“Yes, Don, I did get the note, and I’m not sure of what to do.”
He came from around the desk and took a seat near Naledi. “Remember when I told you that my mother and Abigail want me to run DMI?”
“Of course I do,” she said with her eyebrows raised. “But you came back because it did not work as you planned.”
“Right, right,” he said, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. “But I still have to go back, probably soon.”
“In six months, yes?” she said, with each word tastefully seasoned by her accent—not annoying or untranslatable, rather soothing and mesmerizing.
“Probably sooner.” Her eyelids widened. He detected her confusion. Touching her hand for reassurance was acceptable between them. Many dinner dates and walks along the harbor made it so. They hadn’t gone beyond lighthearted courtship labeled as friendship, which helped eliminate awkwardness in the office. “I may need to go back as early as next week.”
“I don’t understand.”
“There’s an opportunity for me to expand LTI into the U.S. with clients that I’ve worked with in the past, but I have to act quickly.”
“Is this important to you?”
He clasped his hands together and locked his gaze with hers. “Yes, I believe so.”
“Then how can I help you?”
As simple as that; he voiced a desire and she was on board without opposition. She was the puzzle piece that enabled him to make South Africa home. He couldn’t wipe away the dormant fretting associated with claiming the CEO role, but he was doing his best to let the details manifest. Naledi’s grace for him helped smooth the rough edges internally. At this critical junction in his life, she was the only one on earth who could do what he needed.
“I’ll be doing a great deal of traveling over the next couple of months, but I can’t let LTI suffer in my absence. We’ve worked too hard and accomplished too much to put this company at risk. That’s where I need you. I will feel comfortable if you’re running the company for me while I’m shuffling back and forth. You’re the only way that I can make this work.” Naledi fidgeted in her seat, trying to speak, but only utterances came forward. He had only touched her hand temporarily at the onset of the conversation and found himself touching it again, hoping that he was providing reassurance. “I know you can do this. I’ve worked with you for nearly two years. I know what you’re capable of doing. You can do this.”
“I’m not sure that I can be in charge of this place alone.”
He followed her wandering gaze with his, refusing to stop the search until his gaze was locked with hers. “You won’t be alone. I may not physically be in this office, but you will have access to me any time. I promise you that you will not be alone.”
Her disposition seemed to mellow. He continued with the reassurance. “I’ll hire or promote any other resources that you need to feel comfortable.” He felt her pulse slowing in the grip he had on her hand. “Besides, we’re only talking about a few months at first. We’ll work on the longer-term plan later.” The radiance of her face was returning. “What do you say?”
“I will do it for you. I will do my best.”
“Thank you,” he said, standing. She stood, too. He shook her hand, deliberate and balanced with affection. She gave a slight bow in return. He yearned to share his passion with her and cast away any doubt, but opted to maintain a small semblance of professionalism. Time and purpose would take care of the rest between them. “Oh, I forgot,” he said, slapping the heel of his palm on his forehead. “I’m giving you a raise.”
“No, Don, that is not necessary. No, I am very pleased to do the work for you for no more money. I am quite satisfied with my salary.”
Don raised his hand like a stop sign. “No argument, I’m doubling your salary. I honestly don’t know how long you’ll be in the role, but you’ll keep the raise, no matter what.”
“Please, no, Don.”
“It’s done.” He faced her and said with sincerity from the depth of his existence, “I am grateful to have you working with me. You are so important to this company and to me.” He extended his hand to her and when their fingers met their connection was solidified.
chapter
23
Rejection and compassion dueled in Abigail’s soul. As one gained a slight edge in the battle, the other tussled more vehemently for control. Back and forth, constantly, until Abigail couldn’t bear the torment any longer. She sprang to her feet, eager to reach Joel’s office before rejection landed a final blow. “Is he in a meeting?” she asked his assistant with her hand on the doorknob but not quite ready to burst into the office improperly. Respect had its place, despite her mood.
“No, he’s in there alone.”
Before the assistant could formulate her next statement, Abigail opened the door, drawing a reaction from the assistant. Abigail had to burst in while her remaining shred of compassion for Joel existed. It was rapidly fading. Opening the door appeared to have startled Joel.
“Good, you are here,” she said. He nodded without speaking. There had never been a time where the wall of tension was so high that she couldn’t reach him. His silence hurt but she believed, wanted to believe, that the wall was only at knee level. With some minor effort she could step over their disagreement and erase the distance between them. She had to try. “You’ve been hard to find these days.”
“I didn’t know you were looking for me,” he said, looking up briefly before dropping his gaze to the laptop situated on his desk.
She didn’t know whether to sit or stand or what. Finally she approached the desk and eased into the seat closest to his desk but seemingly miles away. “I don’t usually have to look for you. You’re usually just there.”
He shot a cutting glance at her and let it quickly break away. “I could say the same thing,” he said, closing the laptop and peering at her, this time without looking away.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe, but I’m not really okay with that.” She was starting to relax. After all, Joel wasn’t a stranger, not really. She might not recognize his recent actions or agree with his motives, but Abigail knew that Joel had a good heart. He was worth her effort. “We’re friends, have been for years. Is this the end of that?”
