Valentine's Vengeance

by Michele De Winton

  Taking the fall for her mother back then was ancient history. If Joe and Mex Industries had beaten out Brooks in this latest deal, then Joe was obviously fine. No harm done. And like her mom said, she’d probably never see him in her day to day job at Kings now. It wasn’t like the CEO of an International company was going to come and visit every department in the tiny little subsidiary he’d absorbed.

  At her desk the next day, the hope that things would be fine started cracking. The office was a buzz with the news of the take-over, as Mr Tsiolkas had only told senior staff about the sale of the Kings brands. “We’re going to stay right?” Cara’s junior quizzed her as soon as she walked in the door. “I mean we’ve only just got the new branding into the public eye and Valentine’s is...” she checked her watch, “six days away. If he dismantles our department he’ll be left starting from scratch. That’s not good business practice, and he’s obviously a man for good business practice. So we’ll be fine. Right? Right?”

  If the topic hadn’t involved Joe Diaz, Cara would have laughed. But as it was, she steered Olivia back to her desk and buried her under a pile of work.

  King Kondoms was the brain child of Geronimo Tsiolkas. The man who had taken Cara in at Kings a year and a half ago when she’d felt defeated by the world, and had encouraged her to build it into a brand that consumers were really starting to respond to. A big family man, Tsiolkas had changed his business model so that King Kondom’s were cruelty free and it was now one of the biggest selling vegan condom brands worldwide. The condom range wasn’t the biggest seller in King Company portfolio, but it had the highest public profile, one that Cara had built up carefully from scratch.

  It wasn’t lost on Cara that as the father of ten kids, Geronimo hadn’t exactly been a big proponent of prophylactics and she’d nicknamed him The No-King King, a title he’d adopted happily with his staff. But the cruelty free promise was something she had been able to throw her heart into and she was proud of what they’d made happen. Joe Diaz was not going to come in and destroy what so many people had worked so hard to create.

  Still, it didn’t stop her heart hammering out a staccato beat when she opened an email, titled, New Staff Procedures - Mex Industries Handover. His signature was at the bottom, a digital swirl of letters that revealed as much about his mood as the words in the memo. Joe Diaz was scrawled halfway across the page, and Cara wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that he’d etched his name into his tablet when he’d done it. Sharp and angry, his signature promised he wasn’t about to be messed with and the contents of the memo said the same. There would be no redundancies, yet, but all departments should prepare for an audit of their functionality and to justify their budgets, ASAP. “Just what I need with the Valentine’s promotion about to hit,” she muttered to herself.

  “What don’t you need?” Olivia had sharper hearing than a rabbit avoiding a bloodhound and was over at Cara’s desk before she’d finished her exhale.

  Cara flicked through her email and found something to distract Olivia from her thoughts of imminent doom. “The dove guy in Florida says his doves have come down with some sort of bird flu. We’re going to need to source more birds for the petting zoo in the Cupid Grove down there and we’re going to need to do it fast. You know how hard it was finding someone who the Vegan society would give a tick to last time.”

  “I’m on it,” Olivia said and raced back to her desk. “Can’t have Valentine’s without doves and chocolate right?” Olivia seemed to only have two speeds, turbo and off, but at the moment, that was exactly what Cara needed. She’d set up Cupid Groves with animals and candy and general romantic gestures in all the major centers around the country. She was sure it was the right approach and Mr Tsiolkas had been all for it. It reinforced their cruelty free status and brought home the love for all message they’d worked hard on. But it was pretty out of the box for a condom brand and if Joe Diaz decided to get involved… No, she reassured herself. She was good at her job and if anyone decided to query her, she was ready. Mex Industries might have taken over, but Joe Diaz wasn’t about to take her down, not without a fight. Not this time.

  2.

