Speaking to the group, he rasped, “You know the rules. Keep your heads down. Do not look around. Don’t ask any questions. Do your business in the showers and come out. You have thirty minutes.”
He was their protector, or so they were told. Willow supposed that was why he tried to elicit some sort of a caring relationship with each of the girls. But she was cautious and, unlike some of the other girls, did not divulge any of the few thoughts or feelings she had left.
Once back in her room, Willow thought again of the boy. About eight, perhaps. “Who is he?” she said out loud. Maybe he was just a character in one of her stories. He floated to the surface of her mind. Feeling his strong presence, she began to write. For the first time, she could remember. She saw what he looked like and wrote quickly before she received her dose of escape for the day and forgot once again.
CHAPTER
14
THE FLIGHT TOUCHED down at O’Hare with a loud boom as the wheels slammed onto the runway. “God-damn it!” Armond swore, not caring who heard him. Taking out his phone, he texted: Just landed. Almost lost my life. Damn commercial pilots.
Victoria read the text, laughed and responded: No drama in you, my Hollywood friend. See you at my apartment.
Getting up, she stretched and winced as she limp-walked out of her office. Well, this is ridiculous, she thought as she headed toward the coffee nook to microwave the last bit of coffee in her cup before she headed home.
“And we’re walking like an old woman because…?” Mary asked when Victoria passed her desk.
“Because I’ve sat on my ass for the past five hours reading one of the depositions in the case for that new client. I actually feel worse than after I ran the half marathon last month.”
Smiling at her boss, Mary asked, “Isn’t Armond due in tonight?”
“Actually, he just landed.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it. I’m happy the two of you made up. I knew he couldn’t have been involved in all that mess with our old firm.”
Victoria cocked her head and looked at Mary, saying, “You always had complete faith in him. I would have happily run him down had I seen him in the street after I was escorted out by those goons. I have no idea why you felt so strongly he had nothing to do with it when my own eyes and ears saw and heard him letting me go from the firm.”
“I understand why you would have felt like that. But remember, I’d worked at the firm with Armond from almost the day he began. You came along much later. I watched him develop. He was always pretentious and cocky, but underneath all the designer suits, pocket hankies, and fancy words, he was a really good guy.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure I would have described him as ‘a really good guy,’” Victoria air quoted Mary’s phrase, “but far be it from me to argue with you. You’re the best judge of character I’ve seen yet. I’ve got to get home because you know how pissy that really good guy can get if you keep him waiting.”
Mary took the coffee cup out of her boss’ hand. “Go. Have a great night, and please give him my best. Will I get to see him before he leaves?”
“Of course. We’re meeting here tomorrow to discuss my case. But even if we weren’t, I can’t imagine Armond not stopping by to see you. You know he adores you.” As the elevator dinged its arrival and the doors opened, Victoria turned and waved. “See you tomorrow!”
Walking the few short blocks to her apartment, Victoria threw her head back and slowed her gait so she could enjoy the lingering warmth of what had been a glorious Indian summer day. She was excited to see Armond. Even though they’d hit a rough patch last year, he remained one of her best friends and, it turned out, one of her most loyal defenders.
She smiled as she recalled their first meeting as mentor-mentee years ago. Armond had worn an impeccably tailored suit, complete with a nattily designed pocket square that matched his socks. At the time, Victoria thought he would be difficult to work for, and she was right. But buried beneath his haughty demeanor was a big heart, and their shared values of compassion for others had drawn them into a fast, enduring friendship. After Victoria was fired, Armond eventually quit and his father convinced him to return to LA to help run Renoir Productions.
Walking into her apartment, she made a beeline to her fridge, pulled out the bottle of champagne she’d bought for his visit, and quickly stuck it into the temperature-controlled wine rack he’d given her as a Christmas gift. She’d forgotten to do it before she’d left that morning and both Armond and Kat insisted—snobs that they were—that champagne, and anything else they drank, had to be the correct temperature. As far as Victoria was concerned, as long as it had a cork instead of a screw top, it was good enough. Rolling her eyes as she thought about her two best friends’ proclivities for the finer things in life, the intercom buzzed. Pushing the button, she heard, “Let me in.”