Joel reared back in his chair. “You tell me. You’re the one who changed the rules between us.”
“What do you mean? I’ve been the same.”
“Humph,” he responded.
“I have. You know I have.”
“Come on, Abigail, get real. At the time when I needed you the most, you abandoned me to side with Don and Madeline, of all people. You might as well drive a knife into my spine. The effect wouldn’t be as harsh.” He took a quick peek at the buzzing PDA on his desk.
“Aren’t you going to get that?”
“I’ll get back to her.”
“Who is her?”
Joel raised his gaze. “Colleague.”
In a hot second she was catapulted back to the days when Joel kept an active list of female companions, but they were set aside when he got serious about wanting to be the best that he could be. “That’s what you’re calling them nowadays.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t matter to you.”
“Correct.”
“Abigail, Abigail, when are we going to quit playing this game? You know we have a bond. Have and always will. Why try to fool yourself into believing otherwise?” he said, leaning closer to the desk, shortening the distance.
Perhaps he was right, but there wasn’t much she could say except “You’re engaged. That doesn’t leave much bonding for us.”
“Nothing has or will change between us. Why can’t you understand that?”
“Why can’t you understand that marriage is supposed to change you?”
“Not this kind.”
“What am I supposed to be? Your friend? Your colleague?” she said, letting her words bite.
“Why does what we are require a label? What we’ve
always been, we can still be. That doesn’t have to change. I don’t want it to change.” He came around the desk and reached for her hand. She didn’t respond.
“I’ve been with you from the beginning, pretty much from the moment Dave appointed you CEO. I’ve poured my time and energy into DMI and into you,” she said.
“I didn’t realize you considered our time together to be such a burden,” Joel said and walked away.
“Stop it, Joel,” she said, scooting to the edge of the seat, determined to keep focused on work and not their label-less relationship. He wasn’t going to stir up her affection, leaving her distracted. “You know what I mean. I’ve been loyal to you, but you can’t expect me to support something I don’t agree with.”
“Here we go with this conversation again,” he said, letting his hands fly into the air. “We’ve already been down this path. I don’t have time to rehash this.” He looked away.
“So that’s it, there’s no middle ground—either I agree with you or we have no friendship?”
“You tell me, Abigail, what do you expect me to do? I need you and you’re not there for me—bottom line.” She couldn’t think of anything to say that hadn’t already been said. “Everything we’ve done in the past won’t matter for DMI if I don’t complete this next deal. This is my only priority. I can’t let any other distractions, issues . . . or personal feelings cause me to lose sight of my mission. My father told me that there were decisions to be made that I’d have to make alone. I guess that time has come.”
“You’re being alone is by choice,” she said, gaining strength to say what had to be said. Joel was in trouble whether he knew it or not. She was willing to forgo pride and reach out to him. She stood and leaned on the desk. “Let’s regroup. Let’s do what we used to do,” she said, feeling invigorated, hopeful for the first time since the conversation started. “We can go to church on Sunday. Maybe we can visit Greater Faith Chapel with Mother Walker, remember the lady they called Big Mama, the one who gave you a prophetic word?” Much of what Big Mama had said in the past hadn’t pleased Joel and his aspirations, especially the part about him being deceived and lured away from God. The old lady knew only one way, God’s way. Joel didn’t like the conviction of her words, but Abigail knew he respected the church mother. “Remember, you really liked her.”
Joel cut Abigail off. “I don’t have time to run to church every Sunday. Contrary to popular belief, I am the CEO, which means that I’m trying to run a company, with very little help, I might add.”
Abigail’s hope plummeted. There wasn’t anything else to say. She retreated from the room in total silence.
chapter
24
Going around in circles wasn’t familiar to Joel. He was motivated by directness and action. When he spoke, people moved to carry out his request. Why couldn’t the company recognize that he knew what he was doing? He wasn’t some random aloof guy making whacked out decisions without merit. He was Joel Mitchell, one of the primary heirs to the Mitchell dynasty. He was the one out of a long line of contenders who was left holding the keys to the chief executive office. He was the chosen one. Not Don and definitely not Madeline. Joel grabbed the phone from his desk. He scrolled past the missed calls from Samantha Tate without a second of consideration. The nostalgic moment deposited a sufficient boost of energy in his weary bones. Two rings and bypassing the receptionist got him where he wanted to be, on the line with his personal banker.
“Mr. Mitchell, I’ve been expecting your call. How can we assist you today?”
Joel didn’t have the entire cash outlay situation figured out, but getting what he could from the bank was a huge help. He’d secure funds from the credit line and worry about the rest next. “I’m ready to complete the merger that we discussed previously. I’ll need the entire credit line limit, and I’d like to discuss other options for securing the rest of the money that we need.”
The banker didn’t hesitate. “Based on the account hold, the only funds available to you are through the credit line, which can be accessed solely on your executive order. Other funding would require a new evaluation of DMI assets and approvals from two members of the executive team, as we’ve discussed.”
