by Suzie Nelson
“I’m terribly sorry to bother you, Mr. Ramsey, but you have some people here that insist on seeing you.” Johnson stood nervously at the end of Edward’s huge king-sized bed.
“What the hell are you doing in here? Get out!” Oblivious to anything that had just been said, Edward rolled on his side and tried to ignore the leering man beside him.
“Mr. Ramsey!” Johnson prodded Edward’s shoulder and then quickly retreated to avoid any sudden blows. “The FBI is here. They are insisting on speaking with you right now.”
Edward’s head shot up as soon as he heard the mention of the FBI. Nothing sent shivers down the spine of a banker like the FBI as even the slightest hint of investigation within the media could course stock market prices to decrease.
“The FBI?” With red eyes and foul breath Edward looked up at Johnson.
“Yes, sir. They are waiting for you in the lounge.” Johnson was relieved to see that Edward was starting to understand the urgency and began to head back to the door. “I will tell them you are on your way and I will have some coffee waiting for you.”
“Yes. Thank you, Johnson. Just give me a minute.” Edward waved his arm as Johnson left the room and then he got out of the bed as his head spun in every direction. His mind was trying to think of all the possible reasons why the FBI could be at his house but at the same time, the thick haze that clogged his thoughts prevented him from thinking clearly. In an effort to look presentable, Edward threw on a clean shirt and splashed his face with water but he still felt as if he had just been dragged through a hedge backward.
By the time he made it down the stairs and into the hallway, Edward could smell the strong Columbian coffee that Johnson had promised and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on a cup. Edward walked into the lounge trying to embrace himself for the unwelcomed conversation when he suddenly froze in his step. There, sitting on his cream sofa with a stiff-necked gentleman was Miss Fabrice.
“Alexia?” Edward glared at her as both agents stood up.
The male officer, dressed in a simple gray shirt and black jacket, stepped forward and flipped open his identity badge. “Mr. Ramsey, thank you for coming. I am agent Cofield and this is my colleague Agent Cross. If you could join us we have a few matters that we would like to discuss with you.”
“Is this a joke?” Edward stumbled over to another sofa as he kept his eyes fixed on Alexia. “She’s not an FBI agent, that’s Miss Fabrice. You were here just last night in that room…” Edward pointed across the hall over toward the hidden library but agent Cofield jumped in before he could finish his sentence.
“Agent Cross had been trying to infiltrate your inner circle of investors by working undercover as Miss Alexia Fabrice, an aggressive investor looking for illegal insider trading. But we have come to a point in our investigation where we no longer need to use the fabricated Miss Fabrice.” Agent Cofield showed no emotion and didn’t add any unnecessary details to his account.
“Aggressive investor, is that what you call it? Ha!” Edward sat down as he studied Agent Cross who was now sitting opposite him. She looked the same, still stunningly beautiful but she was now rigid and lifeless. Her long dark hair was slicked back into a tight bun and she was dressed in a boring pantsuit that did no favors for her amazing figure.
“Look, I told Alexia or Agent Cross, whoever you are – I don’t have anything to tell you about insider trading. I wish I could help you guys but I can’t.” Edward looked around for Johnson hoping that he would step into the room with a steaming hot cup of coffee but he didn’t materialize.
“We know that you’re involved.” Agent Cross finally spoke and looked directly at Edward without hesitating. “You might not have been willing to spill the beans for Miss Fabrice but we know that Ramsey Consulting has made some very lucrative transactions.”
For a brief second, Edward and Agent Cross looked at each other and they both thought back to their brief encounter in the hidden library. “It’s not illegal to make money and that’s my business – I’m very good at picking the right transactions and being lucrative. It’s not a crime.”
Agent Cofield stood up from the couch and passed a card over to Edward. “Mr. Ramsey, we can’t go into specifics of our case but we are thoroughly investigating a number of your financial partners and we would appreciate any assistance that you can offer. We are particularly interested in Mr. Carl Fatly and his recent merger with Goran Industries.”
Edward turned the card over in his hand and read the limited credentials of both agents. “Like I said, wish I could help but I can’t. I don’t know anything about Carl Fatly or his business dealings. You would have to speak with him.” Edward remained seated as he watched both agents move toward the hall.
“That might be so but if you are cooperative with the FBI now it might help you avoid any unnecessary trouble later.” Agent Cofield looked deadly serious as he spoke and then suddenly switched into a lighter mannerism. “Well, we won’t keep you any longer. Thank you for your time, Mr. Ramsey.”
Both agents walked out into the hall where Johnson met them at the exit. Edward flicked the card onto the table in front of him as he shouted, “It was nice seeing you again, Miss Fabrice.”