“Sir, yes sir,” she responded, and within a few minutes, Armond was walking through her door.
“Well, my pet. It’s good to see you. You look fabulous! And a chignon with your hair? Aren’t we all grown up,” Armond said, holding her at arm’s length before drawing her into a hug.
God, he smells good, Victoria thought. Why have I never realized that before? “Well, my friend, I’m sure it’s a hairstyle you haven’t seen in a while, living amongst all those Hollywood hotties with their long, fake extensions. Perhaps it’s a bit too classy for you now.”
Armond smiled, accepting the challenge. “My my my! Hasn’t your tongue gotten sharper since you’re now large and in charge of your own firm? Perhaps a bit too shrew-like, though. You might want to tone that down if you ever want to get a man in your life. Shrew is not the flavor of the month.”
“Hmm, I think I’ll pass on taking advice from someone who hasn’t had a real relationship in—what is it—three years now.”
“Touché,” Armond said as they laughed. “It’s good to see you, Victoria. Seriously, you have no idea the idiots I deal with all day.”
She grabbed the champagne and handed it to Armond. “I bought your favorite and chilled it to your snotty perfection. I’ll let you open it, as I’m sure there’s some equally snotty way you want that done.” Turning, Victoria pulled down her new crystal flutes. She’d be just fine drinking out of paper cups but Armond always insisted on proper glass-ware, pontificating that drinking should be an experience. She had learned early on not to fight him on the little things. Besides, she always learned something.
“Watch and learn, my South Side beauty,” he said, adeptly popping the top with barely any effort yet still producing the celebratory noise. “Let’s sit on your balcony before we head to dinner. I have a few things to discuss with you, and I’d like a moment to relax after that harrowing touchdown.”
Settling into one of Victoria’s balcony chairs, Armond nodded appreciatively at the changes she’d made to her deck. “I like the updates. It looks good.”
Victoria looked around and nodded. “It turned out just as I pictured. The flooring is tile but has a wood look, and the flower boxes can stay out year-round. My mother and I always gardened together, and I’ve missed it.”
Armond took Victoria’s hand as they sat quietly enjoying each other’s company, watching the hustle and bustle of her neighborhood streets as people headed home or out after work. While they had always been touchy-feely with each other, Victoria was surprised to feel a thread of…something. Unsettled, she pulled her hand out of his grasp and pretended to fix a strand of hair. “So, tell me what’s new with your gold-encrusted Hollywood life?”
“Quite a bit, actually. Suddenly, being an investor in a Hollywood film and seeing your name on screen in the credits, has turned out to be quite the thing. We have more interest than we have films, here and in Asia. Obviously, we’d like to nail down as many investors as possible while interest is at its peak, but we need to find the ones that are financially solid, will abide by our contract terms, and understand their investment doesn’t mean their mistress ge
ts to star in the film. For foreign investors, we also need to ensure their money is from legitimate sources. The last thing we need is to be the target of a money laundering investigation.”
“Armond, I’m happy to get more work, but I don’t have experience in the financial arena. Wouldn’t you be better off hiring someone who has done that?”
“I trust you and your instincts, and that quality is hard to find. Remember, you were the one who warned me something wasn’t quite right when we were still at the firm. While I didn’t doubt you, I didn’t take you as seriously as I should have. That won’t happen again. And, since I don’t expect either of us to be experts in the investment banking arena, I’ve hired an outside firm and investigators to handle that part. What I need is someone to help me with the overall picture, look at all the data to determine the best investors for our films. My father’s given us strict instructions not to allow any weirdos or crackpots, as he so elegantly put it. That’s where you come into play.”
“Armond, you’ve got a good sense of smell too. I doubt you’ll really need me.”
