by Stone, M. T.
“It’s definitely real,” I assure her. “We’ll go deposit it after we have some breakfast. Anthony is waiting for us in the café along with Jack, Kate and Brandon. I think Kate is a couple years younger than you.” I can’t help but snicker at the thought.
“Hmm, that must say something about Jack,” she replies with a flutter of her eyebrows.
“That he’s rich and famous?” I ask, being a smart ass.
Mandy
Walking into the café to join Jack and the others, I am glad to be wearing a business suit instead of yoga pants. Jack and Brandon are both dressed in business suits, Kate looks just darling in a little business suit that must be a size zero. It fits her like a glove; it must have been custom fit for her.
“Dad and Kate, this is Trey and Mandy,” Brandon says, standing up to introduce us.
“It’s a pleasure,” Trey says shaking hands with both of them before taking an open seat next to Brandon.
“I just love your suit,” I tell Kate after greeting both her and Jack. “Did you have that custom fitted?”
“No, it’s straight off the rack. It’s part of a new line that I am developing with Nordstrom’s, designed for working women,” she says, with a proud smile.
“It fits you amazingly,” I add, reaching over to feel her lapel. “That must be really comfortable.”
“It’s comfortable, wrinkle-free and sells for about a third less than the one you are wearing,” she says in return. “Although, that one does look fantastic on you.”
“If I can get one like yours for a third less, I will do it in a heartbeat,” I tell her, still amazed by how it hugs her body perfectly. “Mine was custom fit based on my measurements, but I think yours actually fits better.”
“See guys,” Kate says, looking back and forth between Brandon and Jack. “Once women find out they can actually get clothes that fit them properly, the sky is the limit.” She pulls a business card out of her clutch and hands it to me. “You just send me your sizes and I’ll make sure that you are part of our test marketing campaign.”
“That would be great!” I love this girl already. Stuffing the card into my wallet, my attention turns to a more serious conversation that is emerging amongst the guys.
“If Anthony thinks you’re in real danger, I would definitely take it seriously,” Jack is telling Trey, which instantly grabs my ear. “I would trust him with my life any day of the week.”
“Thanks, Jack,” Anthony says, “At this point I’m just not exactly sure who we’re dealing with.” He pauses reflectively. “If it really is The Ghost, there might be a bigger agenda here than any of us can imagine.”
“Hopefully it turns out the same way that mine did,” Jack laughs. “I was convinced that Sau Ming was after me, but in the end it was a young punk named C.W. Jenkins. He was just smitten with Kate.” He gives her a sideways glance.
“I know C.W.,” Trey says with a laugh. “You’re really missing out on that one, Kate. He is definitely God’s gift to the female gender.”
“Oh, I know.” Kate replies with a cringe. “We went out one time and it was the worst date of my life. He was such a creep.”
“I’m thinking it might be a copycat in this case,” Anthony tells Jack, bringing a serious tone back to the conversation. “Someone who wants us to believe he’s The Ghost or is simply trying to emulate him.”
“I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t want anyone nicknamed The Ghost, chasing after me,” Kate says, placing her hand on my arm. “But Anthony will take care of him. You’ll have to ask one of the other guys about Anthony’s military record. He’s too modest to talk about it.”
“I don’t like to dwell on the past,” Anthony pipes up after hearing her comment. “I was there to protect my men and that’s what I did.” He gives us both a look that resembles that of a scolding father. “Now my job is to protect people like you, so that is where my focus lies.”
“Just know, he’s really kick ass,” Kate whispers in spite of his words. “You and Trey have nothing to worry about.”
“I totally agree with her,” Jack concurs, smiling and turning to Anthony. “Someday they will make a movie about you. In the meantime, lets order some breakfast.”
Trey
Talking with Jack and Brandon over breakfast, I’m beginning to wonder if I should take on a larger role at Addison Media. I have a feeling that Tommy’s days are numbered and even though I’m probably not qualified to be CEO I could at least play a more active role. The conversation evolves even further after giving them a thumbnail sketch of what went gone down with the Firefly Media debacle.
“Have you ever watched The Profit?” Jack asks. “He goes in and turns around companies that have good ideas but are failing for one reason or another.”
“Yeah, I’ve seen it. I think the majority of Tommy’s companies could use his services,” I reply jokingly.
“That’s what I’m saying,” Jack says with a nod. “If Addison Media gets involved, you can bring in someone who can turn companies around the way Marcus does. With Addison behind it and a decent host, the network would most likely pick it up again. If they don’t, you could still end up with a stable of growing companies.”
“It’s definitely something to think about,” I reply, feeling the first little twinge of entrepreneurial excitement that I have felt in a long while. “It would be a good way to bail out the Gleason’s. Otherwise, I have a feeling they will be screwed.”
“Yeah, I still can’t believe that a guy like Bill would take his own life,” Brandon adds. “He spoke at one of our banquets at Harvard Business School. He was a rock star in his day.”
