by R. R. Banks
Growing up in Miami, Florida, Dillon learned to tolerate the sun while detesting what it did to his fair skin. His family worked in the import business, using all the various ports in Florida to their advantage. During his early years, he spent months working with his father, learning about investing and business. After a few stellar years in Vanderbilt, he quickly became the man “in the know” as he made a reputation of his business intelligence.
“Speaking of oil and energy, how goes your foray into the Australian company?” asked Robert, prying for information.
Dillon shook his head. “Not well,” he replied reluctantly. “After the whole embezzlement thing, the company was turned over to the majority stockholder.”
Robert reached down and grabbed his coffee cup, bringing it up to his lips and sipping on it again. “I knew it was experiencing some hardships.
“It all started with bad leadership prior to Nathanial Jenkins taking over as a majority leader,” began Dillon, looking a bit perturbed as he took his eyes off the ladies huddled in front of the café, noticing how several men showed up to escort them in. “Even though I only own a single percent of the company, it cost me a great deal and now it’s appearing as if I’m going to lose everything I had in that investment.”
Robert smiled. “The man has a lot of charisma and is very good at building relationships and talking to people,” explained Robert, defending Nathanial Jenkins slightly. “Unfortunately, that can only get you so far.” He paused briefly while Dillon started looking out in the other direction, noticing several seagulls landing near the café to search for scraps. “Dillon, what if I told you I could save your investment?”
Dillon smirked as he took his attention away from the seagulls and turned to face Robert. “I knew you had to be going toward something with this,” he stated plainly. “What are you selling?”
“Dillon, I’m sure you’re aware that I bought into the New Zealand Oil Company and with the failings of the Australian company, I’m going to attempt to push my way into their distribution network,” he explained. “Hear me out before you tell me no.
“I don’t know if the Consortium of Oil Traders would allow that to happen,” said Dillon. “The moment that it appeared that you were making a play for power, they would do whatever they had to, to stabilize it for their own personal gain.”
“We can do this without them.”
“No, you can’t,” stated Dillon plainly. “COT is the most powerful entity in the world when it comes to oil.”
Robert paused briefly as he looked on with frustration. “So, you don’t think they’re beatable?”
“I know they’re not beatable,” replied Dillon without hesitation. “They are the biggest player in this game and they will bully anyone who attempts to muscle them out of an incredibly lucrative area.” Dillon looked at Robert as he could see the frustration building on his face. “But what if you joined them?”
“Join them?” asked Robert with a confused and perplexed look. “I’ve never joined any kind of network like theirs, nor have I ever needed to.”
“You’ve never been in oil,” replied Dillon. “I’m not trying to make things difficult, I’m trying to help you understand.”
Robert appeared frustrated, heading into the conversation thinking he could persuade Dillon to join his cause. “So, you’re saying you won’t help me?”
“I’m not saying that,” replied Dillon defensively. “What I am saying is that you’re going about this the wrong way.”
“Excuse me?” asked Robert.
“Think about everything you told me that your company in New Zealand has done over the past couple of months.” declared Dillon. “They would be fortunate to have an owner like you in their organization.” Dillon paused for a moment while he watched Robert comprehend everything he told him. “Robert, I will make you a deal right now. I will purchase a five percent ownership stake.”
Robert’s eyes lit up as he looked at Dillon. “Five percent?”
“Five percent, but that’s only if you can convince the Executive Committee of COT to allow your company in.”
Robert looked at Dillon with a calm and reserved expression, doing his best to subdue his potential excitement. The deal was not complete nor was it close to finished, but he felt that this was a step in the right direction. “I’m still not sold on the idea of joining this incredibly large organization,” explained Robert slowly. “However, if you honestly feel that this is the way to go and the best way for this company to be successful, I will try to schedule a meeting in the coming days with them.”
“Really, you only need to impress one person right now,” said Dillon reluctantly. “You have to impress Sulagna Patel.” He pulled out his cell phone and started looking up various bits of data, researching quickly while Robert looked out at the ocean. “Robert, do not be surprised if she knows a lot about you. She is incredibly smart, astute, and knowledgeable when it comes to the dealings of her industry.”
“I’ve never failed at a negotiation,” replied Robert quickly as he watched Dillon tinker with his phone. “Dillon, I always win when I have to.”
Dillon smiled, still keeping his face affixed to his phone. “I know you do, but this is a bit different.”
“Are you telling me they’ll muscle me out of business?”
“Of course not,” replied Dillon. “But they will deny you entry and beef up the supply in that region to overtake your supply lines if you upset them.”
Robert smirked as Dillon placed his phone on the table. “You’re in luck,” announced Dillon. “Sulagna Patel and her daughter, Mina, will be in Monaco tomorrow at the Stade Louis II to watch AS Monaco host Paris Saint-Germain in an incredibly important soccer match.”
“You mean football,” corrected Robert. “Just because your homeland likes to be different doesn’t mean that the rest of the world should follow suit.”
