by Andrea Kane
“So there could be resentment there, as well,” Simone pointed out.
“I have no idea.”
A terse answer, she noted. And an interesting one. Nano was a tight corporate family. Ethan had provided a good read of both Blockman and Malcolm. And yet he had zero read on June Morris? That was odd. Simone had found June to be nervous and tightly wired, something she was sure Ethan would mention. Yet he said nothing.
Simone tucked away that factoid to probe later.
“Ethan, I see from your profile that you are fluent in Mandarin. That’s fascinating. Tell me more about it.”
“I always had a knack with languages—foreign and computer,” Ethan replied. “At Berkeley, I decided to try my hand at Chinese. What I didn’t know is that I’d be the only nonnative speaker in the class. The rest of them must have taken the class for an easy A to boost their GPAs. As for me, I worked unbelievably hard for a B. But I loved it and continued for two years.” A grin. “I guess I was a glutton for punishment.”
Simone smiled back. “And have you ever traveled to China to put that linguistic skill to good use?”
“Not yet,” Ethan said ruefully. “It’s on my bucket list.”
“You’re a little young for a bucket list,” Simone said with a chuckle.
Ethan nodded, his grin widening. “Okay then, my want-to-do list. As soon as I save up enough money and vacation time.”
Simone chewed that one over. Vacation time? Maybe. Money? Now that was an interesting topic. Ethan made a low six-figure salary. Very nice. But not enough to pay for his choice of “toys,” particularly his lavish car. The Porsche 911 Turbo S Cabriolet had a ticket price of well over two hundred thousand dollars. Definitely out of Ethan’s price range—unless he was up to his neck in debt or getting income from an outside source.
“I’m sure that amazing convertible I saw you drive in with must suck up a lot of your discretionary funds,” she said lightly. “It’s a beauty.”
A red flush crept up Ethan’s neck. “Yeah, she’s my baby,” he replied uneasily. “I went way out on a limb when I bought her. The monthly lease payments eat up a good chunk of my salary. That’s why trips to the Far East will have to wait.”
“I understand.” Simone wasn’t going to push it. If she did, he’d become suspicious. She knew he was bothered by her question. That was good enough for now.
Time to wrap things up. She’d gotten everything she needed out of this interview. “So, is there anything else you think I should know that would assist me in helping Vance improve your department?” she asked calmly.
Ethan looked like a man whose prison sentence had just been reduced. “I think we’ve covered everything,” he said, already half out of his seat.
“Good.” Simone handed him her card. “I’ll be at Nano all week. If you think of anything else, please let me know. You’re an invaluable member of Vance’s team.”
Ethan rose, pausing only to pocket her card and collect his messenger bag. His grip on the handles was tight and he didn’t take the time to swing the strap over his shoulder. “Of course. Anything I can do.”
Probably not anything, Simone thought as she watched him leave the room. Not only had he been thrown by her more in-depth questions, he also hadn’t exactly oozed enthusiasm at her request to contact her. Nor had he responded in kind, offering Simone a welcome mat to keep the lines of communication open.
Loyalty to Vance aside, there was more going on with Ethan Gallagher. She just had to sort things out and figure out what.
But for now, it was time to move on to Zoe Pearson.
Ariel’s Grotto, Disneyland
27 February
Tuesday, 2:55 p.m. local time
Aidan grinned, watching the wide-eyed, mesmerized look on Abby’s face as she took in the wonders of Ariel’s Grotto, which was indeed an under-the-sea extravaganza. The restaurant was drenched in deep ocean-blue colors, complimented by hanging lanterns and pillars entwined with greenery. There was a full wall mural that was straight from the screen of The Little Mermaid, and—most magical of all to Abby—there was the smiling young redheaded woman who was playing the part of Ariel, dressed in an exquisite, authentic mermaid costume and seated on her scalloped throne.
“Daddy, you promised that we could take a picture with Ariel,” Abby reminded him, her mouth full of her Whozits and Whatzits Nuggetz. “There are already people in line.”