“I have to give Aileen a call later today and see if there are any preliminary autopsy results,” I tell him. “I don’t believe for a minute that Bill hung himself. That makes no sense. Even if he was stressed financially, he had plenty of other options.”
“Well, I hope the true story comes out,” Jack says, with a look of compassion filling his eyes. “For both him and his family. He should be remembered for all the good he did, for not only the business community, but this entire city.”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
Chapter 14
Mandy
By the time we are done with breakfast, my mind is already focused on taking my check to the bank. I honestly can’t wait to see that many digits in my checking account balance. It’s weird to think that it only took about ten minutes to win all this money and even less time for Tommy to lose that much. It definitely gives me a whole new prospective on gambling.
“The first thing I’m going to do is pay off every cent that I owe,” I tell Trey as we hop into the back of the SUV. “I have fussed about my student loans since before I even finished college. I’ll pay off my credit cards, my car loan and then I can think about how to invest the rest of it.”
“I think you should buy yourself something you’ve always wanted too,” Trey replies, shaking his head at all of my practical thoughts. “There has to be something you have always wanted.”
“I always wanted a horse.” I think back to how I used to beg Dad for one after we moved to Tennessee. It would’ve been the perfect place to have one since there was already a barn and a small fenced in pasture.
“Okay, I was thinking more along the lines of jewelry or a sports car,” Trey replies, knowing that Manhattan and horses don’t really mix.
“Like a triple black, sixty-five Mustang?” I ask him with a smirk. “I’ve never had much interest in driving a Ferrari or Maserati.”
“I’m pretty sure you would change your mind if you ever took a Ferrari for a spin. There is a reason why they can charge as much as they do.” He gives me a look that says I honestly don’t know what I’m missing.
“I thought maybe there were just enough suckers out there who would pay whatever price they asked,” I reply teasingly. “Kind of like the guys who would spend four hundred and fifty thousand on a bulletproof SUV.”
Anthony bursts out laughing
at my comment. “You give him hell, Mandy.”
Trey just leans back with a smirk on his face. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”
“According to Romeo, he was able to sweet-talk a lovely, young cashier,” Anthony informs us. “Carly withdrew one and a half million in cash and took the other eighteen in the form of a cashier’s check.”
“Okay, so that means Agent Mitchell should be looking for transfers of roughly five or maybe five and a half million,” I reply, thinking she had probably spent some of it on other things.
“I’ll send him a text letting him know that five and a half million had left the account and he can figure it out from there,” Trey says, pulling out his phone to send the agent a message.
“Romeo is meeting up with the guys from Chetumal and then they are going in search of the white house north of the lighthouse,” Anthony adds with a backwards glance. “If she’s still in the city, they will have her whereabouts nailed down shortly.”
“Can they bring her back?” Trey asks, furrowing his brow. “It’s not like she has skipped bail or anything.”
“No. They will just keep an eye on her until the FBI has gathered enough evidence to have her extradited,” he explains. “We can shorten up that process dramatically.” I see a broad smile cross his face through the rearview mirror.
“How much do I have to set aside for taxes?” I ask, suddenly realizing that I hadn’t even thought about that aspect of the money we had won.
“Probably three hundred or so,” Trey says obviously guessing. “Like I said, I’ve never won money gambling before, so I’ll have to ask my accountant. By the time the tax is due, it will be a drop in the bucket anyway.”
“For you maybe, but it certainly won’t be for me,” I counter, feeling a bit annoyed by his nonchalant attitude.
“They sent the money to my account, so if there is any tax due it will be on my books, not yours.” He narrows his eyes as if I’m the one being annoying.
“That would mean this money is a gift from you,” I counter. “Then there will be gift tax that needs to be paid.”
“You are correct, and who pays the gift tax?” he asks, displaying his smartass grin.
“I know… the donor.” I relent, turning to look out the window. I know he doesn’t get it, but I don’t like the feeling of being given money out of pity. I would much rather work and earn it in some way instead of it being such an obvious handout.
“You aren’t very good at accepting gifts,” he reaches over and begins to tickle my ribs. “I want you to work on that, because I am going to insist on spoiling you a little.”
I giggle, unable to maintain my irked demeanor. “I’ve told you that I’ve never been money motivated and I have certainly never asked for a handout of any kind,” I tell him, reiterating basic moral values that are deeply instilled within me.
“That’s fine, but this was free money that we won together. I’m not going to need it,” he says, trying once again to explain his reasoning. “So relax, pay your bills and enjoy the rest. According to the attorney, Tyler and I will receive our first dividend payments in about a month.”
“I can only imagine what that check will look like,” I reply, knowing that it will most likely be up in the millions.
“If it’s the same as last quarter, it will be just over forty million,” he says unable to contain his grin. “That’s why I’m saying I’ll take care of the taxes.”
“Forty million,” I mutter, trying to even fathom what I would do with that kind of money. “Are you sure you can make that stretch for three whole months?”
“And I had less to do with earning that money than you did with the check you are holding in your hand,” he says with a rather pained expression. “Don’t think that I feel great about all of it coming to me just because someone killed my father. No matter how I try to rationalize it, it just seems like blood money.”
