All of Your Business, page 5
Lydia Richmond probably wasn’t on that list.
Neither was Didi. After Monte hit on her several years before at DEI’s annual Christmas party, she let him know right away she wasn’t playing. Based on the office gossip, Didi expected to be fired the next day. But for some unknown reason, Monte kept her on.
Even so, she never attended another after-hours party. Better safe than assaulted.
When the men returned to their seats, Didi gathered her thoughts. She smoothed the sides of her A-line skirt. She touched her earrings to make sure both were in.
Tilting back in his chair, Monte coughed. He knew all of Didi’s nervous tics, and he let her know when he noticed.
She refocused her thoughts. Buena cara.
Time to knock this one out of the park.
A stack of spiral-bound documents waited on the table. As different as she and Monte were, they preferred to do some things the old-fashioned way. Technology could be a wild card. All it took was one glitch. Malfunctioning PowerPoints. Slow Wi-Fi. Rather than take any chances, they carried paper versions of everything.
Today, Didi was more than grateful. After her sleepless night, and the adrenaline rush from running so late, she already flirted with exhaustion. She could dig deep for another hour. She’d done so lots of times in college.
Thanking Mr. Akamba for his patience, she began her presentation. “I’m here to tell you why Dynamic Energy International should acquire GhanaGold’s Ashanti mine. Simply put, both companies will benefit in the long run as well as the short. While Richmond Enterprises is looking merely to succeed, DEI is looking to survive.”
A confused scowl soured Monte’s round face. He seemed blindsided. And for good reason.
When he coughed again, Didi ignored him. “By allowing us to acquire the mine, you strengthen two companies, not one. For Richmond Enterprises, this acquisition is nothing more than a line on a spreadsheet. Dynamic Energy International will nurture the mine’s profitability as it will nurture our long-term growth. In short, your sacrifice leads to our survival.”
Sitting down, she pulled a ballpoint pen from her purse. “Let’s explore how to make this happen. It will require patience from both parties. It will also be worth the effort.”
“I find this is true of all good things,” Mr. Akamba said.
Didi acknowledged his affirmation with a nod. “Why don’t we turn to page seven?”
Chapter Five
Seated at his desk, Ben divided his attention between a trio of screens without absorbing any of their contents. He was supposed to be catching up on business after his long weekend in the States. Even with his transatlantic work sessions, he missed a lot while he was away.
Instead, his brain chased a single fact like a kitten chased its tail.
Didi Velasquez worked for DEI. Worse, she was employed by that American braggart whose company was mostly smoke and mirrors. Even though Ben knew next to nothing about Didi, he felt certain she could do better. Was she aware of her boss’ reputation for being all mouth and no trousers?
DEI always seemed to be one quarter away from bankruptcy. Its owner was entirely to blame. Thomm had inveigled his way into the business world’s upper crust by pretending to be the same. He used DEI to perpetuate his reputation as a cunning businessman.
No one with any good sense believed him.
Why on earth would Didi work for that man?
Ben’s mobile shivered against his palm.
Office. Now please.
Ben didn’t bother to reply. Or to ask for specifics. In his mother’s mind, there was only one office.
Hers.
Rather than take the lift, Ben climbed the one flight of stairs to the thirty-fifth floor. The reinforced glass walls revealed a London smothered by a blustery, late winter rainstorm. The worst of the weather was due to move out in the early evening hours at approximately the same time Ben had expected to collect Didi from the Heathrow Ibis.
A cruel twist of fate had scuppered that plan.
So much for his first real date in ages.
Ben said hello to Miss Chopra as he passed by. Without glancing up, she waved him through. The woman often forwent the niceties to cope with her daily workload.
Before entering, Ben knocked lightly on his mother’s office door. He found her perched on a corner of her massive rosewood desk. As he approached, she pointed at the 52-inch plasma TV mounted on the interior wall. It hung above a Mariner sideboard flanked by a pair of occasional chairs.