“You’re also a contract geek. You know how I hate to read all those incredibly boring paragraphs. You love that stuff, and you’re good at it. There. Now you have the whole truth and nothing but the truth,” Armond said, raising his right hand.
“If I said yes, and emphasis on if, when would you want to leave and how long would I need to be away from the office?”
“I’d like to leave in ten days. We’ll take Renoir Productions’ private plane, so we can come and go as we please. The first round of meetings is in Hong Kong. Then, depending on how those go, we’ll decide if we need to continue to Singapore. I’d prefer, since we’ll be all the way on the other side of the world, to meet as many potential investors as we can. Then, when Renoir Productions is ready to green-light future films, we’ll have a stable of pre-qualified investors to pitch.”
“It sounds amazing, really. Other than Bermuda, I’ve never been out of the United States. But I’ve got a new firm to run and clients that need me,” Victoria said as she walked over to grab the champagne from the ice bucket to refill their glasses. “I just don’t see how I can make it work.”
“I thought you might say that, and I have some ideas. If you can clear your court schedule, I don’t think you’ll have a problem. I’ve asked my staff to ensure we each have everything we need in our hotel rooms to keep our offices running. They’ve assured me there won’t be a problem. And, with the hourly rate we’re willing to pay you, frankly, I don’t see how you can say no,” Armond ended, handing Victoria a folded piece of paper. “Open it.”
Victoria opened the paper and looked up at Armond with wide eyes and her mouth open.
“I thought that might impact your decision,” he said, smiling.
Throwing the paper into the air, Victoria walked over to Armond and held out her hand to shake. Just before he took it, she pulled it back. “Not so fast. We still need to work out a few additional points.”
“You’re kidding me, aren’t you, my pet?” Armond responded in the uppity tone she had heard him use when he was getting ready to put someone in their place.
“No, I’m not, and you can get rid of that tone. It doesn’t work on me. I’ll need a hefty retainer, and I want to be paid for my travel time. If you can agree to those terms, we have a deal.” Victoria held her breath as she again held out her hand. After too long a pause, worried that perhaps she had pushed too far, she prompted, “Armond, what will it be?”
Armond looked into her eyes, grabbed her hand and pulled her into his lap. “We have a deal,” he said, inhaling her distinctive scent as she instinctively clasped his shoulders for balance. For a moment, he admired the flecks of gold in her eyes, surprised he had never noticed before. Catching himself, he quickly shifted his weight forward to help her up and out of his lap. Grabbing his phone off the balcony railing, he began to flow through his emails. Without looking up, he ordered, a bit more gruffly than he intended, “Now, go do whatever it is you need to do to get ready so we can get out of this matchbox and celebrate!”
Victoria began running the numbers in her head as she walked back to her room to change. By her rough calculations, the amount she would earn over a three-month period working for Renoir Productions would almost equal the total revenue she had earned all of last year. It was obscene. “Armond,” she said as she walked out of her room ready for dinner, “do you realize how much money your company will end up paying me for this work?”
“Indeed.” Armond drawled haughtily as he attempted to recover his aloof demeanor. “If you’re going to carry on like a street urchin laying eyes on a shiny penny for the first time, I might have to rethink my offer.” Putting a bit of distance between himself and Victoria, he turned and took the empty bottle into the kitchen. Realizing he was being unnecessarily harsh, he explained, “Victoria, you do realize that I would have to pay even the most average of East Coast lawyers almost three times the hourly rate I’ve offered you? So really, you’re a bargain. Now, I’m hungry and your apartment is quite stifling. Are we having dinner, or are you going to continue with your errant ramblings?”
Victoria almost laughed out loud. It felt like old times when she’d had to listen to Armond’s cocky bullshit.
The more things change, the more they stay the same, she thought.
Standing in front of her hall mirror, she undid her chignon and easily twisted her long brown hair into a casual knot. Finishing, she turned to look at Armond.
