by Zuri Day
“I don’t like to hear talk like that.”
“Why? That’s what it is.”
“It’s a penis.”
“That word sounds yuckier, if you ask me. Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t say it anymore. The next time I run into a man named Dick, I’ll call him Penis and tell him I had to, because I’m a lady, I am!”
Slipping into an English accent as she ended the sentence cracked them both up.
“Girl, being around you twenty-four-seven would make me crazy!”
“Crazy in love.”
“No, crazy in an institution.”
“From what I see, you need a little craziness in your life.”
The comment genuinely surprised him. “How do you figure?”
“How do I not? A masquerade ball, and your sense of adventure is a black suit and sunglasses. Ooh, daring!”
“Says the woman who walked in naked save a couple of leaves.”
“I gave off the appearance of being naked but was covered in what you tore off last night.”
“If one looked close enough, they could see your bare ass.”
“No, that was later, when I got here and took off my leaves.”
“We’re opposites in every way.”
“That might be a good thing.”
Ike slipped an arm around her. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”
“Friends tell me that I’m one of a kind.”
“Speaking of friends, tell me about Adam.”
“Huh? Oh, you mean Trent. What do you want to know?”
“How’d you meet him?”
“We were both in Switzerland. His cousin and I were in the same school. We both grew up in San Francisco, and with that in common, became good friends. He came to visit. We started talking—he’s from the bay, too—and before I knew it we were best friends.”
“A friend, not an ex-boyfriend?”
“Ooh, asking those kinds of questions. I think somebody’s catching feelings, making sure nobody’s dipping in the cookie jar.”
Ike remained silent, waited for an answer.
“Trent and I never had sex. We fooled around a little, but that was years ago, when I was still in high school and a virgin. He’s bi, and for the last few years has been playing on the other team. So you can stop whatever imaginations are spinning in your head.”
“Have you ever had a serious relationship, besides the failed engagement?”
Quinn brought her chin to her knees. It took a while to answer. “I’ve had relationships where I’ve really loved the person, but I finally realized that I’ve never been in love. Does that make sense?”
“I understand completely.”
“I’m beginning to understand why. To do so one has to be totally vulnerable. It’s hard for me to trust, to open up. I’m afraid of being betrayed, lied to, hurt.”
“What happened to make you that way? Judging from your reaction before, it had to be something traumatic.”
“My reaction when?”
“When I asked about your mother.”
“Oh, that.”
“I can’t help but be curious. It’s my nature, and helps me know more about you. You’ve met almost everyone in my family. You’ve even met London! I just want to know who you are.”
“Okay.”
She said that and nothing more. The room became quiet, lasting so long that Ike wondered if she hadn’t fallen asleep.
“I was born on the East Coast, an only child. We lived in a DC suburb.”
“Which one?”
“Rockville. Typical middle-class family, I guess. There was an older woman who lived near us, Miss Ruthanne. She’d babysit when Mom had a meeting or event.”
“Did your mom work?”
“She was a consultant of some kind, involved in political circles. Always very busy, always on. In every memory I have of her she’s very well put together.
“Two weeks before my twelfth birthday, she went to a function in DC. Miss Ruthanne came over. We ate dinner, watched TV. Dad was out of town. The phone rang. Miss Ruthanne answered. I remember her becoming very upset. She must have told me about the accident, but I pretty much shut down after that. Caught bits and pieces. It was winter. Icy roads. Five-car pileup. Two people died.
“My dad shut down, too. He and I are a lot alike in that way. Shortly after everything was over, he took me to my grandmother’s house. I didn’t see him for three months.”
“Was that here? In Paradise Cove?”
Quinn nodded. “She was amazing, my grandmother. Still is. I became very withdrawn, didn’t talk much. She enrolled me in ballet classes and arranged music lessons. Violin,” she quickly added. “Because you’re curious like that.”
Ike smiled, reached for her hand and held it.
“Just as the fog of grief was beginning to lift the slightest bit, Dad came back. Announced that San Francisco was our new home, and two days later we were headed to the airport.”
“That had to be hard for you. Leaving Mrs. Newman.”
“I was sad to leave, but happier that I was with my dad, who by now was more himself. San Francisco was new and fun, like an adventure. I loved our house and my room, which was huge and painted pink and purple with a bay window. Dad hired a nanny with a background in child psychology. Her name was Gloria. She was more on the serious side, like Dad, but encouraging and supportive. On top of losing my mom, I was a hormonal preteen. She helped me navigate that. I knew she genuinely cared about me, even loved me.”
“Are the two of you still in touch?”
Quinn shook her head sadly. “I should try to find her. She’s probably online. Things changed a year later, but for the time she was in my life, it meant a lot.”
“What happened to change things?”
