Noah stopped and turned around.
“This time only. But remember this. Pittman Saunders owns you, and I own Pittman Saunders. Forget this, and there will not be a next time. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Olivia twisted her face and stared curiously at the straight-faced Noah. Dad would never put up with this normally. What’s with this guy?
Chapter 13
The thing about being a new lawyer in a big firm was that, even if you were the boss’s daughter, chances were you wouldn’t get a corner office. There was also a good chance you wouldn’t have a private office, either. And, if two lawyers happened to be assigned to the same file, there was a reasonable chance that you would have to share a space with your partner, especially when the firm was experiencing what the senior partner called “unprecedented growth.”
So when Noah and Olivia were required to share a small office designed for one person, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. However, close quarters did not necessarily make for a close relationship.
“You certainly know how to make a good impression,” remarked Olivia, avoiding Noah’s gaze as she began tackling the six-inch Golden Asia file.
Noah took a deep breath as he turned to study the first sheets of the thick file. “Well, you never told me that Garret Southam was your father. I thought you said your last name was Novak.”
“It is.”
“Your mother remarried Garret, so he’s your stepfather, then?”
“Why are you so nosy? How about some privacy?”
“I told you everything about me,” Noah said.
“Oh, right.” Olivia gently put the legal document down and glowered at Noah. “You bragged about being a lawyer trying to impress the little secretary. You tried to show off by telling me you were a chop-socky kung fu man.”
Scrunching his face, Noah lifted his arms in surrender. “Guilty as charged. I still don’t know much about you.”
“I went to a Swiss boarding school, Brown University, did an MBA at the Wharton School of Business and graduated cum laude from Harvard Law School. Enough?”
Noah gulped, then regained his composure. “I was thinking of something more... personal. You’re not applying for a job with me, so I really couldn’t care less about your resumé. Like who are you really, and why do you do what you do? And why did you lie to me about your last name?”
Olivia couldn’t believe this guy just didn’t give up. “I’m Olivia Novak Southam, age twenty-six. I was born in Hong Kong, and I have an IQ of 140, which means I’m probably ten times as smart as you. What I love to do more than anything else is to play jazz piano. I finished law school two years early and spent the last year in New York City playing the jazz circuit. I would have continued to do so except that I’m addicted to eating regularly, a habit most jazzers are unable to indulge in.”
Olivia balled her fists tightly. She wasn’t much of one to let out personal feelings. “Enough of that. I won’t bore either of us anymore. I’m working with you because, for some reason known only to him, Dad put us together. I will make it as short as possible so that you will not have to put up with this spoiled rich bitch because I, for one, am not going to get stuck doing real estate conveyances that any storefront lawyer could do.”
Olivia’s eyes dared Noah to snap back. He didn’t take the bait and threw her a curve instead. “I’m sorry to hear that...”
“I don’t want sympathy.”
“I didn’t finish. I want to say I’m sorry to hear you have father issues...”
Olivia shrieked. “I don’t have father issues!”
She was loud enough that coworkers across the hall turned to their computers and pretended nothing happened. She turned her attention back to the document in the Golden Asia stack, pretending she was concentrating on it.
Noah said quietly, “Just because you are angry with your father, don’t take it out on the world... or on me.”
Fury roiling her body, Olivia didn’t say a word, and her expression indicated she didn’t hear a thing. She got up and huffed out of the room.
Noah wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw a tear rolling down her face. He folded his hands thoughtfully for a moment. If he was right, that meant she had a heart, as well as being knock-your-socks-off gorgeous.
Chapter 14
Ron Armstrong and half a dozen other accountants dressed in the obligatory conservative dark suits sat nervously around a table at Armstrong and Company’s boardroom, pastries and coffee untouched. All eyes were on Garret as he perused Ron’s revised documents, quickly scanning a page then moving to the following one.
The lawyer slammed the binder down. “This is bullshit.”
“We haven’t finished yet, Garret, because it’s not just unethical; it’s illegal on a mammoth scale,” stated Ron.
“Since when has that bothered you?” asked Garret.
“Since we started to get investigated for accounting irregularities by some random government auditor two weeks ago. It’s impossible to keep track of every single change because you make an alteration on one file, and it affects another, then another. It’s a snowball effect.”
“Is that worth losing $10,000,000 in annual billings?” asked Garret simply. “It’s more than just Christmas bonus money we’re talking about. Last time I checked, ten million was one hell of a lot of change.”
“But we could lose our designations,” argued Ron. “The board already has us under watch, too.”
“So what, Ron? Are you scared of a few bureaucrats, because I’m certainly not,” said Garret.
“The problem, Garret, is if we lose our designations, they are going to want to review all of Golden Asia’s back records and statements. Then forget me. Pittman Saunders will be up a creek. We are talking about billions here, Garret.”
“Madoff and the Enron guys did it.”
“And they’re in jail now because they got caught.”
Garret walked over to one of the other accountants and, with one hand, picked him up by the throat.
“Then don’t get caught,” said Garret.
They all looked on in horror as Garret began to squeeze. The accountant struggled; waving his arms in the air, but he couldn’t free himself from the lawyer’s grip. He started gagging, and his arms started waving more frantically. Just before he lost consciousness, Garret released him, dropping him to the floor.