“While I would typically take great delight in ripping you a new one for insulting my home and acting like a spoiled little rich boy, I’ll let it go tonight. Hell, I’ll go so far as to even let you pick the restaurant, even if it is one of those horrid sushi places you like. God knows why, though. I mean, if you take even five minutes to research, you’ll find scientific documentation that sushi allows live worms to set up camp in your stomach. You don’t want to hear what you have to do to get rid of them. Absolutely disgusting—”
Quirking one of his perfectly manicured eyebrows, Armond interrupted. “Is there any chance you could cease this tirade, delightful as it is, at least until we get in a cab?”
Victoria got a wicked gleam in her eyes. “Of course, Armond.” She was always happy to oblige and play haughty to his spoiled brat routine. “Since I’m such a legal bargain for Renoir, the tab’s on you tonight. I’ll get the next one after I send you my first official, obscenely large bill for flying around Asia on a private jet.” Turning, she headed out the door to enjoy a fabulous dinner with her newest client.
CHAPTER
15
“LISTEN, I KNOW you wanted to have her on your team, but I think in the long run it will be for the best,” Armond said, sipping his coffee. “Mary, thank you. It’s perfect as always. If you ever decide to live in sunny California or if you tire of working for this ballbuster,” he continued nodding at Victoria, “you’ll always have a home at Renoir Productions.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Are we finished with the love fest? We’re all painfully aware that you’re Mary’s favorite and that she only gets flat whites for you. Now, can we continue our meeting?” Without waiting for an answer, Kat forged ahead on speakerphone from her Houston office. “Armond, can you explain why you think the information Jenny has is worthless? As I recall, she thought she had a smoking gun that would help V’s case.”
“A bit pissy today, aren’t we, Kat?” Armond responded. “Let me guess, another riveting date with one of Houston’s finest?”
“If I were you, I wouldn’t start on dating unless you’d like a deep dive into your trysts with some of California’s best bimbos,” Kat lashed back. “You know, we get the tabloids out here in little ole Houston too.”
“Touché. We’ll call a truce for now. To answer your question, it turned out it was simply an overheard conversation about types of people Acker, Smith & McGowen prefers to hire. No real smoking gun, at least that I can
discern. But then again, I’m not an employment lawyer. Robert, perhaps you’ve heard something that you can use?” Armond finished, looking at Robert.
Projecting Jenny’s name followed by a list of words onto Victoria’s conference room wall, Robert answered, “The fact that certain traits might be favored by the firm is not particularly unusual. We don’t even know for sure if these are preferential traits, but assuming they are, some of them are not what you would expect a hard-charging international firm to want in its talent pool. The words Jenny remembered hearing— empathetic, emotional, pleaser, and giver— aren’t usually associated with the kinds of lawyers most firms would want to hire. Maybe it was a list of what they didn’t want in their rank and file.”
Kat jumped back into the discussion. “We need to find out if this even exists.”
“Even if we confirm the existence of some sort of a personality index, the firm can give us whatever explanation it wants for its purpose. It can be dismissed as anything from a list of traits it looks for in paralegals, to those it wants in its scholarship recipients,” Robert responded.
“Armond, did Jenny have any more details about what she overheard?” Kat asked.
“She didn’t,” Armond answered. “She thought it might lead us to Adam. For some reason, she believes if there is any wrongdoing at the firm, Adam is behind it. She really has nothing more to offer.”
“At this point, we’ll need her to be on standby as a potential witness in case we discover corroborating evidence that then makes what she overheard relevant. Right now, though, we’ve got nothing of substance,” Robert noted.
“I really think this is a dead end, but let’s hang onto the thread just in case,” Kat said.
“Agreed,” Robert said.
Robert looked at Armond. “As much as I hate to do this, I need to ask you to leave so we can continue our discussions. Unlike Jenny, who may only be a foundation witness, you will be a substantive witness.”
Private Agendas: A Victoria Rodessa Legal Thriller Page 6