"Richard!" Miranda gasped. "What was that about?"
Michael had known Richard all his life, and he’d never seen him so upset. Beyond angry, beyond tears. Everyone stepped back except for Michael—they’d never seen him that way either.
"I need to talk to you," Richard said at last, still glaring at the door. "Tomorrow."
Michael scoffed. "If you’re going to kick me out of your life on Little Miss Righteous’ orders, you could probably do that—"
"Michael, please," Richard said. Michael pulled back. The only time Richard had ever taken that tone with him was that terrible weekend on the Cape. "I want to meet you for lunch tomorrow."
"Okay, fine," Michael said, now concerned. "Where are you taking me?"
"Anywhere you want," Richard said, looking at him now. "You’re buying."
CHAPTER 7
Jessie was quiet that night. Martin was concerned. Had she finally figured out that he was too old for her, and that his ambition to be a history professor just didn’t stack up to all of the other future scions of business she must have known since she was born? And then, well, not that he liked to think about this too much, but he knew that Jessie was more experienced than he was. Usually she was adventurous, and it intimidated him. He sort of liked that. But now she seemed preoccupied, and he needed to take the lead. Not something he hadn't done before, but now he was worried he wouldn't do it right.
They were both silent afterwards. Martin looked from side to side in the dark. Should he say something? Would that make it worse? What if they had their first fight? He wasn’t ready for that. What if she told him that he was inadequate, too old, and too middling? What if she said she needed space? Was he too clingy? He wasn’t trying to be...
He couldn’t take it anymore. He cleared his throat. "Jess, is something wrong?"
"When was the last time you heard The Girl From Ipanema?"
"Was I humming that just now? I didn’t think I was, but—"
"What? No, you weren’t. But I think someone else was singing that today, and it sort of weirded me out."
"Oh?" Martin said, trying to sound nonchalant and cover his confusion and relief. "Who?"
Jessie waited a moment before she answered. "Someone who deserves to sing whatever she wants."
Martin didn’t get it, but he was happy. "Is there anything you want me to sing?" Then Jessie giggled.
~~~
Richard met Michael at an Indian restaurant on Newbury Street at eleven-thirty the next day. Michael had already ordered for them by the time Richard arrived.
"Since when are you a fan of Indian food?" Richard asked as he sipped his water.
Michael shrugged. "Very popular in London. When in Rome, blah, blah, blah." He picked up a pappadum and started munching on it. Michael paused and said, "Okay, I have a few things to say before you say what I know you’re going to say. First of all, your colleagues had better have it all wrong about you and Emily. It’s one thing to leave Zainab—Zainab! And over Sophie!"
"That’s not what happened and you know it."
"Whatever. But it’s another thing to jump to Emily’s bed. I mean, first of all, she’s barely separated, second of all, she’s got a kid, and third of all, she is one bossy, imperious little bitch, and you know it."
Richard sighed. "Could you not call her a bitch, please?"
"Because she’ll let you have it if she finds out, right? Why do you and Miranda and Zainab care so damn much about what she thinks? I mean, Jesus, you’re going to let her tell you not to have me around anymore? She’s that important?" Silence. "Well?"
"Are you done?"
"I’ll let you know if I think of anything else."
"Okay. Thank you for letting me have my turn. And to answer your question, the reason we all care so much is because she’s generally right. And whether she is or not, she’s willing to do anything for the people she cares about. I think that’s why she and Miranda have always gotten along so well."
"I know what Miranda’s willing to do, but what has Emily done?"
Richard never considered telling Michael about Zainab and Joe Welles, and certainly not after what Richard had done to Zainab. "It doesn’t matter," he said. "Just know that Emily has proven herself on more than one occasion, and my friendship with her is non-negotiable. Just as my relationship with you is also non-negotiable."
"Really?" Michael asked, starting to relax a bit.
"Really," Richard said reluctantly. "But I hope you’re not going to make me belabor that, because that would make this next part extremely awkward."
Michael wrinkled his brow, but the saag paneer and chicken vindaloo came before he could say anything. "So what were you two arguing about?" Michael asked when the waiter left.
Richard stabbed his chicken with his fork. "Emily, in addition to being loyal and brave, is also one of the few people around me who isn’t impressed by my accomplishments; academic or otherwise. At least, not enough to let me coast on them." He drank his water. "She told me, to paraphrase, that I needed to start acting like a real boss and not a martyr. She told me that I need to admit when I need help, especially when other people are depending on me. Which is really stupid of them, isn’t it? Did you know that Vijay turned down a spot as VP of another company in California so he could stay with me a few years ago? And that Carlos and his wife just had a baby? Or that Jordan just took out a second mortgage? These are all things that I, in some way, have to own up to. I thought I was being a big boy by trying to manage with what we have, but the truth is that I just don’t like to admit when I’m in over my head. And right now, I am way over my head."
Michael blinked, then leaned forward on the table and laughed. "Richard, are you kidding me? Are you asking me for a loan?"
"See, now I’m beginning to remember why I didn’t want to do this in the first place. And for the record, I’m asking for an investment."