“Don’t worry. You’ll live,” Garret told him. He glanced back at Ron. “But I can’t guarantee the same result if my request is not honored. Do I make myself clear?”
“Of course, Garret,” stammered Ron, resisting the urge to upchuck. “I think we all know what needs to be done.”
“Good, because this meeting has just wasted half an hour of my time. You’ve only got another two hours to make the appropriate adjustments.” Garret’s frosty eyes lasered upon Ron. “I went early to your home to give you more time. By wasting it, you’re just screwing yourself in the derrière.”
The lawyer exited the room, and the accountants started buzzing with activity. Had they known what Garret knew, instead of spending time on accounting details, they would have been making travel arrangements to anywhere else in the world under names that were anything but their own.
Garret was the unknown source for the government auditor. He, more than anyone else, understood what the potential outcomes could be.
Chapter 15
The almost-a-Luddite Noah sat alone in the office at his computer. Using the two-finger hunt-and-peck method, he read aloud as he typed in the letters.
“Dear Olivia: I want you to know that I behaved improperly today during our encounter, and I am genuinely sorry for any consternation I have caused you. Sincerely, Noah Reid.” He hit the send button.
Less than ten seconds passed before Olivia stormed back into the room. She held her iPhone up and waved it in the air.
“What’s this patronizing piece of crap?”
“I was being honest,” said Noah, trying to defend himself.
&nb
sp; “Honest is not the word I would have used. Pretentious, prevaricating, prickly, predatory...”
Noah interrupted, “How about precious? Or profound? I was trying to ’pologize.’ Well, if that’s how you feel, I take that back. I rescind my apology. Happy?”
Olivia glowered. “If you were really interested in me, you would put up with whatever I said or did.”
“Who said I was interested in you?”
“Well, if you’re not, why are you wasting my time?” She tramped out.
Noah leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows up and down. “I think she likes me.”
Olivia popped her head back in. “Dream on, Reid.”
Chapter 16
Garret could easily afford a chauffeur, but one pleasure of his life was driving his Bentley Continental Flying Spur. The power, the smoothness, the sheer hand-crafted luxury was an escape from the tensions of running a mega law firm. Unless, that is, Olivia was riding with him and he wanted to have a meaningful conversation.
“What is your opinion of Mr. Reid?”
Olivia shrugged and looked the other direction. “Noah? He’s okay.”
Garret bit his lip. “How many times do I have to tell you that okay is not an acceptable response? It’s a...”
“...shortcut for people who want easy answers without thinking.”
“At least your memory is intact.”
“Father...” Olivia only said “father” when she was angry at Garret. “Father, stop trying to set me up.”
“I am not trying to set you up. I hired Noah because he was at the top of his class, he knows the Chinese language and culture and he has a black belt in Hung Gar.”
“Which makes him a clone of you. That’s even worse. He is definitely not my type. Definitely.”
“He will be an asset to the firm and, believe it or not, setting him up with you was not even a remote consideration.”
“Stop lying. I am perfectly capable of finding men without you.”
Garret snorted. “Right, I forgot about your track record. Perhaps you prefer the artist I invested fifteen thousand in that dumped you the moment the check cleared? Or how about the waiter who left you for a woman thirty-seven years older than him because she was “more of a woman?” And let’s not forget the fiancé you found in bed with another man? All of them fine upstanding candidates as Mr. Olivia Southam.”
The problem with the truth was that the truth didn’t lie...
“I wasn’t serious about any of them.”
“Your mother...”
“Don’t bring Mom into this,” she said in a voice tight with anger.
Garret ignored her. “Your mother entrusted me to take care of you. Whether you accept that or not, that is the main responsibility of my life. Cash is king and, if something happens to me, I have ensured that you will have a great deal of that.”
Olivia spat out, “I’d rather be happy in my own skin.”
There’s no point. Garret wasn’t angry at Olivia, only exasperated as they continued in silence to Macau’s enormous seven-million-square-foot Tiger Palace.
Garret drove past the thousand-vehicle parking lot to the front of the building. When you said “Tiger” in this former Portuguese colony, it was automatically understood that you were not talking about one building but an entire hotel, restaurant, residential, shopping and entertainment complex. And, in a land where extravagance was the norm, Tiger definitely impressed. No expense was spared to make the shining jewel in Macau’s gambling tiara the most impressive and ostentatious display of human opulence ever exhibited.
Miles, one of the valets, whisked to the car. “Good to see you, Mr. Southam.”
“Likewise, Miles.”
“Shall I detail it while you’re here? No charge.”
No charge. That was laughable because Garret’s tip would be more than a week’s salary. The same little ritual was played every time Garret came and with every valet that parked Garret’s car. No one else drove a Bentley.
“Naturally.”
Chapter 17
To Garret, who helped put together the deals to get the Tiger Palace made, the complex didn’t seem that big a deal. That’s because he knew where the skeletons were buried, the money spent on bribes, kickbacks, entertainment and women... and a few discreet kills to objecting officials.
