Crimson Footprints II: New Beginnings

by Shewanda Pugh

  “Article III, Section 2.15 of the Effective Code of Conduct Policy gives him the right to levy disciplinary actions at his discretion, up to and including suspension and a monetary fine,” she hissed.

  Deena righted herself immediately and set about ignoring him, her attention now on Daichi.

  He was one of those people who commanded attention when he entered a room. Dignified, masterly, refined—Daichi Tanaka gave off an air of importance, probably from the day he was born. Salt-and-pepper hair, steel-brown eyes, and a stubbornly square chin were more than enough to intimidate. Couple that with power, extraordinary wealth, and unequaled prestige, and the outcome was a recipe for unbridled fear.

  Today, Daichi wore a twenty-five hundred dollar Armani suit, tailor-made, smoke-gray. His briefcase, of the same gray, was a limited edition Prada, retail price close to five thousand. He retrieved the bag from a chair and tossed it on the table as though it cost nothing, before jamming two big hands in his pockets and turning away from a stark and attentive audience.

  “An architect by the name of Jayashree Verma has approached me with the aim of firm expansion into Sydney, Australia. I would like to hear partner thoughts before making a decision.”

  He faced them and waited.

  It was always that way with Daichi. Testing, ever testing. Giving them little information so that he could glean what they knew, what they didn’t know, and why.

  No one wanted to speak. Deena could see it in the way eyes studied the brown swirls on the table, life lines of a tree that once lived. When she glanced over at Kenji, his eyes were downcast, not on the table, but a spot just below it.

  Kenji smiled down at his phone. His buddies Zach, Brian, and Cody were heckling him for being absent as of late. Text message after text message rained in on him, each listing the plethora of activities they’d undertaken without him—all of which, coincidentally enough, happened to be far more fun without him. Their assumption was that he’d been getting lucky more often than not, with the blonde accountant, Paige. He hadn’t corrected them, not because he wanted them to think him a stud, but because she required little explanation and Lizzie, by contrast, too much.

  Zach, former college teammate and self-proclaimed ladies’ man, now sought to tell him about the opportunity of a lifetime of which he’d missed out. In it, he and Cody had been at their usual South Beach haunts when a potential one-night stand indicated a willingness to go home, not just with Zach, but Cody, too.

  THAT COULD’VE BEEN YOU, Zach concluded in a text.

  Kenji thumbed in a response.

  APPRECIATE THE THOUGHT, BUT LIKE 2 LEAVE THE RANDOM SEX 2 U.

  The answer came instantly.

  34” 26” 36”, Zach wrote.

  Kenji tried not to smile.

  To his right, a frumpy old lady who Deena couldn’t stand, stumbled over words. “Of course, I’m familiar with Verma’s work. He’s a—”

  “She,” Deena snapped.

  Kenji looked up.

  “What?”

  “Verma’s a ‘she,’” Deena corrected.

  “Oh.” The old lady shifted. “That detail escaped me.”

  “Fascinating,” Kenji’s dad said, in the unmistakable tone that meant he was honing in for the kill. “Considering that her early acclaim was mostly due to being such a young and successful woman in patriarchal India.”

  Kenji grinned, barefaced, as he looked from father to that old menace. Maybe she’d finally get fired after all. Lord knows she’s tortured Deena long enough.

  “Son, glad to see I have your attention. Now do tell us your thoughts on expansion into Australia.”

  Heat rushed through Kenji. Inadvertently, he shot a look at Deena. She stared at her lap.

  “Well, Dad . . .” He took the time to swallow, grasping for snippets of conversation. Nothing. “It all sounds okay. But you’d know best.”

  Kenji waited, eyes on his father, who never even blinked as he watched his son. Finally, Daichi nodded his approval.

  “Off the cuff, I’d have to decline the venture,” Jennifer Swallows cut in. “A twenty-six office firm is pretty substantial already, I’d say. And we want to guard against artificially inflating ourselves.”

  Lines now creased the otherwise sharp-featured face of Jennifer Swallows. She reminded Deena of a bird at times—not the beauty of a majestic eagle, swarming high above others, or the charm of a sweet blue jay. No, Jennifer Swallows reminded Deena of a starving elderly vulture through both deed and appearance.

  Deena shot her an impatient look. “Your argument is the same each time we consider expansion. ‘The firm is large enough already,’ as if each new job created somehow lessens your bottom line.”

  “We expanded into Buenos Aires,” Jennifer said. “At your insistence.”

  “And we stayed out of Singapore, at yours!”

  Strom Wilson groaned. “Please, could we not rehash Singapore, Deena?”

  Strom was the newest partner of the firm, in position for two years, at the firm for seventeen. Hair a stark white, face a constant frown, he made no qualms about his impatience with younger, less-experienced architects, Kenji included.

  “Seven percent of the world’s top architects graduate from the National University of Singapore,” Deena said. “Other firms with a direct presence are capitalizing, not only on those numbers, but on the cultural viewpoint which shapes the architecture of—”

  “Stay on topic, Mrs. Tanaka,” Daichi said, but there was no mistaking the smile of appreciation. She knew it well.

  “Fine,” Deena said. “What are we considering here? Expansion into Sydney. It’s a great idea if the bottom line can support it.”

  “What a surprise,” Jennifer said. “But then again, maybe I’d be perpetually interested in expansion, too, if I sought to profit.”