Michael smiled, more at himself than Richard. "How much are we talking?"
Richard said a number. Michael raised his eyebrows. "That’s how much you gave back to Alex?"
"That’s half of what I gave back to him."
"Richard—"
"Michael, don’t start. I wasn’t going to let him buy his way out of what he did to my parents."
"He wouldn’t have," Michael said forcefully. "There is nothing he could have done to repay you for what he did—to all of us—but you, out of everyone, were entitled to that money."
"He can keep it, Michael. That’s all he’s ever going to have."
"Believe me, that is more comfort to me than anything else." He leaned back in his chair. "Did you ask your mother?"
"I believe Emily’s ultimatum was either you or my mother, so I chose the lesser of two evils."
"Are you kidding me?" Michael asked, ignoring the joke. "Your mother could double what you gave back."
"No."
Michael frowned. "Even if it meant fewer strings?"
"Strings, Michael? The standard return on investment wouldn’t be enough?"
"The way you’ve been running things? Frankly, no. You’re brilliant, but I think I’m the one who got the Hendrickson head for business, and I’m actually a little hurt that you never asked me to help."
"Consider yourself asked."
"Oh, I do."
"Is that the only string?"
Michael smiled. He was enjoying himself. "No, I don’t think so."
CHAPTER
8
"Excuse me?" Emily fairly shrieked when Miranda came home that night. "He did what?"
Miranda sat on the couch looking at the floor. "Michael told Richard that he won’t consider his investment request unless I ask him. In person."
"Eww."
"This is sort of your fault."
"Then how about I make it to him?"
"Because I think we’re all hoping he says ‘yes’."
"It’s not worth it," Emily said heatedly.
"Right, because we’re all being so productive in Richa
rd’s living room, eating his lasagna, scrambling to buy supplies."
Emily smacked her head. "Damn! Can’t we just get Lucy to sign those damned papers?"
"Not that Jessie got too specific, but I’m pretty sure Richard made it clear that if we did get at her money, he not only wasn’t going to take it but he would also fire the two of us."
"I had no idea that man could be so stubborn."
"You could have asked me." Emily turned to see Zainab standing next to the living room glass doors. "He’s very patient, but very stubborn. Fortunately, only about a few things, and he usually has a good reason."
"And the good reason here would be—"
"I don’t know," Zainab said sadly, "but I think he doesn’t want anything to interfere with truly forgiving his mother."
None of the three said anything for a moment, but all of them were thinking about how much they wanted Richard to mend his relationship with his mother once and for all.
"Fine," Emily said at last. "Go ahead, ask Michael, but don’t play any of his games."
"Unless you want to," Zainab said with a smile.
"Okay, what is up with you?" Miranda said.
"Nothing," Zainab said innocently. "I’m not allowed to just be happy?"
"Forgive us," Emily said dryly. "We’re just a little jealous."
"Tell me about it tomorrow—but right now, I have to get ready for my date." She walked up the stairs, and Emily and Miranda burst out laughing.
Emily shrugged. "What do I know?"
~~~
Later that night, Miranda dialed Michael’s number. He smiled when he saw who it was, but let it ring a few times before he answered it. "Miranda," he said, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"
"You know very well why I’m calling."
"Actually, I’m not sure. Is it because you miss me and can’t live without me? Or is it because you, I don’t know, need something from me? Or are both sort of the same thing?"
"Why do you always have to revert to creepy?"
"Is that how you talk to your potential investors? No wonder Richard’s been reduced to asking me."
"No, apparently, I’m asking you."
"I haven’t heard you say it."
"Michael, will you please lend Richard, your cousin, who’s always loved you and had your back, who graduated from college late because of you, and who also happens to be brilliant, the money that he needs to keep his dream afloat?"
"See, the thing about the phone is that I can’t see the look of—longing—on your face when you say that. I need to see how much you need something from me. I need to really believe."
"If your cousin couldn’t sell it—"
"Hmm—no, I’m afraid we don’t have that kind of relationship."
"Okay, Michael. Just tell me where and when to meet you."
Michael yawned. "I think...the gym."
"The gym?" she said incredulously. "I didn’t realize you’d gotten the okay to work out yet."
"I have been released to swim as well as work out with the onsite PT and get a massage."
"A massage?"
"Mm hmm. Very good for the recovery."
"I’m sure."
"And then the sauna—very relaxing after all that hard work."
"So would you like to meet me before or after all that hard work?"
"Before, during and after. I imagine that if you’re asking me for that much money your pitch is going to take a long time."
Michael knew Miranda was turning pink on the other end of the phone. "Fine, what time?"
"Nine o’clock, at the pool, and don’t forget your bikini." Before she could say anything, he hung up. She looked at the phone, then shook her head. She refused to acknowledge that she was smiling.
CHAPTER 9
The pool was all but empty at nine o’clock when Miranda walked in. Michael was doing laps with a kickboard by himself when she arrived. He came up and took off his goggles when he saw her. He gestured at her robe. "I don’t know how well you’re going to be able to swim in that."