The image on its screen made Ben cringe inside and out. “You’re watching the security feed?”
“Why install all those cameras if we’re not going to use them?”
“They’re for safety, not for spying.”
“This isn’t spying. It’s assessing.” She whisked a hand in his direction. “And do be quiet. I’m trying to hear.”
Muzzling his conscience, Ben settled in next to her. His mother’s ethical boundaries grew somewhat fluid from time to time. She might have the decency not to incriminate him.
Didi was giving her presentation. With eloquence and poise, she guided Mr. Akamba through the final pages of DEI’s proposal. No trace remained of the faint accent that Ben had noticed on the plane. She was the epitome of professionalism.
She was also lovely. She had gathered her long hair into a circular bun perched against her head. A knee-length black skirt emphasized her curves. Her white blouse accentuated her tan skin.
Ben imagined showing her London. They could start at that charming rooftop bar atop the Poultry building. After drinks, including some proper champagne, they might catch a taxi to the West End. For dinner, he would take her someplace upscale but not posh, where the food was reputable and the décor understated.
To finish, he could recommend either a nightcap at a jazz club or a stroll along the Embankment. It would be cold but also captivating. London by night was its own brilliant invention.
Ben reined in his thoughts. None of that was an option. He could not take Didi to dinner.
“See how she appeals to his charitable nature?”
“Pardon?” Ben made himself concentrate on Mr. Akamba. Much less diverting, to be sure.
“Ms. Velasquez isn’t merely presenting a bid. She has sculpted her overall approach to suit Kwame’s character. She’s intelligent but also clever. Observant. Intuitive.”
Ben recalled Didi’s behavior during their overnight flight. Even though she knew nothing about him – not even his last name – she seemed to understand him.
We don’t have to talk about it. Although, it might help if you did.
I’m a fairly good judge of character.
I get it. Work comes first.
Ben sighed. “She is.”
“Are you all right?” Concern raised the pitch of his mother’s voice. “You seem distracted. Jet lag, is it? I thought you slept on the plane.”
“I did,” he insisted. “Tell me, why are we spying on Ms. Velasquez?”
His mother smiled primly. “Because we can.”
Ben watched Didi rise gracefully from her chair. Her closing remarks were rehearsed yet sincere. Mr. Akamba bobbed his head in affirmation.
“And why are we doing all this?” Ben pressed. “Look at Akamba’s face. He’s already made his decision. The last thing we need is to waste our time. Our plates are full with the gala tomorrow. And the foundation scheme. And all the work we missed whilst we were in New Orleans.”
She ignored his protests. “Are you bringing a date?”
“To the gala? Have I ever?” He shook his head. “It’s business.”
“Perhaps you might escort Ms. Velasquez.”
Surprised by the suggestion, Ben wasn’t sure how to answer. Had his mother overheard their conversation at the lift? No doubt all the common areas were wiretapped.
“Why would I do that?” he asked.
“You know what they say,” she replied. “Keep your friends close...”
“So, she’s the enemy, is she?”
“Perhaps not.” She pointed one reproachful finger at the telly. “But she is working for him.”
Ben returned his gaze to the screen. “Thomm Montgomery is a nuisance, not a rival. He’s like a child riding a tricycle in the Tour de France.”
When his mother depressed the remote’s red button, the plasma screen went black. “Let’s go make our presence known before everybody scatters.”
In the waiting lounge near the meeting rooms, they found Mr. Akamba standing alone. As his mother played the role of CEO-hostess, Ben checked the empty room. Didi and her chest-thumper of a boss couldn’t have gone far. The meeting must have only just concluded.
Muffled voices, one much louder than the other, trickled down the corridor. Through layers of glass, Ben could make out the forms of Didi and Thomm Montgomery. They faced each other in the lobby while they waited for the lift. Both of them sounded angry.
Neither noticed Ben as he approached. He halted a respectful distance from the pair, hoping to appear more polite than nosy. That was the trouble with transparent walls. They made it impossible to hide. And there wasn’t a single potted plant or rubbish bin for him to duck behind.