  Joe Diaz looked out over the Austin city scape and wondered for at least the tenth time that morning what the hell he’d been thinking throwing everything in a suitcase and moving out here for the take-over. Really? Because you were so busy with social engagements back home? True. If he’d had to have his life motto tattooed on his skin, Live to Work would have fit neatly on his bicep in the same way Live to Ride was written large on every biker he’d ever seen.

  Not far from the Hyatt hotel, the headquarters of his new acquisition had an amazing view over Lady Bird Lake and as dusk was falling, he watched the tail lights of the cars pouring over the bridge merge into a steady trickle of light. Joe let himself exhale and smile at the sight. This was a good idea. Get away from New York. Get something really exciting happening here while he built up the rest of Mex Industries. He lent back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head, drinking in the sight.

  He’d been so focused on taking down Brook Pharma in this deal that he’d poured all his attention into making the deal happen, rather than thinking about what next. It wasn’t like him. But now that he was here, he was damn well going to enjoy it.

  He stood and stretched out his neck. The King’s take-over was a good move financially. A great one. Anything else that came with it was a bonus. He chuckled, hardly, watching Anna Brooks face drop was worth at least five million bucks.

  “Excuse me sir?” Startled from his thoughts, Joe turned to see Richard, ostensibly his head of security, but in reality the man he relied on to double check the day to day goings on in all his companies, off the record.

  “I’m hoping that’s a bottle of champagne you have behind your back and not a folder of bad news.”

  “I’m not a fan of bubbly wine, sir.”

  “Shit. I’d settle for a beer?”

  “On a scale of straight whiskey to champagne, I’m afraid this is more on the hard spirits end of the scale sir. Not a full folder of bad news, but definitely not a champagne day. Not that you drink anyway. Sir.”

  Joe checked Richard but there wasn’t even the slightest wrinkle of emotion on his face. The Englishman somehow managed to merge into every workplace environment without a ripple, and despite having never seen him crack a smile, Joe knew humor was the guy’s secret weapon in gaining trust. Despite his accent, or maybe because of it, no one guessed that he was working for the man upstairs, and the guy got information that no team of forensic accountants had ever managed to discover. “So, it’s bad news. Let me have it.”

  “It’s about King Kondoms.”

  “Of all the things I thought I’d buy, I have to admit a condom company was not at the top of my list. And vegan condoms, really? The things people care about now. It’s not like they have meat in them.”

  “Not at time of purchase I guess sir.”

  Joe snorted but Richard’s face didn’t move. God but the man would be a killer poker partner. “So what’s the big deal? Please don’t tell me we have a swathe of angry pregnant women out the front.”

  “No sir. Apparently they work very well. Reliability guaranteed. It’s about the charity promotion.”

  “Right. Good. Aid not AIDS. The African thing?”

  “Indeed sir. Seems someone has decided that Africa needs more aid than we realized. Or else there’s someone out there determined to set himself up like a king. Either way, something we need to get on top of, sir.”

  Joe ran his hands over his face and flopped into a chair. “Sit. Start talking,” he gestured to the other chair in the room and pushed the button on his intercom to get his PA to take notes.

  “No sir. Best this is just between us.”

  “Sorry, false alarm. We’re all good here,” Joe said to his PA, his hackles suddenly on full alert despite Richard’s calm demeanor.

  “The boxes of King’s Kondoms are all loading. So I thoug
ht I’d swing by the depo to see what 35 million condoms looked like. It’s a lot sir. The promotion is a good one.”

  “I’m sure. Keep going.” Joe was not ready to congratulate anyone in the PR department on their promotion if there was something underhanded going on.

  “I was just lifting the boxes, you know, chatting to the guys down there about how heavy a stack of condoms are, when it seemed to me that some were heavier than others.”

  “Doesn’t seem that big a deal?”

  “Sure. I didn’t want to make a fuss, but I managed to get them off the line when it turned out a few of the boxes were being diverted for a special delivery to Chicago.”

  “Lots of Africans in Chicago all of a sudden?”

  “Not so much sir.”

  Joe rubbed his face again. “And I’m guessing I don’t want to know what might be making the boxes heavier?”