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Pretend To Be Mine
Ramsey Billionaire Brothers Series Book 1
Chapter 1
“Are you kidding me with this shit, Jordan?” Edward Ramsey slammed a handful of daily newspapers onto the conference table near where his younger brother, Jordan, sat. The pair looked remarkably similar, although Jordan would be considered by most people to be the more handsome. They both had dark brown hair, warm brown eyes and the same chiseled jaw bone that their late father had blessed them with.
Jordan reached out and fingered through the newspapers although he already knew what they said. “I had absolutely no idea the factories were hiring subsidiaries to do the work.” Jordan knew that he had done nothing wrong but still felt that he had to justify himself to his older brother.
“That’s not exactly the point, is it?” Edward paced around the room as a nervous assistant ran in and out with a jug of hot coffee. “I mean for Christ’s sake, they were using child laborers to make the clothes! This is your business, your baby and you should have made more thorough checks.” Jordan couldn’t help to look at Edward in the same light as his father because he looked and sounded just like him.
“I did!” Jordan stood to his feet determined that he would explain himself before he was made the scapegoat of a bad situation. “I did all the due diligence and all our contracts specifically state that all orders will be terminated if any employees are found to use child laborers. I have done everything in my power to prevent exactly this type of problem. I visited factories, personally hired the management team and made it very clear to everyone that abuses like this would not be tolerated.” Jordan didn’t know how else to defend himself. He felt sickened by the whole thing.
He looked down at the newspapers and read the headlines over in his mind.
“Ramsey Fashion Empire Embroiled in Child Labor Scandal.”
“Ramsey Brother’s Profit from Child Abuse.”
He read headline after headline that all accused him personally of using child laborers to make the clothes for his fashion label Ramsey. When the opportunity had first arisen for Jordan to take the plunge into the fashion industry he had made it clear to all his business partners that they would make and produce clothes at a fair and reasonable price. His dream had been to create a label that not only designed amazing clothes but also cared for humanitarian ethics by paying good salaries and running educational programs for staff. When Jordan has first launched Ramsey, he had been praised by both the business and fashion world for making wise and ethical decisions that modeled ideal business practices but now everything had been d
estroyed.
“Have you spoken with Blake yet?”
Jordan looked up at Edward who was still pacing the room lost in his own thoughts.
“No. Not yet. I don’t really see what he has to do with this cock up.”
Edward flashed Jordan a look of rage and although Jordan wanted to say something he knew there was no point when his brother was all fired up. Blake Ramsey was the youngest of the three brothers and they had all become very successful businessmen within their own respective fields. Edward’s expertise was finance – he oversaw and managed the financial aspects of the Ramsey Empire, making strategic investments but allowing each brother the authority to run their own area. Blake, who was only two years younger than Jordan, worked in the music industry and managed a number of record labels and PR companies. Jordan and Blake were extremely close, and although they loved their older brother Edward, they bonded over the fact that he could be overbearing and stiff.
“It’s probably not going to affect his business but he’s undoubtedly going to be asked questions about it. Should we not get him in so that we can all get prepared for the media onslaught?”
Jordan’s phone had already been ringing off the hook and the Ramsey Headquarters were bombarded with calls and a few protestors who managed to sneak through the security into the reception area.
“And what’s our line Jordan? Although we have made money off the backs of innocent children we promise never to do it again?” Edward was past the point of listening to reason, all he could think about was the sinking stock rate of the whole company and how it would have a knock-on effect on all their investments. Not to mention the damage to the reputation their father worked so hard to build up.
Jordan bit his lip and clenched his fist, trying not to say something he would regret. “Look, I know this is bad but there was no way we could have seen this coming. I did everything to ensure it wouldn’t happen but this one factory subcontracted the work without permission. It’s completely against the contract and we will be able to sue them for it.”
“And you think we can just explain that to the media? It’s already out there – images of children making T-shirts with our name written across the front. It doesn’t matter that the factory went behind our back, our reputation is ruined.” Edward finally sat down on one of the desk chairs and threw his arms up behind his head in defeat.
“No. I won’t accept that.” Jordan knew how bad the images looked for the company but he wasn’t going to let someone else’s mistake destroy everything that he had worked hard for over the past several years. “The Ramsey fashion label has done a lot of good and I won’t let it be taken down by one blunder that we didn’t even cause. We can do something, we can give more funds to charity and pay for those specific kids to go to school…something...there has to be something we can do!”
***
A few hours later, after promising Edward that he would come up with a plan to turn the Ramsey fashion line around, Jordan sat in his living room with one of his closest friends and PR guru, Barrack Amara. The pair had spent the past hour scheming and trying to come up with some sort of public stunt that would redeem Jordan and his business but they had not been able to think of anything good enough to wash over the child laborer scandal.
“How about a photo shoot with the children involved? You can be with them at their new school and we can get some pictures of them hugging and thanking you?” Barrack had made a number of similar suggestions and was only offering this one because his ideas had started to fade.