“What the hell, Didi?” Montgomery’s pudgy face was flushed. “Did you forget to reset your watch?”
“You put me an hour away from this place.” Didi’s arms were crossed. “I know we have to keep this cheap, but you’re telling me there’s nowhere closer to stay?”
“It’s your job to anticipate your travel times.”
“No, it’s my job to convince GhanaGold to sell DEI that mine. If your assistant would do her job –”
Monte cut her off. “I’m tired of you throwing Caitlin under the bus. You blame her for everything you do wrong.” He leaned so close to Didi that it seemed their noses might touch.
Ben grasped the balustrade to keep from bolting forward. If he ever spoke to an employee in that manner, his mother would tar and feather him. He wanted to do far worse to Thomm Montgomery.
Impressively, Didi remained calm. “I own my stuff. You know that. And I have no issue with Caitlin. But it’s not my job to prep the travel packets or find a hotel that isn’t an hour away.”
“That’s just another excuse. You’re always late. You pull a stunt like that again, and the promotion is off the table.”
“Excuse me?” Didi’s composure cracked at the edges. “That is not what we agreed.”
“We also didn’t agree for you to make us look like losers. Why did you tell Akamba that we need this deal to survive?”
Didi glared at him like it was an idiot’s question. Which it was.
“Because we do,” she told him.
“That’s a load of crap,” Monte snarled.
“We can’t change tactics now.” Unfolding her arms, she spread her hands. “I promise you, Monte, it will work. Akamba will sell DEI the mine.”
Monte raised one stubby finger as though he chastised a naughty child. “I decide what will work. This is my company. You’re my employee, and you’ll do what I say. You won’t succeed in this industry without me.” He jabbed Didi in the shoulder.
That capped it. Ben strode forward. Although he hid his irritation behind a sterile gaze, he used his height to full advantage as he towered over Monte.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Ben said. “Is there anything I can do to assist?”
Monte curbed the worst of his fury. “No, no. We’re perfectly fine.” He grasped Didi’s arm as if he meant to drag her away.
While Didi shifted to disengage Monte’s grip, Ben felt a fresh rage simmer within him.
Didi’s brown eyes were steely as they lifted to meet Ben’s. I’ve got this, her stare implied. I can deal with this man.
“I’m very glad to hear it,” Ben said.
“How lovely. You’re all still here.” His mother rounded the corner with Akamba at her side. “Kwame has invited us all to brunch tomorrow. We’ll dine upstairs in the restaurant. Shall we say eleven o’clock? This includes you as well, Ms. Velasquez.”
Politely Didi thanked her, clearly surprised to be singled out. She had recovered her poise with remarkable haste. Once again, Ben was impressed. He could easily throttle Monte on the spot even with the crowd of witnesses. He guessed no one would mind terribly, although he would hate to stain the carpet.
Rather than crow at his mother’s invitation, Monte resembled a disgruntled bulldog. “Isn’t it best for us to meet separately? We might all be in the same industry, but right now we have different objectives.”
“I like to know those with whom I do business,” Mr. Akamba explained. “Objectives are important. So are people. It will honor me if you attend.”
His mother made a show of checking her watch. “I’m meeting a few colleagues for drinks in my private salon. Would you care to join us, Thomm? This is in the penthouse, not the restaurant.”
As she rattled off a shortlist of high-profile names, Montgomery all but salivated. His mother’s invitation placed the man squarely among Britain’s corporate elite where he could bluster and boast to his heart’s content.
“Love to!” he barked.
Ben fought the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly, the man was shameless. Why on earth would his mother deign to allow him into her inner sanctum?
Monte slapped Akamba on the back. “Are you coming, Kwame?”
“I am going to my room to rest.” Akamba pressed the lift’s UP button.
His mother wasn’t done yet. “Perhaps you could start things without me, Thomm? I’ll be along in just a moment.”
