Love After All, page 27
At two o’clock his father called him into his office.
“You wanted to see me?” Jackson asked.
“Yes, have you seen the overnight projected ratings?” Marcus, standing, dropped a few pages on his desk. “You need to get back on air. And what’s going on with that other situation, did you get it taken care of?”
Jackson didn’t expect to have his father bombard him with questions as soon as he entered his office. “No, not yet,” he said.
“Look, we’ve got to get this finished.”
“I know.”
“You don’t look too upset,” Marcus said, seeing Jackson’s distracted yet calm demeanor.
“I’ve just got other things on my mind.”
“What’s more important than getting this situation cleaned up? You obviously have no idea how damaging it can be. Your mother’s dead but this scandal can still damage us.”
“Tell me about the Cooperman deal.”
“What?” Marcus asked.
“The deal with Cooperman, from last night,” Jackson specified.
“Well, it’s about time you finally came around. Good, we can reassess the particulars. Cooperman will be thrilled, and Shauna, no doubt, will be ecstatic.”
“I’m just curious about the details. I assume George initiated the deal.”
“No, actually Eric suggested it.”
“I see. How exactly did you meet Eric?”
“I know what you’re thinking. I might have been set up for some kind of scam. But you’re wrong. An old colleague introduced us, someone I trust, and believe me, he’s definitely on the up-and-up. He checked into Eric’s background and did a thorough search. He came up clean.”
“Who’s the old friend?” Jackson asked.
“Percy Lincoln.”
Jackson’s mouth went dry. “Percival Lincoln?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you know him?”
“He was a friend of your mother’s from back East. She introduced us years ago.”
As if a lightbulb had just turned on, Jackson instantly knew Lincoln’s motivation. He’d been blackmailing his mother. That’s how he had copies of the checks. And as a cop he’d easily pulled her files and kept them. That’s why none of this ever came out. There was never anything on record because he had the files.
“They’re conning you, Dad,” Jackson said. Marcus laughed. Jackson looked confused. “Did you hear me?”
“Yeah, I heard you.”
“And?”
Marcus chuckled again, shaking his head. “Remarkable, Eric told me that you’d say that.”
“He what?”
“Jackson, I tried to offer you an olive branch and you throw it in my face. I wanted you in on this deal with me. I told Eric as much. But he told me that it would never happen and it appears that he was right.”
“Dad, listen to me, Eric Hamilton is a con man. He’s conning you, and this deal you think you’re doing, it’s all a scam…”
“Jackson, please, this is just pathetic. Be a man. Let it go. I won. I just gave Eric Hamilton ten million dollars in investment money this morning. At a fifty percent return, I’m looking at a five-million-dollar investment at one-tenth the price. I intend to approach the board with a firm deal in hand.”
“It’s not going to happen.”
Marcus chuckled again. “Fine, let’s play your game. Why should I believe you?”
“Because you’re my father and I’m trying to protect you and it’s the truth. You have a friend on the police force. Have him look up Eric Hamilton and Percival Lincoln.”
Marcus frowned. “My father thought so little of me and my business skills that he handed over the family company to your mother. Yeah, it’s true, everything in that file is true. She had a police record, she conned people for a living. Then her faith was just as rewarding as she continued the insult by leaving the company to you. But all that’s changed. It’s my turn. This cable venture is all mine and my abilities will be recognized. Now, if you don’t mind I need to get back to work. I have a lot to do. In twenty-four hours I’ll have the money for the down payment on Cooperman’s cable company and then all bets are off. I won’t need the shares to buy in.”
“What shares?”
“My shares and your mother’s shares.”
“That’s the majority. Even if Jess and I put ours together it wouldn’t add up. You leveraged them?”
“Of course. Where else was I supposed to get the funds to put this deal in motion? But it doesn’t matter now since I’ll get the cash from Eric.”
“I can’t believe this.”
“Believe it,” Marcus said proudly.
“You don’t understand. You have no idea what you’ve done. You just gave away ten million dollars to a con man who will be turning over escrowed majority shares to George Cooperman.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, he’d never.”
“Wouldn’t he?”
“Fine, if you’re so sure that this is all a scam, then marry Shauna,” Marcus said quickly. “He’d never do that if you married his daughter.”
Jackson looked at his father and shook his head, then walked out.
After Jackson left, Marcus sat at his desk contemplating the conversation. A small prickly feeling churned in his stomach. Ten minutes later he picked up the phone and called his friend at city hall.
Jackson left wordlessly, knowing that he still had to save his father, the company, even from himself. As soon as he got to the office door Jessie called to him. “I’m glad you’re here, we need to talk.” They walked into his office and she took a seat across from his desk.
“Okay,” Jackson said as he looked at his watch and sat down. “This can’t take long. I need to take care of a few things this afternoon. What’s up?”
“That’s exactly what I want to know from you. What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” he asked evasively.
“Shauna stopped by my office earlier.”
“You, too, huh?”
“She seems to think you have a problem on your hands.”
“You mean other than her?”
“Yeah, Samantha.” She paused, watching the muscle in his neck twitch. “You know that I make it a point not to interfere in your personal life, but if there is something I need to know—”
“What do you think about Samantha?”