Dillon smiled. “You don’t have to hate me because I’m an American,” said Dillon playfully. “You can hate me because I’m the one that’s informing you that the game is sold out, so getting in might be a problem.”
Robert’s face went from calm and confident to potentially devastated. “So, she will be in town, but I won’t be able to see her?”
“I didn’t say that,” stated Dillon. “I’m saying you’re going to have to talk to a lot of people and see how many of them will be willing to help you.”
“You don’t have any possible leads?”
“Not a one,” replied Dillon. “I’m sorry, but if you need any help, let me know. I will see what I can do.”
Robert sipped his coffee and placed the empty cup on the table. “I suppose I have my work cut out for me then.”
Dillon nodded. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” replied Robert sarcastically.
Chapter 2
“Jackson, I need a huge favor,” he said in his phone, looking down at the list he constructed with the many names already scratched off it. He’d been at it for hours, going through every potential friend, client, and acquaintance that could get him into the game. With the list of names dwindling down to the bottom, Robert continued to work his magic and skills of persuasion to get him into the game and up into the luxury suites without much of a hindrance. “Look, I know it’s a long shot, but do you possibly have a way into the game at the Stade Louis? I really need to get in there to talk to somebody, but it’s sold out and I can’t seem to get any traction.” He paused as Jackson disappointed him on the other end of the phone, not being able to offer any way for him into the stadium. “Well, I appreciate you thinking of me. Give my best to your family,” he said as he hung up the phone, shaking his head in disbelief as he moved down to the next name on the list.
Robert scratched the next name off his list as he placed the phone down, sighing dejectedly as his frustration started to grow. Can no one get me into that box? He thought to himself as he looked down the list.
He closed h
is eyes and cleared his head briefly before searching through the contacts on his cell phone to find the next person to call.
He set the phone down after the person on the other end didn’t answer, which was starting to prove to be the most common of things for him. It was a Friday afternoon and many of his colleagues were out on their yachts, in the mountains at their chalets, or at other points on the globe where they could relax and unwind without having to worry about their investments, businesses, or other serious matters. Robert was never good at relaxing, opting to spend time in a casino or on a date with a beautiful woman instead of vacationing to remote and exotic parts of the world.
He looked down at his list again as he continued to mumble under his breath in frustration. All the names were scratched out, leading him back to where he was when the day began with the time to kick off coming up quickly. He flipped through his contacts again and pressed send, placing the phone back up to his ear as it started to ring. After two short rings, Dillon picked up on the other end.
“Robert, what’s going on?” he asked in a calm and friendly tone. “Are you on your way into the stadium yet?”
Robert sighed softly before looking out the window at the beautiful scenery outside of his home, near the Casino de Monte Carlo. It was on the eighth story of an older, restored building, that had a breathtaking view of the Mediterranean Sea. “Dillon, I’m no closer to the football game than I was when we were sitting at the café yesterday,” he confessed, hoping his friend would have some more advice.
“Ouch,” replied Dillon. “I find it hard to believe that no one had a way to get into the box.”
“Me, too,” continued Robert. “And to be even more critical about this, no one could even get me into the stadium. It’s completely sold out.”
Dillon chuckled a bit on the other end of the phone call while Robert stared out at the Mediterranean.
“I don’t follow sports enough to understand the reasoning behind it being sold out,” stated Robert plainly, trying his best to hold back his frustrations.
“I still don’t understand how you, someone from England where they have a professional team every twenty miles, don’t follow football,” Dillon stated sarcastically while Robert tried to come up with a new plan without much time to fully form it. “Robert, just because the game is sold out doesn’t mean that it is at capacity,” continued Dillon, slowing his tone a bit and trying to get Robert focused. “I can think of several times where I’ve gotten into some event that was sold out just because I knew the right person at the gate.”
Robert blinked his eyes a bit and refocused them on the countertop in the kitchen while allowing what Dillon said to set in. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“I mean, just because it is sold out, doesn’t mean someone won’t let you in, and you can find a seat that was bought but wasn’t filled,” clarified Dillon. “Even though the seat was purchased, that doesn’t mean the person will show up to claim it. Perhaps a steward, gate attendant, or someone else involved with the game will know of someone not coming to the game and can let you have their seat for a certain price.”
“So, I’m going to have to pay off someone to get into the game?”
“Oh yeah,” said Dillon. “You’re going to have to grease a few people’s palms to get up to the box with Sulagna Patel, but I know you’re not lacking in terms of funds.”
Robert chuckled a bit as he walked out of his kitchen with the phone still against his ear to grab his jacket. “So then, I guess I’m going to have to do this the hard way.”
“I honestly figured it would come to this anyway,” replied Dillon. “I can’t think of many of your contacts that would have access to this stadium.”
“You’re probably right, but it was worth an attempt,” he stated with contempt as he grabbed his wallet and other belongings and walked toward the front door of his flat. “I will see you at the casino this evening. I will let you know how everything goes over drinks.”
“I’m sure we’re both going to need them,” continued Dillon.