“So I see,” Aidan replied, taking a bite of his lobster salad. He’d better eat up. Abby had an agenda, and savoring lobster wasn’t part of it.
He scanned the room in a quick assessment. “People are getting dessert, so the line is thinning out. I’d say you have just enough time to clean your plate before it’s your turn.”
That made Abby twist around to look up at her father, disappointment etched all over her precious face. “My turn? Aren’t you going with me? I want both of us to be in the picture.”
Aidan’s bite of salad went down in a gulp. This one he hadn’t expected. But knowing Abby, shouldn’t he have?
“Don’t you want it to be just you ladies?” he tried, knowing, even as he watched Abby give a vehement shake of her head, that he’d soon be sitting on a shell, posed beside Abby and a mermaid, also knowing that he’d never live down his brother’s and his team’s reaction when Abby flourished this photo before everyone’s eyes.
“Please, Daddy?”
Two words. That’s all it took.
“Okay, Princess Abby.” He tousled her hair, which Emma had arranged for the occasion, but which had been wind-blown during her ride on the carousel. “I’ll go up with you.”
“Yay!”
Abby bolted through the rest of her food and was more than ready when the last child was finishing up. “C’mon, Daddy.” She dragged Aidan up to the smiling mermaid and said, “Hi, Ariel. I’m Abby. My daddy wants to be in the picture, too.” She turned to gaze up at Aidan. “Say hi to Ariel, Daddy,” she instructed him in that parental tone that made Aidan wonder if they’d reversed roles.
“Hello, Ariel,” he replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Aidan caught the understanding glimpse in the mermaid’s eyes. “Lovely to meet you, too.” She wriggled her tail and scooted over a bit so that both Abby and Aidan could join her on her scalloped throne.
The photos and the visit were a rousing success.
The aftermath? Not so much. Even as they left Ariel’s Grotto, Abby was already urging him to text a copy of the picture to her Uncle Marc.
Aidan had finally relented, and he and Abby were heading back to the hotel when the secure cell phone that connected Aidan to Vance Pennington rang.
“Give me one sec, sweetheart.” Aidan gripped Abby’s hand tightly in his as he reached for the phone.
“Okay, Daddy.” Abby was sucking on a rainbow lollipop that was bigger than she was. “But just one.”
“Promise.” Aidan glanced down at his phone, frowning when he saw the number. It wasn’t Vance. It was Susan.
“Yes,” he answered.
“There’s someone watching me, Aidan,” she blurted out. “A man. He vanishes every time I look, but I’ve spotted him more than once and I know he’s there. I’m petrified. What if they figured out that Vance isn’t following their instructions?”
“That’s not the case.” Aidan kept his voice low and his words few. “Can you describe him?”
“He’s Asian. Medium height and build. That’s about all I can say. He disappears as soon as I turn in his direction, and I don’t want him to suspect I see him so I look away quickly. But I’m not imagining things,” she rushed on.
“I know you’re not. But this scenario isn’t new. A visual has been in place from the start.”
“When will you be here?” Susan sounded as if she’d barely heard him. She was coming unglued—the last thing Aidan needed right now. He couldn’t calm her down when he was standing in the middle of Disneyland with his all-too-curious daughter, who was already tugging at hi
s hand.
“Vance is on the ski slopes with the kids,” Susan raced on hysterically. “But I couldn’t go. I just couldn’t. I keep pressing Vance for details, but he only gives me the bare-bones facts. What specialized computer is he talking about? What if he can’t use it? What if he says the wrong thing and they kill Lauren?”
“He can, and they won’t. You have my word.”
Mentally, Aidan moved up his flight time and canceled the drink he was going to have with Simone. He’d fly straight from Disney to Reno without making a stop at his hotel in Silicon Valley. Thank heavens he’d enjoyed his planned afternoon with Abby before Susan’s meltdown.
“Hang out in your hotel room,” he instructed her, knowing it was the only safe place for her when she was losing it like this. “Have a glass of wine. I’ll move up my schedule and be there to meet with you in a few hours.”
