House of Cards (Tech Billionaires)

by Ainsley St Claire

  It’s late morning, and I haven’t even gotten dressed. I love that I can work from home.

  Or not-work from home. I pause to daydream a little. It’s been several weeks since I argued with Jonnie at the spa. He didn’t respond when I texted to apologize, so I’ve left him alone. I’m sure this is for the best, though I still think of him every day.

  But I shouldn’t. I lay back in bed, set aside my spreadsheets, and leaf through a magazine. It is Saturday, after all.

  A few minutes later, a knock at my bedroom door distracts me from the article in Cosmo on “How to Make Your Orgasms Last.” Just as well, as it seems a bit cliché, and thanks to my current life predicament, I won’t be having orgasms any time soon.

  Opening the door, I find my mother’s private secretary standing with an acrylic clipboard, wearing her usual sensible skirt and shoes.

  “There’s a Mr. Patrick Moreau here to see you,” she announces.

  “Me? Why is my mother’s attorney here to see me?”

  She looks at me blankly. Her job is not to wonder, but to do, and do it efficiently. She waits for me to agree to meet him.

  “Have him meet me in the library.”

  She gives a curt nod, turns, and leaves.

  So much for a day in my flannel pajamas. I could meet him like this, but that’s probably not the image of myself I want to project. I pick up the crumpled jeans I wore yesterday from the floor and pull them on, making sure the underwear isn’t going to creep out the leg later today. I grab an Irish wool sweater to complete the outfit. My mother would turn up her nose, but I won’t be caught dead in one of her St. John knit suits. He arrived unannounced. What does she expect?

  As I walk downstairs, I consider what might bring him to speak to me. Maybe my mother has melted the ice in Lake Louise and drowned? Not likely.

  When I enter the room, his back is to me, but I can see he’s drinking coffee and studying the shelf of first editions my father collected. I’ve always thought he was a little smarmy. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tucked a book into his briefcase before I arrived. I’ll have Richard check the inventory after he leaves.

  I take a big breath and paint a smile on my face. Extending my hand, I say “Welcome Mr. Moreau. What brings you to Reinhardt House?”

  He’s a slight man, barely equal to me in height. Rather than clasp my hand, he does what he always does and shakes my fingers. His father was my grandfather’s attorney, so we inherited him, though I’m not sure why we kept him.

  “Thank you, Miss Reinhardt.” He opens his briefcase, which is sitting on the side table, and extracts several packets of papers. “Your mother thought you might want to go through the papers she gave you recently.”

  My smile is tight. I may not have gone to law school, but I’ve been reading contracts since I could read. I know what they say and why I’m screwed.

  “I’ve been through them.”

  “Do you understand your father’s will?”

  “You explained his will to us when you read it after he passed.”

  “You understand that with Christopher not interested or able to assume responsibility of Reinhardt Corporation, and Steven unable to meet the requirements at this point to assume leadership, the company falls to you.”

  “That’s what you explained and what I read.”

  “Did you read that you can only inherit the management of the company if you’re married? Your grandfather was a man of a different generation,” he explains.

  I’m seething. “I did notice that.” Does he think I’m marrying Alex because I want to?

  “And you read the documents in which you authorized Herbert Walker of Elite Electronics to extract over a million dollars from the Reinhardt Foundation for his personal use? This action was against the rules of the Foundation and a violation of the law. You’ve embezzled from the Foundation.”

  Ah yes, here we go. “I did no such thing, as you know. And that isn’t my signature.” I will myself to keep my cool. My mother is trying to pull a fast one here, but I’m not going to let her get away with this. Smarmy or not, Moreau is an officer of the court, and he needs to abide by the law.

  “But it is your signature,” he counters. “I witnessed you signing that document. I told you at the time that if anyone found out, you’d be fully prosecuted by the Reinhardt Corporation and find yourself in jail.” He clasps his hands in front of himself and looks me up and down like a piece of meat. “You told me no one would ever know.”

  That’s complete bullshit. I walk toward him until I stand less than a foot away. In the sweetest voice I can muster, I ask, “What does my mother have on you to make you lie for her?”

  “I was there. There’s nothing to hold over my head. I assure you that would be against the law.”

  “You know as well as I do that I didn’t sign this.” I can’t lose it here. That’s how she’ll win.

  He shifts gears. “Did you read the paperwork Alex signed?”

  I nod.

  “Those documents indicate that he’s stolen over a million dollars from his own family.”

  I shake my head. He’s among the Walkers’ fleet of attorneys too. “You control his accounts; Alex couldn’t have done that without you.”

  Moreau rocks back on his heels. “He tricked me. His mother contacted me, or so I thought, and authorized the disbursements. But actually, it might have been you who called. We can’t be sure, but she’s made it clear it wasn’t her.”

  After a moment, he hands me an additional stack of papers. “These will be filed by my office with the Hennepin County DA. They outline your misappropriations and malfeasance with the corporation and Alexander’s embezzlement. It will no doubt result in warrants for your arrest.”

  He pauses, seemingly for dramatic effect. “Of course, these will never see the light of day if you go through with your wedding to Alexander and remain married to him. Any divorce will also set these documents into motion.”