Jessie smiled. “She’s nice, funny, smart and much too good for you,” she said jokingly. “She’s also hiding something and so are you.”
Jackson knew that he couldn’t keep anything from his sister for too long. She was too perceptive and had a nose for the truth. “What are you doing this evening?” he asked.
“I have a couple of parties to attend, why?”
“I’d like you to stop by my house later.”
“I can do that. Any particular reason?”
“Yeah, we need to clear the air. There’s something you should know.”
“Tell me now,” she said.
“No, I need to clear up a few things first.”
“All right, I’ll be there this evening,” she said, standing and walking to the door. “I can’t wait.”
Chapter 19
This was it.
Samantha looked skyward at the massive structure in front of her. Cooperman Enterprises looked like any ordinary office building, except it was bigger and grander with a well-defined hint of superiority. Climbing above the clouds, the building seemed to go on forever as huge smoke-coated windows surrounded the street level, blocking any hint of visibility.
She entered the main lobby, then walked directly to the security desk and announced her name. The guard made a phone call confirming her appointment. After a few minutes he nodded, then hung up and asked her to follow him. She did. They walked to the bank of elevators down a wide marble hall. He stopped at the last elevator, inserted a familiar-looking key and the elevator doors opened instantly.
He held them open as she got on. He followed and inserted the same key. The penthouse light illuminated. “Mr. Cooperman’s assistant will meet you,” he said, then turned and got off just as the elevator doors closed.
As the elevator climbed to the penthouse, Samantha used the time to calm her nerves. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. But still, every nerve in her body was on edge. She adjusted her jacket and casually released the first button on her camisole, exposing the soft swell of her breasts.
Seconds later the doors opened and a prim angular man stood smiling, backlit by white lights. “Please follow me, Mr. Cooperman is expecting you,” he said softly. She nodded and followed him down a brilliantly lit white marble hall to a sparkling glass door beyond which everything was even whiter, gleaming as intensely as the sun. She winced at the brilliance. Then as soon as she entered the private suite she smelled the distinct odor and sneezed.
George’s assistant turned to her instantly, seemingly bemused. He knocked on the door and opened it. She walked in. “George, may I call you George?” she asked. He nodded. “George,” Samantha said, clearing her throat as she was escorted into his office by his assistant. George was seated at his desk typing on his laptop computer. Samantha smiled broader, focusing on the desk in the center of the room. Perfect timing, at least she didn’t have to get him to turn it on.
George stood up, greeting her. Dressed in a formal business suit, he straightened his tie, readjusted his buttoned vest and grabbed his jacket, putting it on as he approached.
“Ms. Lee,” George said, walking toward her nodding to dismiss his assistant. “I’m delighted you called this morning. I was just thinking about you.” He quickly assessed her, glancing briefly at her face, then down to her tailored pantsuit and the lacy silk camisole beneath. His smile looked overwhelmingly pleased.
“Really? What a coincidence, I was just thinking about you, too.” Clearing her throat once more, she looked around admiringly as George beamed. “Excuse me, I think I’m a bit nervous meeting you again.” The flattery worked like a charm. George was overjoyed by the effect he presumably had on her.
“No need to be nervous, my dear, we’re all friends here. Perhaps a glass of water?”
She looked around to see if he had a water pitcher, but he didn’t. “Oh, no, don’t bother, I’m sure I’ll be fine in a few minutes.” She walked farther in and looked around the huge white room. “George, thank you so much for sending the limo to pick me up, that was so sweet.”
“You’re very welcome, no trouble at all.”
“Want to hear a secret?” she asked. He nodded eagerly. “I love the beach, but I must confess I love the city even more—the shopping, the theater and the museums, I love them. There’s an exciting energy in the city that you just can’t deny. I think it kind of recharges me.”
George nodded, looking amazed. “I completely agree. As a matter of fact, I said something quite similar in an interview years ago.”
“Is that right?”
“It looks like we have something in common.”
“I’m sure we have quite a bit in common, George,” she said sweetly.
“Yes, of course. So tell me, you and Jackson—”
“Oh, my, George,” she gushed excitedly, “your office is absolutely stunning.” She walked over to his white antique desk while slyly reaching into her jacket. “This is absolutely divine, French eighteenth century original, is it not?” she asked, already knowing the answer, having just read about him and his penchant for expensive things, particularly expensive and white, on the Internet.
“Good eye. Yes, it is. I purchased this piece at an auction a few years ago. As soon as I heard about it I had to have it,” he said suggestively.
“I can see why, it’s incredible. I’ve never seen a desk like this in white. It’s breathtaking. How is it possible?”
“It’s a bleached-blond oak, quite rare, there’s only three left in the entire world.”
“Remarkable.”
“This desk cost just over half a million dollars,” he said proudly, “but well worth the investment.”
“Wow,” she said, then cleared her throat again. “I can definitely see that. It’s marvelous. May I?” she asked, preparing to walk around to the back.
“Of course,” he said happily. “Please, sit, get comfortable.”