Robert hung up the phone and placed it in his pants pocket as he put on his wool coat and walked toward the elevator and made his way toward the bottom floor. Robert didn’t waste any time as the doorman opened the glass door of his building and nodded toward him, making his way to the first taxi in the line and stepping into the backseat.
“Stade Louis II please,” he said in his British accent, forgetting that the bulk of the population spoke French as their only language. He paused briefly as the driver looked at him in the rear-view mirror, though not long as he stepped on the gas gently and took off.
Robert was not a fan of long car rides, preferring to travel by train or by airplane whenever possible. Though not someone who got motion sick, he was plagued by constant restlessness when he was in the backseat of a car, unable to walk or move about to keep his legs and mind occupied. Unfortunately for Robert, Monte Carlo and Fontvieille were on different ends of Monaco and nearly a forty-minute drive from each other. He tried to close his eyes as they drove down the road, opting not to look at the scenery of the area and instead relaxing a bit before arriving at the stadium.
As the taxi pulled up to the stadium, Robert opened his eyes from his brief sleep to notice the large crowd heading into the stadium. How am I going to get into the stadium like this, he thought to himself, not even considering how he would get to the luxury box of Sulagna Patel. He knew what was at stake though. Dillon made it clear he wouldn’t personally help fund Robert’s company unless they could make it into the Consortium. It was a large gamble, and one that Robert was slowly starting to regret making when he purchased the fledgling company.
The taxi stopped in front of the gate as Robert adjusted himself in the seat, fixing his jacket and pants while reaching behind him to grab his wallet. He pulled out several euros and handed it to the taxi driver, overpaying him but Robert didn’t have time to count money, and he figured the driver could use a large tip for the distance he drove. He opened the door to the cab and stepped out, looking out in awe at the large crowd as they slowly moved through the gates and toward their seats. He exhaled slowly as he pulled out his phone and sent a text to Dillon. “This crowd is the largest I think I have ever been a part of.”
He held the phone firmly in his right hand as he tried to find his first target, knowing that it would possibly take several conversations to get into the stadium. Robert looked around and noticed several police officers carrying someone away from the stadium for scalping tickets near one of the gates. “That’s unfortunate,” he whispered to himself, seeing a potential way into the stadium heading toward the back of a police car. Without thinking, Robert walked over to the police car and stopped, thinking to himself that if he purchased those tickets from the scalper now, he was just as guilty and the police would never have an easier opportunity to gather another victim. He sighed softly while nodding at the scalper, who shook his head in reply. Robert turned and walked toward a steward who was doing his best to usher people into the stadium.
“Sir!” exclaimed Robert, getting the attention of the steward as he tried to corral the many football fans. “Can you help me get into the stadium?” he asked bluntly, not wasting anytime with pleasantries or soft spoken discussions. “I really need to get in there.”
The steward looked at him with a confused look. “Do you not have a ticket?” he said in a very thick, French accent.
“No, the game is sold out,” he answered. “I really want to get in and see this game but there is not a ticket to buy.”
“Then I cannot help you if you do not have a ticket,” he answered rudely, turning to try and continue to move the people through the gates.
Robert stepped in front of the steward again, gaining his attention as the steward started to become perturbed. “Sir, please. You have to know someone who isn’t coming, and I would be happy to pay you to get in.”
The steward continued to look annoyed as he s
tuck his hand out and pointed at a booth on the other end of the stadium. “Go to the will call window and see if they have any tickets there,” he answered rudely, giving Robert a sliver of hope.
“They hold tickets there for certain people who may have alerted them they are not coming.”
Robert’s eyes were opened wide as he finally received some great news. He patted the steward on the shoulder and thanked him before walking through the crowd as it slowly started to dwindle toward the will call window. The game was about to kick off as music bellowed over the loudspeakers with both teams walking out of the dressing room tunnels to stand on the pitch together.
The crowd outside of the stadium was thinning out with all the supporters having reached their seats as Robert made it up to the will call window. With the stadium starting to fill up and the teams reaching the pitch, there wasn’t anything remotely close to a line in front of the will call window, allowing Robert to walk straight up to the only attendant working. “Good afternoon,” he said with his thick, British accent.
“Good afternoon, sir. How may I be of assistance today?” replied the attendant, a beautiful woman with dark brown hair and, surprisingly to Robert, an equally thick British accent. Robert was stunned, standing in front of the window with his mouth agape as the familiar accent pierced his consciousness and surprised him. “Sir? Are you alright?”
“Yes!” shouted Robert as he stumbled to gather himself and focus on his objective. He exhaled a couple times before looking on at the beautiful young woman, studying how her hair framed her face with subtle curls and draped down the top of her back. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m not used to hearing anyone speak in the King’s,” he said attempting to justify his stammering and awkward stare.
“It’s quite alright,” she replied politely. “Most people around here aren’t used to hearing it either,” she joked, catching Robert by surprise as she stood against her window with her hands folded together. “So, are you here to pick up a ticket?”