  There it is. Blackmail, plain and simple—well, not too simple. What on earth is going on here? This is not just about the company. It can’t be. My mother has lost her mind. It’s finally clear that I can’t just go along with this. Otherwise the whole rest of my life will unfold this way—something new and horrible waiting for me around every turn, anytime my ideas and my mother’s don’t exactly match up.

  I need to talk to a professional of my own, but anyone here in Minneapolis will likely report that to Mr. Moreau. I need to figure this out.

  “I appreciate you stopping by,” I say absently, still evaluating how I’m going to move forward.

  “I just wanted to make sure you understood the gravity of your situation.”

  He’s not yet closing up his briefcase, and suddenly he licks his lips.

  I want to vomit. “Thank you,” I manage. “Anything else?”

  He steps forward and stares me down. I flinch as he moves the hair away from my face, and I try to step back but find the wall behind me.

  “I look forward to servicing you the way I do your mother.” The innuendo drips from his mouth, and goosebumps cover my arms.

  I’m flooded by the desire to knee him in the balls.

  “You can leave now,” I seethe.

  He closes up his briefcase and puts his coat on, watching me.

  Mr. Moreau is clearly knee deep in this mess, and once I can prove that, I will happily have his law license revoked.

  He finally goes, but I remain in the library, pacing back and forth. I’m not sure what to do. I didn’t sign the documents attributed to me, but I can’t be certain Alex didn’t sign his papers.

  I’ve made it clear I don’t want to marry Alex, but I’m still here, aren’t I? My mother has to be reasonably certain I’m going to tow the line like always. Why the strong-arm tactics?

  Fortunately I have a trip to San Francisco for the Foundation on Monday, because I need to talk to Christopher. He knows what kind of crap happens in our family. If anyone can help me sort this out, it’s him. I
f I have to get married to preserve the future of the company, I’m for damn sure going to do it with eyes open. No shady business, no blackmail, and no surprises about what lies ahead.

  I read through the documents again, and Moreau has included a profit and loss statement for the company as proof of my crime. I look through every line item, as my father always taught me to do. Then I spot something.

  My heart beats a bit faster. The gray clouds separate ever so slightly.

  Finally, a bit of leverage for me.

  I hear my mother at the front door and go to greet her. “Hello, Mother.”

  “Hello, my darling.”

  She’s looking way too smug.

  “Your sleazy lawyer came by to see me.”

  She gives me a plastic smile. “I thought it best that he go through all the paperwork with you, so you knew what you were up against.”

  “I’m perfectly capable of reading. I’m curious as to your deal with Herbert Walker.”

  “He’s been a long-time friend and ally to your father and me.”

  “He was Father’s best friend. Did you fuck him to get back at Father for having an affair with Nancy and fathering her child?”

  It occurs to me that if Murphy hadn’t died in a car accident a few years ago, he could’ve been the heir to run the business. He’s also the one thing my mother really resented. She never cared that my father had affairs, but the fact that his relationship with his secretary resulted in a child? That put it all right out in the open. And then Father left Nancy a quarter of his estate, so clearly he loved her. And that’s not what his arrangement with my mother was supposed to be.

  “Your father’s relationship is none of your business.” She bristles.

  “Well… Patrick offered to service me the same way he does you,” I tell her. “Do you fuck him? I wonder what Herbert would think if he knew you were screwing him, too?”

  Her hand trembles, which I know is a sign she’s nervous. It’s her tell, as Jonnie would say.

  “You know I have great respect for the company and everything Father and Grandfather built,” I tell her, moving closer. “You’ve played on my love, knowing I’m loyal and not usually one to fight you. But you went too far when you pushed me to marry Alex in some big society wedding. You don’t get to parade around like this is the fabulous event of the century. This is a business arrangement. Alex and I will marry at the Hennepin County Courthouse to meet the requirements of the will, and you’ll vacate this house immediately afterward.”

  She shakes her head and points a finger at me. “You will have the wedding I’m planning.”

  I smile because I know I have her. “No, I won’t. While I may be willing to do almost anything to sustain our family business and the Foundation it supports, you depend on the company. Your stipend comes from the corporation. You have no money of your own because Grandfather’s will set it up to go to Father, the direct heir, and he kept the same structure in his will. I don’t know how I missed this at the reading, but no part of it provides for you. And there are no requirements for a fancy wedding.”

  Her face morphs from pained to horrified and angry. I’ve figured her out. My mother never saw me as smart like Christopher. He went to medical school, but I went to business school, and I’m successfully running the Foundation. I’ve prepared for being on the board of my family company my entire life. My ridiculous mother aside, I do believe in what my family has spent generations creating.

  I take a deep breath. “If you force me into a big wedding, I promise you’ll never see another penny from the Reinhardt Corporation.”

  Mic drop.

  “Don’t you dare threaten me,” she growls.