  “You most certainly don’t want to know sir. I’ve alerted the appropriate law enforcement agencies. If anyone asks, the shipment has been delayed due to a customs filing error. We’ve got a week’s grace to work out what’s going on.”

  “Jezus.”

  “Quite.”

  “So, anyone stick out as a suspect?”

  “I was about to go through the staff lists. Figured you might like to join me. There was one name that rang a bell.”

  “Sounds like you’ve already convicted them. Who is it?”

  “If I may?” Richard reached over to turn Joe’s laptop around and pulled up the staff Facebook page. Scrolling down he stopped on a pretty woman with long, dark hair that sat in a wild curly halo around her head. Hair that he’d once wound around his fingers. Skin that had seemed softer than anything he’d touched his whole life. He blinked. The odds on her being here, working for the company he’d just bought, were so small he didn’t even want to think about them. But then he read the caption underneath the photo. Cara Reynolds. The way her face collapsed when he’d confronted her flashed in his mind’s eye a moment, closely followed by the way she straightened as if wanting him to challenge her. If there was anything he knew about Cara Reynolds, it was that she was a master manipulator. And someone who wouldn’t be scared of putting everything on red on a blackjack table just for kicks. Just the type to build up an extra income project on the back of a charity run. “She works here?”

  “Head of PR and Marketing for King Kondoms. The Africa project was her baby. In fact she worked with Tsiolkas to get the condom brand up and running from the start.”

  “And now she’s cashing in. Either that or she’s been cashing in the whole time and the old coot didn’t see it.”

  “Couldn’t say sir. But we’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Why not scoop her up straight away? She’s got priors as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Not in the eyes of the law sir. Anything you had against her was circumstantial. And there will be more than one player at work. Better to scoop up the team, as you put it. Make sure it doesn’t happen again. Especially on our watch.”

  “Right. Of course. Won’t hurt for me to keep an eye on her though.”

  Richard gave him a long look. The man knew everything. Everything about Joe’s illness, about the betrayal that had cost them HoganTech, about his relationship with Cara, about the fact that it had been Cara that sold him out. But true to form, he kept his thoughts to himself.

  “If you think that will help. I’ll let you know of any new developments.”

  With that, Richard left and Joe swung his chair around and went back to looking out the window. Dusk had turned to evening while they’d talked and now the lights of the cars exiting and entering downtown where steady streams of yellow and red. The life blood of the city, Joe realized. He looked down at his arm, at the veins pumping his own blood around his body and thanked the lucky star he’d been born under again, that he’d followed chemistry instead of pure math like his teachers had wanted him to. If he hadn’t, Mex Industries would be someone else’s dream, and he wouldn’t have had the resources to pump into his pet research project. The project that had meant he had been able to spend millions finding a cure for his genetic illness, and been able to crush Brook Pharma in this take-over bid. “Anna Brooks can put that in her pipe and smoke it.” He laughed, thinking about Anna Brooks smoking a pipe. Somehow the image didn’t seem all that off the mark.

  But it was her ex-employee he had to deal with now. Cara Reynolds. Here. He laughed at the irony that he’d tried for two years to find her after she’d left his apartment that night. And now, here she was, about to go down like she should have for getting in his way last time.

  The picture of Cara Reynold’s face when he’d confronted her about selling him out swam back at him. Had she even shown remorse? He flicked back to the night five years ago and could only remember her standing tall and stern in front of him. She hadn’t even bothered to defend herself in the end. Just taken it on the chin and left. He had to admire her for that. But to sell him out so easily? He shook his head. He’d been about to give her a key to his apartment. The first person he’d ever let inside his inner sanctuary. Because for him, that’s what his home was. The place he could hide from the rest of the world. The place he could let go of the tight reins he had on himself in public, where he had to be big and bold and strong and invincible. At home he could crumple if he needed to. Crawl into bed when he had to. His illness had driven him down dark and painful corridors sometimes, but he managed because he had to if he was going to stay at the top. And Cara Reynolds had tried to take that away from him.

