it out and looked at it closely to see if he had any dry snot on his nail. Jonathan remembered the road etiquette his father instilled in him twenty-nine years ago.

Son, when you get your license, it will be imperative to use the vehicle’s center frame as a guide to block the driver’s torso.

It confirmed what his father had advised when he noticed this subconscious pattern among drivers as vehicles moved slightly forward to avoid eye contact with other drivers.

The traffic moved very slowly but it was not fast enough. During the morning rush hours, heading east on I-90, the freeway slowed down as it merged with other major intersections. Figuratively, the Edens Expressway overpass became a quantum leap transporter for daily commuters as they merged with Interstate 90, the Kennedy Expressway. Now the six lanes became the fourteen-lane expressway, including four express lanes, which had once been a western suburb of excavated neighborhoods that stretched for miles.

At 6:33 AM, his wife called. As he was about to greet her, her loud voice was heard from his end of the phone.

Why didn’t you take out the garbage? Sara asked him in a scolding tone.

I’m sorry, I forgot. I will do it when I get home. Listen, I have to go now. Bye! He bid her farewell.

Then the phone rang and it was Sara again. He didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of having the last word. Therefore, he refused to answer her. It rang constantly. He finally turned off the phone and kept driving.

The traffic made him a little tense and he powered up the window in order to disconnect the external madness. Quietness surrounded the well-insulated luxury sedan, which made his drive more comfortable. The car’s superb sound system eased up his anxiety while he listened to smooth jazz. The energetic rich urban sound gave him an appreciation for Chicago’s skylines, a city with deep history and diverse cultures.

At 6:51 AM, he finally exited onto the Ohio East. There were several tall condominiums with views across the bridge, towards Orleans Street. He saw the billboard advertising mounted on the elevated train structure beam above Franklin Street. He saw patrons buying hot cups of delicious coffee and fresh dark chocolate muffins. The breakfast image subliminally made him hungry. He decided to grab a cup inside the gas station on the corner of North LaSalle and West Ontario Street. After driving into the station, the gas gauge flashed on his digital instrument panel; he was just in time to get gas.

I can’t believe this! It takes a hundred dollars to fill up this SUV! A woman complained while she pumped her gas across from him. She drove an eighty-five thousand dollar vehicle, a Cadillac Escalade.

If you sell the truck, you will save a hundred dollars guaranteed! He joked.

Shut up, you dork! Who’s talking to you? She snapped. He remained quiet and drove off to work.

The urban sounds in many cities display their distinct busy characteristics. The overwhelming commotions like annoying car horns, buses, police sirens, construction sites, and pedestrians’ loud conversations fill the busy streets and avenues.

His office was on Michigan Avenue, not too far from the service area, directly across from the Water Tower. Jonathan, a successful insurance manager, worked at Paul’s building. Paul, Jonathan’s father-in-law, owns several prominent buildings and prime real estate in Chicago and the suburbs.

Paul came from an ultra-wealthy family, as opposed to Jonathan who came from a far western Chicago suburb.

Chapter Two

Beyond uniqueness brings freedom.

Peter had finished talking with Jonathan at 6:17 AM. Sandra wondered if he had any plans that evening. She enjoyed the night before at Peter’s 14,200 square foot luxurious penthouse, which overlooks the heart of Chicago. It’s anchored at 401 North Wabash Avenue, on the northern bank of Chicago’s river that captures the wide and steep-sided gorge of the skyline. The rippling river flows from the great lake to the south branch, which runs under 20 unique bridges, connecting it to Wacker Drive. From his 89th floor bedroom, Chicago’s breathtaking view exhibits its exquisiteness and urban distinctiveness.

Not tonight! I have plans, he said while he faced the huge window. He placed his right hand on his chin while his left hand was behind his back as he thought about the weekend.

Are you seeing other women? she scoffed. He ignored her presumptuous question.

Why are you avoiding the question? Since we have slept together, now I have a right to know your business! She presumed.

If that’s the case, we shouldn’t see each other after today, he declared.

Fine, it’s your loss! I have a lot to offer. You will call me and will soon realize what you have lost, she challenged.

Don’t flatter yourself! I have women in my life. Don’t assume what you have is unique and it will keep me from dating other women. Just because we had sex last night doesn’t mean I want to be in an exclusive relationship with you, he reasoned harshly.

Sex? Is that what we had last night? I can’t believe what I’m hearing! I honestly thought we made love, she shouted as she stormed into the bathroom.

Inside the master bathroom, the gray lava marble floor matched the walls. Huge jetted bathtub, enclosed glass shower, grayish-white granite countertop, built-in surround-sound speakers, and recessive lighting, which provided a smoothing tone.

On the left was a spacious walk-in closet, large enough to be a bedroom. Four walls were covered with Italian red oak furniture