14
NanoUSA
27 February
Tuesday, 3:30 p.m. local time
For the second time that day, Simone was escorted through the CEO’s inner sanctum—this time to Zoe Pearson’s office.
Zoe’s door was ajar, an open invitation that she was expecting Simone. Still, she held up one finger as Simone entered the room and shut the door behind her. Zoe gestured at her phone, which was pressed to her ear, and mouthed the words: “Just finishing up.”
Simone nodded, glancing around the office that, although smaller than Maxwell’s, was decorated in a similar contemporary style and emanated class and style. The main difference was that Zoe’s office was all business, with no personal touches at all—no family photos, no special knickknacks, only a few tasteful but impersonal pieces of Chinese objets d’art on her desk and hand-painted landscapes of rural China on the walls. An intriguing—or coincidental—choice of countries; China seemed to be very popular today. Alongside the paintings was a gold plaque announcing Zoe’s fifteen-year anniversary at NanoUSA.
That told Simone not only the obvious—that family wasn’t a key factor in Zoe’s life—but that Zoe was a woman who was determined to be taken seriously. She’d made a visible decision not to water down her image by giving away anything personal about herself, including hobbies or outside interests. Nothing to display a softer side. It wasn’t merely a classic show of a strong, cultured woman playing in a man’s world—a battle Simone knew only too well. It was a definitive statement that Zoe was all Nano and nothing but.
Simone took a seat in one of the leather chairs across from Zoe’s desk, using the opportunity to subtly assess Robert Maxwell’s PA herself and noting the details that no dossier could provide.
Zoe Pearson was more attractive and put-together than she was pretty. She looked younger than her mid-forties, partially because she was so petite. She overcame that with an air of utter confidence—a combination Simone was all too familiar with, since she herself was “small but mighty.” Zoe’s straight, black, shoulder-length hair was fashionably cut and styled and her makeup was perfectly applied and expensive, as was her Hugo Boss heather-gray sheath dress and jacket. She was tan and toned, a clear sign that she visited the company gym on a regular basis, probably daily. Her dark brown eyes were sharp and intelligent, and her voice as she wrapped up her business call rang with authority.
A formidable businesswoman and an ostensibly loyal Nano employee.
In the final seconds before Zoe disconnected the call, Simone made a quick jewelry scan. Not that there was much to see. Zoe wore only a single silver pendant around her neck, although that pendant did scream money. No wedding band. And no tan line that might indicate a one-time presence of a discarded wedding band.
Unmarried to a man. Married to a job. Much like the dossier had suggested.
Zoe put down her phone and rose, reaching across the desk to shake Simone’s hand. “Ms. Martin,” she greeted her. “I apologize for holding you up. Unfortunately, that call was important and ran longer than I expected.”
“No need to apologize.” Simone met her handshake and then sat back down. “I’ve been in the same situation more times than I can count. And, please, call me Simone.”
“And I’m Zoe.” She gestured at her coffee station. “What can I offer you?”
“Nothing, thanks.” Simone waved away the gracious offer. “Given all the meetings I’ve conducted today and how much coffee and water I’ve consumed, I think I’m about to drown.”
Zoe smiled, a practiced smile worthy of those Simone had seen on Hollywood faces. “I can imagine.” She reseated herself, her back ramrod straight, her fingers interlaced on the desk. Although she made comfortable, direct eye contact, she made no move to walk around and sit in the chair adjacent to Simone, or to suggest they move to the sitting area of her office.
Zoe Pearson was intent on making a point. The semicircular desk was an orchestrated barrier between her and Simone, and her body language said she was determined to stay in charge.
Simone had her work cut out for her.
“I was just admiring your pieces of art,” she said. “Where did you get them?”
“Robert Maxwell travels to China frequently on business. He knows I have a weakness for Chinese art and would often bring home a gift for me.” Zoe paused. “And just for the record, he never charged any of them to his company expense account. I would know; I file all of his reports. The gifts were a gesture of kindness and appreciation— something Robert is well-known for.”
Defensive. Not about herself but about Robert. What was that about?