But to Olivia, who rarely made an appearance in Asia, it was simply spectacular.
She gaped at the casino’s towering archway entrance, where statues of eight imposing Chinese imperial lions and eight ferocious dragons greeted incoming patrons. Throughout the complex, she saw that the number eight was a common theme. It made sense to her. In the Chinese language, the number eight, baht, rhymed with the Chinese word for prosperity, faht, making it a most coveted number.
Eight terra cotta warrior statues saluted Garret and Olivia as they entered through the lobby doors and, inside, a dazzling collection of Chinese artifacts greeted them. The artiste in Olivia appreciated the giant, laughing Buddhas made of bronze and porcelain, the ornate vases ten feet tall, and the huge stone carvings of Ming Dynasty emperors. As well as the memorabilia, she gawked at the sprawling enclosed living ecosystem where animals native to China resided, including monkeys, salamanders, badgers and a flock of cranes.
The pièce de resistance, however, was not of Chinese origin at all. It was a caged habitat where eight Bengal tigers roamed freely. Olivia and other visitors of all nationalities and ages oohed and ahed at the fierce energy of the majestic beasts.
“Isn’t that dangerous?” said Olivia, her voice tinged with tension and awe.
Garret whispered in her ear. “They’re not as dangerous as they look. The animals are injected daily with amphetamines and fed Chinese herbs to boost their energy levels, making them growl and pace ferociously almost constantly.”
“Really?” She bit her tongue to prevent the animal activist in her from lashing out.
Garret nodded. “Things aren’t always as they seem. A little hocus pocus to make the customers happy. It’s the name of the game.”
“I see.” Olivia knew there was no battle to be won here today. She followed her father through the lobby to the three-thousand-seat restaurant, the Royal Tiger. Six hundred and forty-seven attendants, chefs, waiters and other service personnel pampered thousands of daily patrons with the freshest seafood Hong Kong had to offer. Storage tanks by the kitchen displayed live carp, crab, turtle, frogs and shrimp swimming, blissfully unaware that they would soon be featured on a casino patron’s plate.
Garret and Olivia stood at the entrance. Olivia was dazzled by the entertainment spectacle, “The Artistry of China.” Chinese acrobats and entertainers dressed in classical costumes performed acts of astounding agility that combined athletics, magic, dance and grace. One group performed double and triple somersaults through space, landing precariously on partners’ shoulders.
A multi-colored lion train a hundred feet long snaked its way through the tables, weaving in and out through the other performers. Olivia was thrilled as a set of athletes flew through the air with rhythmic handsprings perfectly coordinated and synchronized but in opposing directions. A daring tightrope artist walked not on the stage, but on the thinnest of ropes hanging directly over the audience.
“Do you approve?” asked Garret, amused at Olivia’s wide-eyed wonder.
Olivia nodded vigorously. She had always appreciated exceptional performance of any kind. Her eyes went to the stage, where twenty performers leapt and jumped with breathtaking vitality. They performed cartwheels in tandem with other performers, not on the floor but on the hands and feet of acrobats, some who stood on the floor and others who lay on the ground with their feet in the air. Others juggled glass bowls like meteors in the sky. One special woman rode a unicycle. With one leg on a pedal, she used the other leg to lob a dozen dishes onto the top of her head. Pole climbers scurried like squirrels up thin pieces of bamboo and vaulted themselves to other poles, performing somersaults in the air during
their brief flights. It was a symphony of strength, artistry, elegance and beauty.
While she loved what she saw, Olivia wrung her hands in frustration as she watched the thousands of patrons ignoring the visual extravaganza, preferring to stuff their faces and gambling as if tomorrow didn’t exist. “Doesn’t everybody see what they are missing? This is amazing. You can’t get this anywhere else.”
Garret shrugged. “It’s part of the furniture, part of the cost of doing business. Tommy went all around China recruiting these performers. If someone takes ten seconds to look at them before going back to the bar or slots or card game, it’s worth it. That ten seconds separates us from anywhere else a customer may want to spend his money. It makes him or her feel special.”
Olivia opened her mouth to rebut but Wing, a tuxedoed waiter, arrived. Wing had been assigned to Garret for a long time and knew his habits and preferences well. “Hello, Mr. Southam. I will be taking complete care of you tonight along with...” Wing waited for Garret to make an introduction.
“This is my daughter Olivia, Wing.”
“Good evening, Ms. Olivia. Your room is ready.”
“Is Tommy here yet?”
“He’s here somewhere. Always is, Mr. Southam. I’ll let him know you are here.”
Chapter 18
In an empty, darkened stairwell, Duke and Pau, dressed in tight-fitting black clothing, black gloves and black balaclavas that covered their faces, carried black custom-made cases two feet long, sixteen inches high and five inches deep. Their ebony, rubber-soled martial arts shoes guaranteed maximum traction on any surface, as well as minimal noise.
They climbed stealthily, ominously, until they reached the top of the stairs to arrive at a locked door. Pau moved to open the door, but Duke grabbed his hand and shook his head emphatically, “Not yet! We get ready first.”
The Noah Reid Action Thriller Series: Books 1-3 (plus special bonuses) Page 12