“Dad met Viviana, his current wife. We’d been there for a little over a year, and I was doing a lot better. Dad was always busy but he made time for me, riding bikes, sports, the movies now and then. And we’d eat out. On one particular Sunday, he said we were going out to eat and to get dressed up. That was a little different. It was usually a casual thing. But I was excited. I thought we were doing something special or he had a surprise. I didn’t know. But I was game.
“We arrived at the restaurant and were seated. That’s when he informed me that someone was going to join us. A little while later this woman approaches our table—beautiful, elegant. I disliked her immediately. The feeling was mutual. She said the right things, smiled the right way, but I could feel that it wasn’t genuine. She wanted my father. He was a package deal. So I was tolerated. Six months later, the wedding of the decade took place at Bentley Reserve. You’re probably familiar with it?”
“Very much so. One of the financial district’s oldest and most prominent landmarks.”
“By the time they returned from an extended honeymoon, Dad was wrapped around her finger. He went back to work, she became the woman of the house and everything changed.”
“How?”
“Replacing Gloria with someone I believe served as her watchdog. For me that was yet another loss. The household became formal and highbrow. I rebelled, which is probably exactly what she wanted. Because a year later, I was in Switzerland and she had my dad the way she’d always wanted him, all to herself.”
“How is the relationship now between you and your dad?”
“Strained. Distant. Not much communication between us in the past five or so years.”
“Quinn! He’s your father. How can that happen?”
“Like I said, we’re a lot alike. Grandmother says that’s why the stalemate has gone on so long. She’s right. At times I was horrible and put Dad through a lot. But I love him. And I want him in my life. So I’m going to reach out.”
“Good for you.”
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. “I’m really glad to hear you say that.”
Quinn faced Ike more fully, her gaze filled with admiration...even awe. “You want to know something? Your family is part of the reason. Seeing how all of you interact when together. Working together, the love that’s so obvious. And the respect. I’ve never experienced that, and I must admit... I’m a little jealous.”
“Don’t be jealous. There’s enough love to go around.”
He pulled her close and let his lips give her an idea of how much. She melted into his embrace, but just as his hands began to roam she sat back, moved to widen the distance between them.
“Sweetheart, what is it?”
“Ike...there’s something I need to tell you, and you’re not going to like it.”
Chapter 21
Quinn wanted to tell him and get it over with. But when he heard the topic was business, he insisted on going downstairs for something to eat. “Never discuss money when your stomach’s empty,” he joked. But she saw concern in his eyes.
They showered together, then went to the kitchen. Ike wore a pair of loose workout pants, the band settling around his hips. Clearly in his domain, he methodically assembled items for an omelet and began preparations.
Quinn had on one of Ike’s sleeveless T-shirts. On her, it looked like a dress. She poured juice into two glasses, retrieved plates and silverware, then settled at island. For ten excruciating minutes, she engaged in small talk while Ike cooked. When silent, she mentally weighed the options of how best to break this news. Finally, with a fluffy vegetable omelet before her and twice the amount on Ike’s plate, he said, “Okay, talk.”
“How thoroughly did your company vet Global 100?”
Ike’s reaction showed the question caught him off guard. As completely as we do all companies with which we do business. They’d checked multiple references, financial statements, extensive background checks and a few other measures. As investors who stood to gain a considerable profit but would have no ownership in the building, the most important information Global 100 was regarding their financials and the ability to successfully assist in funding this deal. And everything checked out. “Why? Is what you’re wanting to share about our partner?”
“Yes.”
Ike paused, looking slightly amused as he drank orange juice. “And you believe it’s information I’ll find upsetting?”
“Yes, Ike. For several reasons, this news is not good.”
Her serious countenance sobered Ike’s mood. He rested his fork on the plate and gave Quinn his undivided attention. “I’m listening.”
“This information isn’t public knowledge. It isn’t something that would be discovered through a vetting process. But it comes from a very reliable source, a person who ended his relationship with the company when he learned how their wealth is obtained. Behind the scenes, far enough to be invisible, are deposed military leaders, corrupt politicians, including heads of state, and dictatorial bullies who use their countries’ riches as their own for financial gain. All while citizens starve, infrastructures crumble...and people die!” Repeating what Trent had told her fueled Quinn’s ire. Though the circumstances were different, she knew how it felt to be treated unjustly.
“They’ve hired what my friend called suits. Men to run the business and make the deals, who present the right corporate image. But behind that facade is a group of narcissists fueled by greed. This person cut ties with Global 100 because, in his words, ‘their money dripped blood.’”
Quinn sat back, drained by the gravity of what she’d shared and wary of Ike’s reaction. For a whole minute, at least, there was none. He studied her, then looked away, his expression unreadable. This was the Ike with whom she was more familiar—deliberate, judicious, controlled. Her nerves grew raw. She was anxious, desperate to know what was on his mind. Was he in shock at hearing this news for the very first time, his mind grappling with the enormity of its implications? Had she relayed information Ike and his family already knew? Suddenly, a thought occurred to her—if the Drakes were in bed with this international band of creeps, she’d just spilled secrets no one should know but the company COO. One partnered with el creepos in a one-hundred-million-dollar deal. While sitting in his kitchen, alone save for him and a block of knives displayed on the counter.