Joel was clear about the other signatures stemming from the board’s attempt to hold up the merger, but the evaluation was a surprise. “Why do you need to find out the worth? You have the most current value.”
“Mr. Mitchell, there has been a perceived change in your company’s value.”
There was no way Madeline had gone this far with her cancerous lies. DMI hadn’t shown growth last quarter, but the ten quarters prior would surely offset the dip. He wasn’t going to be discounted, not when he was so close to realizing his dream on an international scale. “DMI is solid. You have balance sheets for nearly three years. I don’t see the problem. Either you want our business or you don’t.”
“Absolutely we want your business. We’ve been working with you, or should I say the company, for more than thirty years. We value you as a key client.”
“Then why are you giving me such a hard time when I’m trying to throw a significant chunk of business your way?”
“Well, the problem is that for the first time since the line of credit was established, the perceived DMI value has dropped sizably. As a result, the collateral has weakened and the eligible credit line is reduced to fifty million.”
“You can’t be serious. That’s not nearly enough.”
“Mr. Mitchell, I really am sorry. I wish there was some way to meet your business needs, but my hands are tied. I can’t extend additional credit to you without a dramatic increase in the company’s value. When you factor in the hold limiting your access to funds, we’re left with a single source.”
“Since we’re at an impasse, we can consider this discussion to be over,” Joel said, bitter.
“What about the fifty million? Should I wire that to an account?”
Joel hesitated. Fifty million was fifty million less that he had to scramble and find. On the other hand, his pride was worth more, at least another two hundred million more. “No, we prefer to do business with an institution that values a long-term relationship.”
“Mr. Mitchell, I’m sorry you feel that way. Your business has been and continues to be very significant to us. I’m sure this is a temporary situation and will be resolved very quickly and we can continue our partnership.”
“I don’t think so.” The banker tried wedging a pathetic line of empty rhetoric before Joel cut him off. “Have a good day,” Joel concluded and ended the call. He held the receiver for a while until the dial tone hummed. The fury burned within. Nobody said no to Joel Mitchell, no one of significance, except Abigail. The bank was merely an inconvenience, not a showstopper. Abigail was a whole different perspective. Joel and Abigail shared a sense of purpose, vision, a desire to achieve what others hadn’t. She was the fuel in his engine, vital yet subdued in the background. Having Abigail flip her loyalty was troubling, but not permanent. He brushed away the glaring reminder and put full force toward securing the funds.
An hour passed, and then another. Joel paced the room when he wasn’t sitting at the desk scratching out financial scenarios. One from Sheba, one from DMI treasury, and two from borrowing against his personal assets only totaled four hundred million no matter how many ways he calculated. Balled up sheets of paper surrounded the trash can near his desk. There had to be an answer. If only he could pray for guidance. It was the one option he hadn’t tried. Honestly, he wasn’t prepared to hear “no” or, worse, hear nothing. He continued racking his brain for the additional money.
Although he’d privately solicited spiritual advice on a couple of occasions, Joel didn’t feel compelled to do so again. He wasn’t convinced they knew any more about the future than he did. He was about to take a break when Uncle Frank dropped into his mind. The rumors were plentiful about Uncle Frank and his shady dealings with those who didn’t trade on Wall Street. Joel hadn’t cared
if the rumors were true in the past. It wasn’t like his father’s brother was a close family member. Uncle Frank was just a man with the same last name as his. Until now, the less contact Uncle Frank made the better.
Joel dug through his private papers in search of a number. He almost called his assistant and asked her to get it, but thought it best not to let anyone know he was talking with Uncle Frank. His uncle was bad news. He knew it and anyone else in the company would know it, too, if the word got out. Instead, Joel dug further through old financial documents until he found a number handwritten on top of a four-year-old income statement. Confident in his decision to pursue Harmonious Energy, Joel was content pursuing nontraditional loans. Besides, there would be an abundance of cash coming his way once the deal with Musar was final. The plan was to pay off the loan immediately, without anyone else knowing about the source.
Joel snatched one of the balled-up pieces off the floor, took several steps back, pretended to dribble the ball around his back, shot it into the trash can, and landed the awkward shot. His goal was finally within reach.
chapter
25
Joel didn’t pay attention to the dialogue springing from his conscience. If he had, his Lamborghini wouldn’t be sitting in the parking lot of an obscure diner sixty miles from Detroit. He was amused, thinking about his situation, not quite sure how he ended up in it. The same scenario acted out by anyone else would be perceived as desperate, but Joel and desperation were total opposites, never to exist in the same sentence. He killed the purring engine and peered around the tiny parking lot, looking for his uncle. Joel tapped the leather-bound wheel, wanting to fast forward through this creative financing meeting. His head swiveled every time a car passed. He checked his watch five times, beginning to wonder if Uncle Frank had duped him, when the Mercedes two-seater swung into the parking lot and whipped into the slot next to him. Joel gripped the handle to open the door and go into the diner with his uncle. Before the driver-side door could extend open, Uncle Frank was sitting in the passenger seat.
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