  “What are you going to do, Mother? Dissolve the company and lose everything? Thanks to that enlightening session with your attorney, I just realized all the money you support yourself with goes away if the company goes away. The will is clear that you didn’t inherit anything. So, as I said, Alex and I will marry at the Hennepin County Courthouse when we’re ready. I’ll let you know the date. You will move out and go to Florida or wherever you want to go. And just remember, if you bother me, I’ll make sure you don’t get another penny.”

  I leave her standing in the foyer. I walk upstairs and feel better than I have in months. This is still a tremendous mess, but I have a little bit of autonomy. Mother inadvertently gave me all the aces in her house of cards.

  I text Alex.

  Me: I just learned something very interesting, and I need a high five because I actually won an argument with my mother.

  Alex: What happened?

  Me: I‘ll explain in person sometime. We’ll talk soon.

  Chapter 16

  Maggie

  “Kate, this is brilliant.”

  My week is off to a great start. I’m sitting across a San Francisco café table from Kate Monroe, the director of Brighter Future, the nonprofit out of San Francisco the Reinhardt Foundation is working with to roll out their Operation Happy Holiday program on a larger scale. She’s just presented her latest batch of ideas about potential targets around the country.

  Brighter Future’s goal is to make sure disadvantaged kids stay in school and go on to get jobs or go to college. They worked with one of our San Francisco Bullseye locations this past Christmas to reward students attending school and doing well with a shopping spree. That reaches right to the heart of what I want to do with the Foundation and giving back to our communities.

  “Thank you. It’s been wonderful to have access to your resources at Bullseye,” Kate gushes.

  “I trust you’re using the computers we had delivered. Are they making a difference?”

  She nods. “Without a doubt. It used to take twenty minutes for the old ones to boot up, and they crashed all the time. Your gift has literally added hours back into our days.”

  The investment in ten computers, monitors, and software was minor for us, yet so valuable to them. I love the way small things can make a big difference.

  “I’m so glad,” I tell her. “Last time I spoke with the Bullseye liaison, Jennifer Chase, she said you were considering some adjustments to your program going forward?”

  “Yes, she was concerned some school districts wouldn’t want to buy the kids’ attendance.”

  I roll my eyes. “The research backs up what you’re doing. I don’t think you need to change a thing. Maybe we just need to adjust your message.”

  Kate grins and nods her head. “I could kiss you right now. That’s what I tried to explain to Jennifer, but I wasn’t as articulate. You know, if the whole chairwoman of the board and head of your family foundation thing doesn’t work out, let me know. We would make a spot for you at Brighter Future.”

  I laugh. I can see why kids are drawn to her. If only she knew how appealing her offer was.

  “You never know,” I say with a smile. “I might just take you up on that.”

  “I should warn you, the pay works out to be less than minimum wage, but when you see those smiles on Christmas Eve, it’s totally worth it.”

  We spend another hour talking. She’s getting married in a few months to a man she met when he volunteered for her.

  “One of our board members gave me his name when we were short volunteers to participate in the Christmas-shopping part of the program, and he was kind enough to show up with forty people—mostly his employees. He owns a security company, so I called him when all the gifts went missing, and he worked until he found them. Somewhere in there, we fell in love.”

  “What a great story,” I marvel.

  “How did you and your fiancé meet?” she asks.

  “I think we fought over the tiger costume in the dress-up box when we were in kindergarten.”

  Kate’s eyes grow wide. “No way! That’s really cool. Have you been together since you were five?”

  “Goodness no. Our families are good friends, and he was my best friend all through school, so… ah, we decided to make it official.”

  “So ro
mantic.”

  I wish it were. I envy her excitement about getting married. I’m busy plotting how to get out of my impending wedding. If only I could get out of the marriage too.

  We talk a bit longer before she needs to get back to work.

  She waves as she shows me to the door. “See you next month.”

  I have some time before I agreed to meet Christopher in a little over an hour. I’m actually going to see his office on this visit. But for now, it’s nice to sit back, have a moment to myself, and take in the atmosphere of San Francisco. I order a third cappuccino and watch the busy sidewalk. Minneapolis is busy, but it’s cold. We use tunnels to ferret our way through the city. Here people wrap up and walk, run, ride bikes, rollerblade, scooter, and probably cartwheel down the sidewalks.

  A guy walks by with similar hair color and build as Jonnie, and when I get a whiff of his cologne, for a half-second I think it might be him. My mind is truly at war with itself. I wonder what Jonnie’s doing right now. I pull out my cell phone to stare at the pictures I have stored of him. I can’t bring myself to erase them. I think of him entirely too often. I will probably always wonder what would have become of us if the family business hadn’t gotten in the way. Before I can open the pictures, I see I missed a text.

  Christopher: Where are you? Your luggage was dropped at the house over an hour ago.

  He sent the text a few minutes after my meeting with Kate began. I need to psych myself up for our visit. I adore my brother, but I’m in knots at the thought of explaining all this to him, and ultimately I’m not sure how much help he can be. When he emancipated himself, Christopher encouraged Stevie and me to do the same. And he’s been opposed to my marriage to Alex from the moment it was presented. I know he doesn’t feel the same way about family loyalty as I do, and I’m prepared for an “I told you so” or two, but hopefully he’ll at least have a lawyer I can contact.