Ben suppressed a smile. And there it was. She wanted a private word with Didi.
But why?
When the two men had departed, his mother inspected Didi like she intended to find a flaw. “Ms. Velasquez, you look exhausted.”
Didi held steady beneath the scrutiny. “I am.”
“I hope you don’t mind, but I had your belongings transferred to a suite in the tower.”
Ben’s eyes skimmed the ceiling. Had she really?
Didi squinted. “I don’t understand.”
“Several of my most trusted associates repacked your things and brought them over.”
“Hold on.” Didi raised her hands with her palms facing out. “You’re telling me that strangers went through my stuff? And you didn’t ask me first?”
“What would you have said other than yes?”
“That’s not the point –”
“My invitation to stay at the tower included you as well as Thomm. He declined politely on your behalf. And only yours,” his mother added.
Didi’s manner took on a lethal sharpness. “Monte did what?”
“Benedick will escort you to your suite.”
Ben lobbed a contrary glare at his mother. He wanted nothing to do with her mad plots. It was futile to protest, however. Long ago, he learned to pick his battles.
His mother extended a silver key card to Didi. “Fortieth floor. The Diamond Suite.”
A tiny grunt of surprise escaped Ben’s lips before he could stop it. The Diamond Suite was intended for OPEC princes and foreign dignitaries. The last person who slept there was Bill Gates.
His mother hammered on with her instructions. “After you’ve shown Ms. Velasquez to her suite, Benedick, please join us in the salon. You are also welcome, Ms. Velasquez.”
“Thank you for the invitation.” Didi’s tone made it clear she would not be attending.
Ben couldn’t fault her in the slightest. His mother breached personal boundaries like most people crossed the road. Too often, winning trumped civility.
And Lydia Richmond did not lose.
But what prize was his mother trying to win this time? A gold mine in Ghana was low-hanging fruit. Did she intend for this deal to be the final nail in DEI’s coffin? She was presumptive, but she wasn’t so petty.
She did loathe Thomm Montgomery.
And now, officially, so did Ben. The man’s behavior toward Didi was harassment, plain and simple.
But if DEI fell prey to mismanagement, then Didi was out of a job. Had his mother considered the collateral damage of putting Monte out of business?
Likely not.
As his mother marched away without another word, Ben touched the UP button. He was happy to escort Didi to her suite. He was less pleased with having drinks afterward. Perhaps he could make a brief appearance and slip out. Play the jet lag card if he had to.
With a ding, the lift’s doors divided. Ben stepped aside to let Didi enter first, then pressed the button for the fortieth floor.
“I can’t believe your mom moved my stuff without asking.” Didi’s voice was ragged with fatigue.
“I can’t believe Monte put you in that hotel,” he countered. “Not when you might have stayed here.”
She wilted against the elevator’s glass wall. “Yeah. He can be a grosero.”
Ben mashed his lips to keep from agreeing. “But you don’t mind working for him?”
“Right now, I don’t have a choice.” Her lopsided smirk made its first reappearance since they parted ways at Heathrow. “So, your real name is Benedick?”
Ben offered his customary reply. “My mother is skilled at many things. Naming her sons isn’t one of them.”
“Your dad didn’t get a vote?”
“He had a veto for each of us. He used it both times.”
“What’s worse than Benedick?” Didi apologized before Ben could react. “That was rude. I’m really tired.”
“Jet lag,” he said. “The trick is to stay awake for as long as you can.”
“I give it about ten more minutes.” She peered down into the atrium. “Do you live here?”
“We have a house in Surrey, but we spend more time at the tower.”
“And you have your own restaurant?” Her words were mildly derisive.
“It’s not ours,” he corrected. “Not precisely. We let the space.”
Didi stared like she expected him to say more. “You let it what?”
“No, erm...” Ben made a mental note to search for a translator app on his phone. “That means we rent it. Our associates use it during the day, and we find it convenient for hosting events like the gala.”