  He’d thought he’d found something real with her. Something a bit like family. He snorted. People assumed he loved family, given he had such a huge one back in Mexico. What they didn’t know was that he’d had to fight for his share of everything his whole life. The youngest and smartest, it was his uncle who had pushed him to apply for a US scholarship and it was his mother who had tried to talk him out of it. She wanted him to bring in an immediate income from the local factory like his brothers. He’d left anyway, and bought his mother and family a house he’d never have been able to afford if he’d just been a laborer, but still his mother resented him for leaving. Family should live, die and suffer together as far as she was concerned.

  And now, here he was. Owner of Kings. Living in Austin, Texas, back on track to see what he wanted and make sure he got it. And this time it was having Cara Reynolds right where he wanted her. For the first time since Richard had walked into his office he smiled. Seemed Richard was wrong for once. It was a champagne kind of day. At least it would be when he got to watch Cara go down. Pulling his chair to his desk he flipped open his computer again. This time she was not going to get away with it.

  Firing off an email, he arranged a meeting with Cara first thing in the morning. He was going to make her sweat a little, and then he was going to watch her fall apart. He looked at the date. Oh, this was too perfect. This Valentine’s Day, the sweetest thing he was going to get was revenge.

  3.

  Cara re-read the email for the sixteenth time. Surely she’d missed something. A meeting? Today? With him? She called over to Olivia. “Do you have any meeting requests from the new management today?”

  Olivia shook her head. “Is it from him, him? The new owner?” Someone sent me a link to his photo this morning. Holy crap, he’s hotness in a handbag.”

  “I don’t think he’s the handbag type.” Cara closed her eyes for a moment too long and Olivia pounced. “It is from him. Ooooo. I wonder if he’s as dishy in real life. What are you going to wear?”

  Cara looked down at the grey knit top and denim skirt she’d put on this morning in an attempt to be fresh and on trend and wondered what she had been thinking. “This.”

  “Really?” Olivia made a face. “I mean I get that you’re doing the hipster thing and you can totally pull it off cos you’re so tall and skinny and stuff, but, first meeting.” She looked behind her. “You can borrow my jacket. It’ll go with your skirt and you
’ll look like a power dresser. Especially if you pull your hair back.”

  Cara looked at Olivia’s navy blazer and sighed. It was just the sort of thing her mother would wear, with a bright scarf of course, which was exactly why Cara avoided wearing anything like it. But on this occasion, Olivia might just be right. She put a hand to her hair and the sigh deepened. It had started raining just as she’d got off the bus this morning and her hair hated getting wet. Or rather, it loved it. It sprang up to meet the raindrops and curled itself into a frizz of excitement. It was just that Cara was less into the frizzy mess than her hair follicles were. “It had to rain? Today?”

  “It’ll be okay. Twist it up in to a knot,” Olivia said.

  Cara checked the time and realized the meeting was in ten minutes. “Shit. Okay, give me the jacket.” Shucking it on, Cara did a twirl. “Better?” Olivia’s face told her that it wasn’t much and Cara tried to get a glimpse of her reflection in the office window. “Too bad, I am what I am, he can take it or leave it. You can bet none of the men in sales are worried about what their hair looks like.” Brave words. Braver when she knew that he held the power of her job in his hands. This was the first place where she’d felt like she fitted in since she’d got to Austin. The first place where she could see her work making a difference every single day. And after the mess of her first few years in Texas, it was the first time she’d felt like a grown up, never having to worry about where her next paycheck might come from.

  But losing this job wouldn’t only mean losing her paycheck, it would mean losing her apartment, and losing her ability to look after Muttly and Boris. Her mom might be a squillionaire, but when she’d left Brooks Pharma and joined a protest against their policy of animal testing, Cara had left behind her ability to ask her mom for a hand out. Not to mention that her mom was allergic to the mess dogs made.