by C. De Melo
“You’re a clever little lady, Zoë Adams, but not clever enough for me,” the man said in a southern twang while his beady dark eyes lit up in amusement.
“Charles White, I presume?” I asked, amazed that this harmless-looking man was the same one we were running from.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied enthusiastically.
I looked to Lance, who appeared just as surprised as I was.
“What do you want from me?” I demanded, cutting to the chase.
He smiled lecherously and looked at me in a way that made my skin crawl. “Awww, you know what I’m after. Purty lady like you doesn’t have to play games with good ol’ Charlie. You treat me nice, an’ I’ll treat you nicer. I’m a southern gentleman above all else.” He looked over to Francine and winked. “Thanks, sugar. Come see me tomorrow.”
“Oui, monsieur.”
Looking over his shoulder, White said, “Boys?”
Three young men in black came into the room, each one with an automatic weapon aimed at us. Lance and I were forced to lower our guns.
Francine smiled and waved at us. “Au revoir,” she said cheerfully before leaving the room.
The man in uniform nodded to White before taking his leave.
“Please have a seat,” White said to both of us. We obeyed and he continued, “By now I’m sure that you’ve been made aware of the new shift in power at ALTSYS.” He looked at me and waited until I acknowledged what he said with a nod. “I must admit, Mrs. Adams, I’m not too happy about that change. Being the gentleman that I am, I would prefer to deal with your husband.”
“Michael is no longer my husband,” I pointed out. “I am now Ms. Adams.”
“I know, but still…I would rather deal with this man to man.”
“Then deal with me,” Lance said.
White appeared annoyed. “This matter is between me and the lady, here.”
“Leave her out of it. What is it you want? We don’t care about the deal with UAN,” Lance blurted.
White lifted his finger and one of the men came over and punched Lance in the face.
“No!” I cried, reaching out to put myself between Lance and the aggressor.
Lance massaged his jaw and shook his head. He held up his hand to let me know he was okay.
“That was just a warning, Mr. Adams. Oh, and consider it well deserved for killing two of my men,” White said icily.
“It was in self-defense,” I hissed. “They ransacked our bungalow, stole our passports and then pulled a gun on him!”
“Well, they knew the job involved a certain amount of danger,” White retorted. “But that’s beside the point. What I want from you, Ms. Adams, is an annulment of the UAN deal.”
I threw my hands up. “Fine!”
White looked at me in disbelief and it made me wonder why. Did he assume that Michael and I were working together? Perhaps he imagined my greed and lust for power to be as great as that of my ex-husband.
“Just like that?” he asked, looking at me with suspicion.
I raised my eyebrows and stared at him wide-eyed. “Yes, just like that.”
He stared at me for a long moment and then motioned for his men to lower their weapons. The men stood at ease with their guns at their sides. “Ms. Adams, did your husband inform you of his decision to make you the principle shareholder of ALTSYS?”
I folded my hands in my lap and looked at him squarely. “No, he did not.” He looked at me expectantly and I added, “Michael Adams did whatever the hell he wanted whenever the hell he wanted with whomever the hell he wanted without ever giving me any satisfaction. And he never- ever- discussed business with me. And to be perfectly honest with you, Mr. White, I knew better than to ask questions.”
White rubbed his chin as he regarded me thoughtfully. Finally, he said, “I believe you.”
“Thank you,” I said primly.
“I don’t tell my wife anything, either. Better that way. Women can muddle the minds of men; they have the power to make us feel guilt and shame,” he admitted candidly. “Mrs. White has an unlimited shopping budget and that keeps her happy and out of my affairs.”
“Then you know how exactly how my marriage worked,” I said quietly.
“Yes, I do, Ms. Adams. So you will see to it that the UAN deal does not go through?”
“Yes, sir. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it, as long as you leave Lance and I alone afterward and let us live our lives in peace.”
White nodded. “I think we can arrange that,” he said.