Anthony pulls into a parking spot in front of the bank, throws the SUV in park and spins backwards in his seat. “You two sure have some horrendous problems to overcome,” he says with a flash of anger in his eyes. “You are going to receive billions of dollars over the coming years,” he says focusing directly on Trey. “If you want to feel better about the money, do something good with it. You can start by helping Nolan and Aileen straighten out Firefly Media, just like Jack suggested.”
“You’re right,” Trey says, shaking off his emotions. “I will help them out. Dad would’ve helped Bill if he would’ve had the chance.”
“And you,” Anthony says, redirecting toward me. “It’s not your fault that your dad fucked everything up for your family. He took on the wrong guy and lost in a big way, but again, it’s not your fault. So quit acting like you don’t deserve anything. You both deserve it as much as anyone. Now, you see that man sitting at the bus stop over there?”
“Yeah,” Trey replies, glancing toward the street corner.
“Go give him all of the cash that you carry around in that fat money clip of yours,” Anthony says, staring at him until he pulls it out.
He then turns back to me. “You go deposit that check, get a few thousand in cash and give him a couple grand of it,” he says with a shimmer in his eyes. “You two will not only make his day, but he will talk about the two of you until his dying day.”
“You’re right,” Trey says, opening the clip where at least twenty five hundred dollar bills are folded inside. “You deposit your check and I’ll go have a talk with him,” he instructs me before opening the door and getting out of the SUV.
Trey
A look of fear crosses the man’s face as I approach the bench that he is sitting on. I give him a reassuring smile, but he scoots all the way to the end as I take a seat. I see these people all the time, but I have never really given them more than a fleeting thought. I guess I have always assumed that we have numerous programs that they can take advantage of in this country.
“It’s a nice day,” I say, trying to make small talk.
“Yeah, I’m glad it’s starting to warm up,” he replies rubbing his hands along his arms as if he is cold. “I haven’t had my coffee yet,” he grumbles, looking over at Starbucks, which is kitty corner down the street.
“Can I buy you a coffee?” I ask, wanting to start small.
“Oh, that would be awfully kind of you, sir,” he says, looking over at me with his big, brown eyes. “I’m going through a bit of a rough patch.” His lip starts to quiver and his eyes once again fall to the pavement before him.
“Well, you’re luck is about to change,” I reply, pausing long enough to regain his attention. “I just won a bunch of money and I would like to share some of it with you.”
“With me?” he gasps, looking around as if to see if there was a hidden camera lurking somewhere in the shadows. “Why would you share it with me?” He stares at me with a bewildered look.
“Because, I believe that if I share my good fortune with you, then maybe more will come my way later on,” I reply, pausing once again to let my words sink in.
“You know, I do believe that happens,” he says, nodding his head and giving me a faint smile.
“I want you to take this,” I tell him, giving him a stack of twenty-seven one hundred dollar bills folded in half. “After your luck changes, I want you to help out someone else who’s down on their luck. Okay?”
“I… I… Sure!” he gasps, glancing through the stack seeing Ben Franklin on each and every one of them. “I can’t believe this. Who are you?”
“I’m Trey Addison and you are?” I ask, holding out my hand to shake his.
“Marvin Lewis,” he says, looking down at my dress shoes. “I shined shoes like yours for over forty years, but hardly no one shines their shoes anymore,” he explains with tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes.
“You’re right, most people don’t even wear dress shoes anymore,” I add, glancing at the battered old leather shoes he is wearing. “Where did you work?”
“Right over there,” he points back toward the bank. “I used to be busy all day long. It’s the only thing I knew. I started helping my old man when I was just a kid.”
Mandy emerges from the bank and comes walking down the sidewalk toward us. “My girlfriend has something for you too,” I inform him as Mandy stops on the other side of him. “This is Marvin. He used to shine shoes right over there, next to the bank. He worked there for over forty years.”
“People don’t shine their shoes anymore,” Mandy replies with a look of understanding. “I want you to take this and get yourself something nice,” she adds, handing him another wad of hundred dollar bills.
“I’m starting to wonder if I’ve died and gone to heaven,” he says with a laugh, looking around as if he is still wondering whether or not he was being recorded. “I’m going to help my buddy Max,” he tells me with a spark in his eyes. “He’s been on a bad stretch too.”
“There are lots of places for you guys to get help,” Mandy tells him, rubbing her hand along the back of his humped over shoulders.
“I know,” he replies puckering up his face. “It’s just hard to look people in the eye when you are coming around with your hand out every day. I only go when I’m really desperate.”
“You should go whenever you are cold or hungry,” I tell him sternly. “You can’t help the fact that times changed on you. Needing a little help doesn’t make you a bad person. Also, it’s not too late for you to learn how to do something new.”
“I suppose you’re right,” he says with resignation, obviously not convinced that there is hope for a better future. “I just can’t believe all of this,” he adds, looking down at the pile of cash sitting on his lap. Where am I going to keep it?” He glances over at the shopping cart that serves as his home on wheels.