"I don’t think I’m getting in."
He swam over to the edge. "Sorry, I must not have make myself clear. This pitch has to be interactive."
"I’m a lousy swimmer," she said through gritted teeth.
"That’s okay. I’ll save you."
"I don’t know if you could with that bad shoulder of yours."
"I don’t think I’ll need too much arm strength for the mouth to mouth part."
"I don’t think that will be necessary."
"Then what are you afraid of?"
"Fine." She threw off her robe and looked straight ahead so she wouldn’t see him admiring her in her white bikini. She climbed in, and swam to the opposite side of the pool. She came up and pushed her wet hair away. "So," she said, "why don’t we start with your questions?"
He swam to her, so she swam to the other side again. He smiled, swimming to her again, standing right in front of her. "The acoustics," he said a little breathlessly. "They’re really bad in here, so you need to stay pretty much right next to me if I’m going to hear you."
She stepped back a bit. "I think this is close enough." He smiled as he looked her up and down. She rolled her eyes. "How about I just wait outside until you’re done? I wouldn’t want to interfere with your laps."
He waded over to her. "Actually, I was pretty much done when you walked in, so you have my undivided attention."
She looked down into the pool at their reflection, and ran her hands through the water lightly. "What are your questions? About the company?"
"What do you do for Richard exactly?"
"Research into new markets. Marketing. PR. And apparently Investor Relations. Emily and I split the job up—well, most of it, anyway. I guess she’s a little more research, and I’m a little more Investor Relations."
"Why does Richard need two of you?"
"Well, as far as the marketing, the guys can be a little obtuse at times. Emily has to translate them, and then I sort of translate her. We make a good team."
"Richard doesn’t think you can do this on your own?"
"Emily was there first, and she was doing fine, but she and Richard both thought it was a great idea. Hey wait a minute!" she said angrily, looking up. "Look, Emily’s job is not up for negotiation!"
"Did I say that?"
"No, you sneaky bastard, but I’m not as stupid as you think I am. If she goes, I go, and if that’s a condition of your investment, I’ll just tell Richard to grab his swim trunks and meet you here!"
She turned around to leave, but he grabbed her arm. "I’m not trying to get your friend fired."
"Good, because she’s the one who—"
"Yes, I know. Richard told me." He loosened his grip but he didn’t let go. "I’m just trying to get an idea of where Richard’s money is going."
"Since none of us have been paid in two weeks, right now it’s not going anywhere."
"Oh. So this is strictly volunteerism on your part?"
She stepped closer. "Charity might be a better word."
He put his hands on her hips. "And that’s where you and I differ, I guess. I prefer to make investments. Maybe I’ll have to wait a little bit longer for a return, but I know it’ll be there if I make the right one."
She put her hands on his chest. "Yes, I’m pretty sure that if we get out in front of the market, it’ll be very profitable in the future. But since when," she said as he wrapped his arms around her, "have you been a patient man?"
"You have no idea," he whispered, "how long I’ve been waiting for certain things."
She smiled, but before he could kiss her she squirmed out of his arms and swam to the ladder. "Now didn’t you say something about physical therapy?"
They met in the PT room twenty minutes later. Michael groaned for the next hour as the physical therapist dragged him through a number of exercises to strengthen his shoulder. Miranda winced for him, but she took the opportunity to explain their strategy and prospective markets
that they’d identified. She also explained the ideas for hybrids they’d explored, but admitted Richard was the point person for that.
Michael panted when they left the room. "Are you alright?" she asked, rubbing his back before she could catch herself.
He nodded and closed his eyes. "Yeah, I’m just grateful that I don’t have to do that more than three times a week. Okay," he said, taking her hand. "Now the next part of recovery."
He took her into the massage therapy room. The very pretty massage therapist smiled when she saw them, but looked confused. "Adele," he said with a smile, "could you do us a big favor?" He handed her a few bills, then said something quietly. She laughed, and winked at Miranda as she walked out. Michael closed the door, and then started undressing.
"Excuse me?" Miranda said, looking away.
Michael stripped naked and wrapped a towel around his waist. "I told Adele that she should take an early lunch. I think you can handle it."
He got on the table as Miranda opened her mouth. Finally she found her voice. "You realize, of course, that this is sort of precedent setting? I mean, what I do for you, I’ll have to do for our next investor."
"Didn’t you say you and Emily split the duties?"
Miranda rubbed her hands together and walked over to him. "I don’t think," she said as she touched his chest, "that she should be held responsible for my actions."
He sighed as she touched him. "Then how about we just keep this to whatever I have Adele do?"
She smiled. "Then I guess you should roll over."
They left the room thirty minutes later. Miranda smiled triumphantly. It was nice to get him for once. "So, sauna?" she asked chirpily.
Michael bit his lip. "Precedent, huh?"
"It’s only fair."
"Then I’m afraid not. But you can wipe that smug smile off your face, because you still owe me a little time then."
"We could finish this over lunch," she said, batting her eyelashes.
Let's Move On (The New Pioneers Book 4) Page 4