“Mr. White, a man of your position and power doesn’t have to think about the possibility of doing anything; he just does. I was married to a man like you, so I know how it works.” I paused in order for my words to sink in and take effect. “Do I have your word that you will leave us alone?”
Charles White extended his hand to me and I shook it. “We have a deal, Ms. Adams. Had I known it would be this easy I wouldn’t have sent my men to search your bungalow. Hell, I wouldn’t have wasted my time flying out here! I missed a down-home Texas barbeque for this.” He chuckled and added, “And I was told you were a hellcat who’d put up a fight…why, you’re just as sweet as pecan pie.”
My eyes narrowed. “Who told you that?”
“Why, your husband, of course. When the CIA confronted him about putting you in charge of ALTSYS, he told them you were a ruthless hellcat in business who could oversee the UAN deal.”
“What?!”
He shrugged. “Those were his exact words according the agent on my payroll.” Lance and I exchanged looks and White added, “Looks to me like your ex-husband is seeking revenge on you for having the hots for his little brother…if you don’t mind me sayin’ so, Ms. Adams.”
“That son-of-a-bitch,” I said under my breath.
“Sum-bitch is right,” White repeated. “Man like him deserves to be in prison. Lucky for you he’ll be there for life. And lucky for you that I didn’t have you-” he glanced at Lance, “or you- killed. Good thing I’m a reasonable man. My momma raised me right.”
I didn’t realize I was crying until White offered me his handkerchief.
“Tell you what I’m gonna do,” he said. “I’d like to compensate you for what happened here tonight. I’ll put you both up at the best hotel on the island and reserve first class tickets on tomorrow night’s flight. You’ll meet with one of my lawyers at ALTSYS when you get to D.C. He’ll have papers for you to sign. How’s that?”
I nodded. “That’s fine, Mr. White.”
“Well then, I’ll have my men make the arrangements.” He stood and bowed to me. It was such an old-fashioned gesture it caught me off-guard. Turning to the three men, he said, “Do it.”
Charles White walked out of the room and my knees almost buckled. Lance placed an arm around me and looked at the men.
“Come with us,” one of them said.
We were led outside via a back door to a vehicle. Lance and I sat in the backseat with one of the men while the other two sat up front. No one spoke as the car headed towards the most expensive beach resort on the island; a luxury high-rise. We were taken to the penthouse and told that our airline tickets would be waiting for us downstairs tomorrow morning. We were also left with the cryptic warning that Mr. White was ‘a man of his word.’
The moment Lance and I were alone, I said, “Well, that way easy.”
The suite was surrounded by reflective tinted glass, allowing us a splendid 360 degree view. The moonlight shimmered on the water.
I walked towards the glass. “I still can’t believe Michael would do something like this.”
“Believe it because he did.”
I turned to look at Lance. “What now?”
He came to stand beside me. “We go to Washington and take care of business.”
I bit my lower lip in thought. “What about Michael? Do you think what Brady said was true?”
“About him being killed if the deal falls through?” I nodded and he continued, “I don’t know, b
ut it’s definitely possible.”
“I don’t want that kind of guilt hanging over our heads,” I admitted.
“Guilt? I’d call it self-defense. Remember, Michael didn’t think twice about putting you in harm’s way.”
I nodded and he led me away from the glass. “We both need some food and then some sleep. Why don’t you take a nice hot shower? You’ll feel better. I’ll order room service.”
He was right. As the hot water massaged my neck and shoulders, my thoughts were on Michael. If he died as a result of my actions, I couldn’t allow myself to feel responsible. It was indeed self-defense.
The following day White’s men left a message for us stating that we should enjoy the day before they accompanied us to the airport. We knew they were watching us, but we took their advice and spent a pleasant afternoon on the beach. Later that night we were escorted to the airport and White’s men watched us as we boarded the plane.
***
Two of White’s men met us at the airport in D.C. Lance and I assumed they were armed and prepared to take action if we refused to accompany them.