“Zoe, please relax.” Simone went straight to the heart of things. If she couldn’t lower the wall Zoe had erected, she’d never get anywhere. “I’ve heard nothing but glowing praise when it comes to you and to Robert Maxwell, and I’m only here to pick your brain and see if you can shed some insight on how I can improve the manufacturing division. I have no ulterior motive and no hatchet to bury in anyone’s back.” Simone paused, seeing the skeptical look in Zoe’s eyes.
Ah, another indicator of how close Zoe and her boss were.
“I’m sure you’ve spoken with Robert.” Again, Simone went for the direct approach. “And I’m sure he’s clued you in on the fact that, as part of my job, I’m checking out any potentially problematic dynamics between departments that might interfere with the proper functioning of the manufacturing division.”
Zoe’s brows rose slightly, but she neither confirmed nor denied Simone’s statement.
“I take that to mean a yes,” Simone said. “I’m glad he shared that with you, because it saves me the trouble of doing so. This isn’t a witch hunt. It’s information gathering. I realize Robert is uncomfortable with it, given how protective he is about his employees. But it’s just a small part of my assessment, and a necessary one. He has nothing to be concerned about.”
“Do you have reason to believe our employees are not team players?” Zoe asked bluntly.
“If I did, I’d be discussing that with Robert. And I’m sure he’d be passing that information on to you. So I think you know the answer to that question already.”
“I only know that you’re still pursuing that path.”
“Along with any other applicable ones. Would you mind if I ask why you’re so defensive?”
Zoe drew in a breath. “Nano is more than my place of employment. It’s a huge chunk of my life. The staff here is more like a professional family than a bunch of co-workers. So, yes, I get defensive when I feel as if our integrity is being questioned.”
“Point well taken.” Simone nodded. “I’ve seen the teamwork you’re describing firsthand. It’s more than impressive, and equally rare. I’m not expecting to find anything to dispute that.”
Zoe seemed to thaw a bit, although her body language remained guarded. “What questions do you have for me?”
“Ones you could most likely answer in your sleep.” Simone crossed one leg over the other, intentionally opting against taking notes, just as she had with Ethan. Zoe wouldn’t squirm the way Ethan would have. She would just shut do
wn. After that, all she’d give Simone was one party line after another—a total waste of time, especially when Zoe could be a valuable ally.
“Robert made it very clear to me that you’re far more than an extraordinary PA,” Simone began. “He said you’re more like an executive, with a keen knowledge of business transactions and emerging technology. You’re highly educated. You attend and participate in high-level meetings. Yet you’re also Robert’s right hand. That’s a unique combination.”
“I like to think so.”
“As a result, you have a unique view of your boss and how he interacts with everyone in his world. You know his most significant time challenges and his main conflicts. You also have a unique overview of Nano as a whole. I need that perspective to help me do my job. So, from where you sit, are there any weak links in the manufacturing department? Not employees,” Simone added hastily. “Processes. Things that could run more smoothly so as to better the company.”
Zoe shook her head. “From my vantage point, Vance is a fine leader and a smart man. After all these years, he runs his department like clockwork. He and Robert work closely together, so there are no communication gaps that would slow things down. If anything, I’d say that Vance eases Robert’s challenges. In fact, I’m not even certain why Vance hired McKinsey to evaluate the effectiveness of his department.”
“Vance is a perfectionist,” Simone replied. “Also, with a revolutionary new technology about to be released, he wants to ensure that everyone and everything in his department is up for what lies ahead. It’s a common practice for executives to employ under these circumstances.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Zoe tilted her head and waited.
Simone cut down on her list of routine questions, asking only the bare-bones ones. Zoe was well aware that Simone had gotten most of these answers already and was just seeking confirmation. It was time to ask for her help.
“Zoe, I’ll be frank with you. Everyone I interview is going to give me the answers they know I want to hear. Very few employees in a tight-knit group like yours are going to say derogatory things about the company or their co-workers. You’re firmly committed to your career here. If I sense a problem, may I come to you to discuss it? I think you’re the right person to shed light on whatever issues I have or perceptions I get. And if that means setting me straight, all the better.”