Every crime show she’d ever watched flashed into her mind. What had seemed like the only solution half an hour ago now felt like a very bad idea.
Ike stretched his arms upward before clasping them behind his head. The sudden movement made Quinn flinch. Ike didn’t notice, his mind obviously preoccupied.
“Wow,” he finally uttered. “Just when I thought you couldn’t possibly shock me any more than you have already, I get proved wrong completely. It’s clear from your passion that you believe what this friend told you.”
“Like I said, the source is very credible.”
“Who is it?” Quinn didn’t respond. ”Confidentiality aside, of course. Assuming it was a discussion about Ten Drake Plaza that precipitated this conversation, my being informed is appropriate.”
What if revealing Trent’s identity, or that of his father, put them in danger? What if one of the gangsters got wind that she knew and came to PC? She could get kidnapped! Quinn’s imagination spiraled out of control. Maggie had warned her that watching the Investigation Discovery channel wasn’t good for her health.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes. I need to ask a question, and I hope you answer truthfully.”
“I will.”
“Did you know any of what I just shared? About who is funding Global and benefiting the most from their profits?”
Ike began to frown. The longer he pondered her question, the more it deepened.
“Of course not. How could you even think that question, let alone ask it?”
“I’d never want to believe anything like that, but I had to ask. Dangerous people and billions of dollars can be a very dangerous mix.”
“True, but I would have hoped the time you’ve spent with my family would make such a question moot.”
“I’m sorry. And I’m probably overthinking and overreacting, but I’m protecting people I love.” She paused a few seconds and then said, “It’s my best friend, Trent.”
“You discussed Drake company business with him?”
“Not intentionally. Before Trent arrived in Paradise Cove, we hadn’t seen each other for months. Hadn’t talked much. We were both so excited, ready to catch up on each other’s lives. He shared what was happening in his world. I told him mine. How the accident resulted in me working with you and reviewing a report, and how good it felt to actually use some of what I learned in school. And somewhere in the middle of all of that their name was mentioned.”
“What kind of business deal was it?”
“Deal?”
“Yes. What were Trent’s business dealings with Global?”
“It wasn’t Trent who dealt with them. It was his father.”
“His father is in real estate?”
“No. His father is Phillip Corrigan, the former president of Compliance National, the financial district branch.”
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Quinn was on her way home via town car. Ike was in his home office, searching the internet and poring over files. He found nothing that came close to substantiating any of what Quinn claimed. But what she’d said could not be dismissed. Quinn’s passion lent credibility. The Corrigan name further legitimized it.
Ike checked his watch, then reached for the phone. It was early afternoon. No doubt the Drakes’ Sunday brunch was in full effect. This information was too volatile to share by phone. He quickly placed his tablet and a few pertinent documents in his briefcase. After a quick look around, he snatched his car keys from the hook and was out the
door.
His home was less than five minutes away from where his parents resided. He reached the cul-de-sac quickly but just before turning into it made an abrupt change in plans. This volatile information would no doubt elicit a variety of actions and likely bring on a debate in how to proceed. The closing on Ten Drake Plaza was days away. There was no time to lose. Ike made an executive decision on gut instinct alone. He’d meet with Bernard Lindsay of Global 100 and if necessary, then involve the team. No need to get everyone stirred up over what may be a wild goose chase. Once through the gates and out of the community, Ike engaged his phone. The first call went to voice mail. He left a message and tapped another name.
“Mr. Drake. What can I do for you?”
“Hello, Stan. I hate to bother you on a Sunday, but something’s come up, rather important. I need to make a quick trip to San Francisco.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Drake. How soon would you like to travel?”
“As soon as you can get the plane ready. I’m headed to the airport now.”
When he landed in San Francisco, the whirlwind continued. Ike exited the plane, got into a waiting limo and pulled out his phone. It rang in his hand.
“Mr. Lindsay, how are you?”
“Life is good, Drake. What about yourself?”
“Doing fine. No complaints.”
“That’s good to hear, especially considering the tone of your message. It sounded urgent.”
“Probably sounded a little more serious than it actually is, but I happen to be here in the bay and wanted to meet with you briefly, if possible. I know it’s Sunday, but it is a matter I’d like to clear up.”
“Can you give me an idea of what this is about?”
“I’d prefer to speak privately. It’s probably nothing. But since I’m here...”
“Of course. Where are you?”
“Not too far from Pier 39.”
“I’m about twenty minutes from that area. There’s a little-known spot just below where the tourists gather, a small platform that juts out over the water. It’ll give us privacy. I’ll text the directions.”