One of them said, “We’re here to take you to the ALTSYS corporate headquarters. Warren Blake is already waiting for you.”
Neither of them spoke afterward. They dropped us off at ALTSYS where we found Mr. Blake sitting in the main lobby. He wore an impeccable navy blue pinstriped suit with a chartreuse silk handkerchief tucked in his coat pocket. His closely cropped grey hair and violet rimmed designer glasses were fashionable. He stood the moment he saw me enter through the door, and quickly walked towards me.
“Ms. Adams, it is a pleasure to meet you,” he said smoothly.
He only shook my hand after I offered it to him- a man of old fashioned manners. “Hello.”
“I take it you were already briefed by my client about what we’ll be doing here today.”
“Yes, he said there’d be papers for me to sign.”
“Correct.” He looked around and asked, “Is there somewhere private we can go?”
I also looked around the vast lobby. Six elevators stared back at me. The building was at least twenty stories high and I had never once stepped foot inside of it until today. “Forgive me, Mr. Blake, but I have no idea where anything is.”
“Ah, yes, of course. Mr. White mentioned that you were quite unaware of your ex-husband’s transference of company shares. Wait right here a moment.”
Mr. Blake picked up his briefcase and walked to a polished mahogany desk along the far wall where three attendants were ready to welcome and help guests. Several security guards watched us closely.
“I wonder if the stockholders know yet,” Lance said.
“I hope not. They may want to skin me alive if they see me in here.”
Mr. Blake walked towards us with a slight smile on his face. “I was directed to the top floor where your ex-husband’s office is located.”
I cringed inwardly. “Won’t it be locked?”
“I was told it was opened by the authorities when he was taken into custody.”
We took the elevator to the top floor. People stared at us as we walked through a wide corridor. One woman narrowed her eyes at me in recognition and I pretended not to notice. Predictably, Michael’s office was at the end and took up a large chunk of the entire floor. A large glass and metal desk was in the center of the room and several chairs and sofas were scattered about, along with a bar area (complete with stainless steel sink and refrigerator). Several modern sculptures and artwork were also on display. The view from the windows was impressive. Mr. Blake indicated the red leather swivel chair behind the desk and I sat down. It felt awkward.
The woman who had eyed me in the corridor now stood in the doorway. “Mrs. Adams?” she asked, surprised.
Mr. Blake and Lance turned to look at her, but neither man said a word.
“That’s Ms. Adams,” I replied.
She stepped into the room. “May I ask what you’re doing here?”
“And who are you?” I retorted boldly.
She crossed her arms and took a defensive stance. “I’m Roxanne Tate, Mr. Adams’s personal secretary.”
I would have imagined my ex-husband’s secretary as a voluptuous blonde and not a sour faced, middle-aged woman with unnatural black hair and no makeup.
“Ms. Adams and I will be conducting a bit of business and some privacy would be appreciated,” Mr. Blake replied on my behalf. “Oh, and since you were Mr. Adams secretary, would you mind pulling up the company’s profits for the last quarter? Ms. Adams would like to review them as well.”
“And you are?” Roxanne asked with almost a snarl.
“Warren Blake, my law firm specializes in corporate and international law,” he replied with a charming smile. “There are important matters to be dealt with in your former employer’s absence, so if you’ll please cooperate with us it would be greatly appreciated.”
Roxanne’s face paled. She nodded and left the room, glancing at me over her shoulder.
“Why do you need to know the profits for last quarter?” I asked.
Mr. Blake shook his head and chuckled. “I don’t, but by requesting it I have undoubtedly stirred a bit of panic in Roxanne.” When I looked at him askance he added, “IRS, audits and all sorts of unpleasantness come to mind when an attorney requests to see a financial report.”
“Oh.”
“Now let’s get down to business, shall we?”