She opened her jacket, drawing his eyes instantly to the form-fitting camisole, then sat down in the large white chair and gently touched the pallid wood surface. “Oh, wow, it feels so smooth.” She laid her cheek on the hard wood and inhaled. Her eyes shifted quickly as she felt the underside of the desk, then spread her arms wide, seemingly to accidentally connect with his laptop-computer ports.
“You have incredible taste, George,” she said, standing up and looking across the room. An abstract painting on the wall across the room caught her attention. “That is beautiful,” she gasped as her hand was busily attaching a small amplifier to his computer output.
George smiled and chuckled. “Thank you, my dear. That is an original Saunders.”
“Saunders, I’ve never heard of him. Is he a local artist?” The receiver in place, she removed her jacket and dropped it to cover the small amplifier wire attached to his computer. She coughed a few times to cover the clicking sounds.
“Are you sure you’re all right? Perhaps water?”
“No, no, I’m fine, really, just a tickle.” She coughed again, prompting George to casually step away.
Yet true to form, George gushed about his taste in art, the price and how he was able to get it cheap by intimidating the seller. They walked over to the painting together. She examined it in detail, listening to his continued boasting.
When he finally finished, she turned and looked around the room, walking around admiringly. George followed, continuing to boast as she stopped to admire each piece.
“Come, have a seat with me.” She smiled as she led him to the Italian leather sofa across the room from his desk. “We should consult.”
“Yes, indeed, I’m looking forward to it.”
She sat down, clearing her throat. George sat down beside her just as her cell phone beeped twice. She excused herself and looked at the number, then pressed a few buttons and turned back to him. “I must say, George,” she began, then cleared her throat again and coughed. He leaned back slightly. “It was such a pleasure meeting you last night. I, of course, have read all about you in magazines. Your career, your business savvy, you are my idol. And of course, meeting you in person was a dream come true for me.”
George smiled and instantly began a two-minute biographical monologue and a self-accolade. She seemed completely enthralled, ignoring her cell phone as it beeped again.
George, a megalomaniac, impressed by her admiration of him, inched closer and suggested they have an early dinner at his private club. She was about to answer but instead began coughing uncontrollably. George moved away as she requested a glass of water. He stood, hurried to his desk and called his assistant to bring in a glass of water quickly.
She followed him, sitting down at his desk again. He backed away, giving her space. His assistant rushed in with the glass of water. He attempted to hand it to George, who in turn motioned for him to give the water directly to Samantha. Just as the assistant gave it to her she dropped it, splashing water all over the antique desk.
“Oh, no, I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, moving his computer away quickly as George and his assistant secured the drenched papers and files. She began coughing again.
“Get more water,” George ordered his assistant, who instantly hurried out again.
“Oh, can I get mineral water possibly?” she asked as the coughing fit continued.
“Of course, of course,” he said anxiously, then reached over the desk to call his assistant again just as Samantha coughed near his hand. George instantly withdrew his hand, looking at it as if it were contaminated. “I’ll go hurry it up,” he said, rushing to the office door, opening it just as his assistant attempted to knock with another glass of water. A brief conversation sent the assistant hurrying away to find mineral water, with George right behind him, wiping his hands with a handkerchief.
Samantha, finally in the office alone, went to work. With her jacket for cover she quickly entered several keystrokes, completing her program’s retrieval. Then she disconnected the device and removed the computer hookup. It was done.
She quickly sat back just as seconds later George came bursting through the door, flying back across the room toward her. Her heart nearly stopped as she began coughing for real. She looked up, fearful that she had somehow overlooked a security device and she’d been caught. But to her relief George only rushed over to hand her the glass of mineral water. Her hands shook as she took the water and sipped it. Then, finally in control, she exhaled slowly.
“I’m so sorry, George, this is so embarrassing.”
“Not at all, dear, not at all,” he said, having backed away, retreating to the far side of the desk as far away from her as possible lest she cough on him again.
“Maybe we should just do this another time,” she suggested, knowing that she needed to leave quickly.
“Yes, yes, that would probably be best, of course.”
“Could I have a rain check on that early dinner, too?” she asked.
“Yes, anytime, just give me a call.” He began pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. “Once you’re over your cough,” he added, walking to his office door.
She grabbed her jacket and gathered her purse from the sofa, then hurried to the door. “Thank you, George, I’ll call you soon,” she said, reaching out to take his large hand. He withdrew slightly, nervous as their hands touched, but she didn’t let go.
“Absolutely, I look forward to it,” he said, now anxious to get rid of her, knowing that he had no intention of seeing her again with or without the cough.
She squeezed his hand softly. “Thank you, George, it was good meeting you. Goodbye.”
“Likewise, goodbye,” he said as he wiped his hand, looking past her for his assistant. She walked out as his assistant rushed in past her with several cans of disinfectant spray.
As soon as she left the suite she removed the small device from her pocket and slipped it into her purse. The deed was done. She walked to the elevators and pressed the button. She realized that she’d been holding her breath the whole time since she’d left his office. Her heart was beating like she’d just run a mile in thirty seconds. She pressed the elevator button again and looked back at the suite entrance.