“No. I don’t want it to look like we are using them, it will just come across as fake, you know that. We have already provided the funds for them to be schooled but I want to move away from that whole issue, otherwise it will always be mentioned.” Jordan raked his hands through his short brown hair and sighed out in frustration. Just getting out of the Ramsey Headquarters and back to his Manhattan penthouse had been a difficult task with all the paparazzi following him.
Barrack and Jordan had been friends since their days in an elite boarding school. Barrack was from South Africa and though he was an American now, he still had a strong South African. Dressed in a plain blue shirt, his dark skin and dark eyes brightened the plainness of his outfit. He observed his friend for a while considering whether he should pull out his ace advice. “I have one suggestion but I don’t think you will like it.”
Jordan lifted his head and spoke without directly looking at Barrack. “I’m game for anything at the moment. What is it?”
Barrack sat up but hesitated before he started his suggestion. Jordan was not the type of man that would agree to anything just for fame and fortune, and Barrack knew that his friend would hate this idea but it might be the only way to save him. “Well, I met Danica Cliffe’smanager last week. Chelsea Kane, I think her name was and she mentioned that Danica loves the Ramsey line.”
“So?” Jordan wrinkled his brow out of frustration.
“You must know Danica Cliffe?” Barrack waited for an acknowledgment but Jordan just looked blankly at him. “The hottest model at the moment? She is doing everything, Gucci, Calvin, Dior…practically everyone is falling over themselves to book her. Jordan, for fuck sake, you own a fashion label – are you seriously telling me you have no idea who Danica Cliffe is?” He looked at Jordan as though he had just come out of hiding and had never heard of fashion.
“Barrack, I run the business. I care about the production, costs, managers, designers and the quality of the clothes but beyond that, I have no idea who these idiot models are that walk up and down the catwalks. I try my hardest to avoid them all as they seldom have anything between their ears except air,” Jordan spoke more harshly than he actually believed but his general sentiment was the same; he thought that all models were money grabbing, self-obsessed, conceited fools.
“Wow! I hope your designers don’t hear you speaking like that? Those idiot models can help make or break a fashion label by simply wearing, or not wearing, their line.”
“Who cares what I think. You haven’t told me your idea…just get to the point.” Jordan took a sip from his water bottle hoping that Barrack would move on from his personal feelings about models.
“Okay.” Barrack lifted his hands indicating that Jordan should calm down. “Anyway, Danica Cliffe is big into clean living. She only eats organic, she’s a vegan, recycles everything…you know the type?”
“Yeah…she’s a bimbo with a conscience. Let me guess...she probably does yoga and conserves her sweat while taking a selfie at the same time. An airhead.” Jordan had met numerous models during his career to know that everyone jumped on the ‘clean living’ bandwagon at some point in order to prove they had a personality and a conscience.
“I wouldn’t phrase it like that but yeah, she’s making a real name for herself in and out of the industry. Everything she touches turns to gold and her manager mentioned that she loves our line.”
“Great, so get her modeling some of our stuff and have her talk about our fucking ethics,” Jordan cut into Barrack’s sentence before he had a chance to finish. The stress has already started to get the best of him.
“Perhaps. But I was thinking of something more...personal.” Barrack looked over Jordan nervously wondering if his friend would be able to pick up on his hint.
“Personal? What do you mean?” Jordan had no idea where Barrack was going with his plan.
“Well, Danica is single and if she started to date someone they would get a lot of media attention. Everyone loves the power couples these days, Bey and Jay-Z, whoever Taylor Swift dates…it all creates a lot of buzz. We could use that to our advantage,” Barrack was trying to select his words carefully as he could see the realization was starting to dawn on Jordan’s face.
“No!” Jordan waved his hand in protest. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Just hear me out for a second, it really could save the company.” Barrack knew too well that Jordan was repulsed by the idea but he also k
new his friend would do anything to save his business and protect the company with his brothers. “We could set up a meeting with Danica. You two can talk, get to know one another and discuss the possibility of having a fake relationship that would benefit both parties. We would make it clear to her manager that it’s purely for publicity reasons; there would be no actual relationship and we’d have some sort of contract stipulating that.” Barrack paused and gave Jordan a few seconds to think through the proposal as he planned the whole thing in his mind.
“Even if we agreed to do this, what would be in it for her?” Jordan hated the idea and he couldn’t understand why anyone would do such a thing unless they had to.
“Even with this bad press, Ramsey is still a huge fashion label and you are one of the most desirable bachelors in New York. If she is linked to you, it’s going to propel her career beyond modeling and she could become a household name. Her manager will definitely be able to see the perks of being linked to you. There will probably have to be some sort of hidden fee but she isn’t going to be damaged by having an association with you. And if it’s going well, we could discuss the possibility of her modeling for us or even doing a joint campaign together. That could actually be huge for us.” Barrack’s mind was working overtime thinking of all the publicity they could do as a fashion power couple.