Mr. Blake pulled out a tablet along with a small device that scanned and stored the fingerprints of my right hand. In order to agree to what the documents stated, all I had to do was press the five fingers of my right hand to the screen and that would be my legal signature. I braced myself for hours of legal jargon I wouldn’t understand, but instead he explained each document in layman’s terms. I agreed to everything, pressing my fingertips several times against the screen until the deed was done. As the new head of ALTSYS, I had legally cancelled the clean energy plan with the UAN.
When we were finished, Mr. Blake put away the tablet and handed me an envelope. “Mr. White instructed me to give you this. I advise you take advantage of his generosity, but of course it is ultimately up to you.” He stood and bowed. “I bid you good day, Ms. Adams, Mr. Adams.”
And without further ado, Mr. Blake left the office to see his own way out. As I stared after him, I realized that Roxanne had never returned with the report he had requested. I wondered if she suspected what was going on.
Lance broke my reverie. “Aren’t you going to open it?”
I looked down at the envelope in my hands. Inside was a typed letter on what appeared to be parchment paper. How archaic.
“Dear Ms. Adams,” I read aloud. “I bet you are now wondering what your next move should be. May I suggest that you and Mr. Adams lay low for awhile until this nasty business blows over? My estate in Texas has a large guest house and it is currently not in use. You are welcome to remain there as my guests. You will be surrounded by more security than you can imagine. My private jet will fetch you at the airport within two hours of calling the following number…”
I looked up at Lance, who shrugged. “White did say he was a southern gentleman. I suppose he feels responsible for your safety now that you’ve fully cooperated with him.” He stood and looked at the doorway. “We don’t have much time before Blake puts those documents into effect. We should get out of here.”
I followed him out the door and down the corridor. We were just about to press the elevator button when we heard footsteps running towards us. Four burly security guards with scowls on their faces were headed our way. Roxanne was standing in the center of the corridor with arms crossed and an angry expression on her face.
“The stairs,” Lance said, pulling me away from the elevators.
We pushed open the emergency exit door and descended the stairs two at a time. A moment later the door banged open and several feet pounded down the steps after us. Lance guided me down a few more flights before opening t
he door and urging me forward. We were on a floor full of cubicles containing busy workers. Many people looked up as we ran along the main wall. When the security guards opened the door we ducked into one of the cubicles.
A young man (probably an intern) stared at us wide-eyed as he chewed on a wad of gum. When he rose from his seat to see over the edge of the cubicle, I thought he was going to betray us. I felt Lance’s hand tighten on my arm and we shared a nervous glance. To our relief, the young man stood up, called out to the security team and pointed in the opposite direction. We heard the sound of the men’s footsteps diminishing.
The young man smiled slyly as he sat down. “Coast is clear,” he whispered. At the sight of our surprised faces, he added, “Fuck ALTSYS and fuck Michael Adams, that phony prick…I hope you’ve done something terrible.”
“I have,” I assured.
The radical young man nodded as though satisfied. “Good.”
We left the cubicle, crawled back to the door and quietly slipped through. We descended the stairs and casually walked onto another floor, summoned the elevator and went down to the lobby. Quickly, we walked out of the building unscathed. Lance took hold of my hand as we crossed the street and ducked into an alley that led to a parallel street.
“They already know,” I said.
“Yes, they do.”
“What should we do now?”
Lance let out a deep breath. “Michael will be furious.”
We turned right when we emerged from the alley and he hailed a cab.
“Do you think we’ll be safe in D.C.?” I asked before sliding into the backseat.
“After the incident in Tahiti I think staying here is just as safe as skipping town,” he replied, sliding in next to me.
“I’m tired of running.”
Lance gave the driver our address and then turned to me. “So am I, sweetheart.”
When we were inside the condo, I put the kettle on to make tea. Our minds were recapping recent events and trying to make sense of everything. We were quietly pensive as we sat at the kitchen table drinking hot tea, so it was no wonder that I jumped when the doorbell rang.