  Daichi silenced her with a hand. But it was a fair point. Up until very recently, the Tanaka firm only offered non-equity partnership. In it, partners received a fixed salary plus their rate of commission; however, their fixed salary proved significantly higher than that of the other associates. With Deena’s marriage to Tak, she became the first equity partner in the Tanaka firm, garnering a stake in its operations, profiting when the firm did, and earning on every project, regardless of whether she’d contributed or not. And while non-equity partners had only cursory voting rights, Deena could weigh in on any subject, though Daichi still wielded power of the veto. Deena had, in essence, become the second-most powerful individual among the firm’s 9,000 employees. Kenji became the third.

  Kenji dropped his phone on the floor.

  “It stands to reason that we’d want a strong presence in Australia,” Deena said loudly, horrified that Daichi might see his son palming the floor for his phone. “The Tanaka firm has a reputation of excellence;” she continued. “We should seek to expand that as far and wide as possible.”

  “Yeah,” Jennifer snapped. “Except when you branch out too thin we end up having to lay off a few thousand employees at your behest.”

  Deena stared at her. “If I didn’t know any better, Ms. Swallows, I’d think you were blaming me for the state of the economy, too.”

  Daichi grinned deliciously, a rare smile, restrictive but still reminiscent of Tak’s. Deena couldn’t help but smile in return.

  “Daichi,” she said softly, turning to face her father, “we can’t ignore the reputation or the caliber of students that typically graduate from architectural colleges in Australia, particularly, the University of Auckland. Their faculty is among the best in the world. To remain competitive, we’ll need to tap into that.”

  Daichi nodded in slow agreement.

  “And there’s something to be said for a diversity of experiences,” Deena continued, audience disappearing to one as she warmed to the argument. “But I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. Diversity is at the helm of your belief system. The arguments you make as you go from lecture to lecture. What do they say? That we’re to embrace, nurtur
e, and reflect the prevailing norms, belief systems, and richness of diversity in varying societies. Therefore, it only stands to reason that we can benefit from adding high-quality Australian architects to an already diverse family.”

  “Yes, but—”

  Daichi halted Jennifer with a hand.

  “Agreed,” he said. He turned to Jennifer.

  “Ms. Swallows, do us the pleasure of researching the feasibility of expansion into Australia. I hope you were paying attention to the points Mrs. Tanaka illustrated. I’d like them highlighted in precise format. In addition, prepare a list of architectural firms with the largest presence in Australia, as well as their substantial in-state projects within the last ten years.”

  A cell phone rang. Deena flinched.

  Daichi’s gaze swept the group, scathing, searching, stalking. Deena shrank in her chair, thankful for the OCD tendency she had to check her cell three or four times before each meeting started. Partnership in no way meant immunity. In fact, two former partners, Sam Michaels and Donald Mason, had been forced out after complaints from Tak following a few incidents between them and Deena. Actually, Tak had told his father that he could either fire them or watch him kick their asses. They’d received notices the same day, and with only a cursory severance pay.

  Daichi came to a standstill just before Deena. She looked around in confusion before realizing all eyes were now on a statuesque, horrified Jennifer Swallows.

  “Answer,” Daichi demanded. “Answer before the blatant way you insult my intelligence further rouses my temper.”

  Jennifer reached into a dumpy and oversized black purse, fishing around blindly. Several moments of shrill ringing lapsed before Daichi snatched the bag and dumped its contents on the table. Crumpled receipts, old napkins, lipstick, mascara, eyeliner, a plastic knife, mints from the Olive Garden, sunscreen, two jumbo-sized Snicker bars, a pair of car keys, sunglasses, and a tiny silver vibrator clattered to the table.

  Deena gasped.

  “Answer,” Daichi repeated.

  It was only with effort that Deena’s huge eyes slid from the silver bullet to its owner.

  Jennifer rose from the table, face a nightmarish red, only to have Daichi shake his head in forbidding fashion.

  “You’ve interrupted our meeting. We will interrupt your conversation. Answer now.”

  Jennifer dropped into her seat.

  “Hello?” she croaked.

  Silence followed.

  “No, I—”

  She reached for her items and hurriedly began stuffing them into her purse.

  “Brian? My Brian?” she was on her feet. “No! I’ll be there immediately.”

  Jennifer hung up the phone.

  “I have to go,” she said. “I’m so sorry. My grandson—my grandson’s been attacked. I have to get to Edinburgh Academy.”

  The phone in Deena’s purse began to vibrate. She looked down and saw it was Edinburgh Academy.

  “Daichi, I’m sorry.” She was already pushing away from the table. “Edinburgh’s calling me, too. I better take this.”

  Daichi tossed aside his pointer. He said nothing, but stepped closer, as if watching a fascinating scene unfold. Deena answered her phone.

  It was the dean, insisting on a conference at once.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Deena stepped into the dean’s office at Edinburgh Academy and froze at the sight of Jennifer Swallows. Next to her was a portly boy with an ice pack affixed to his face. And to Deena’s left, Tak and a scowling, wild-haired Tony.

  “Deena,” Jennifer hissed, her gaze following her as she took a seat next to Tony. “Had I known the riffraff who attacked my baby was yours, I would’ve given you a ride.”

  Tony’s hand clenched in a fist. Tak placed his own hand over it.

  “Why would you call a child names?” Deena said. “Seventy years old and ill-bred as ever.”

  “Ill-bred!” Jennifer sputtered.

  Deena turned on Tony. “What happened? Did he attack you?”

  Any offspring of Jennifer Swallows was prone to do just about anything.

  Tony turned from her, focus now on a white stretch of wall.

  “You heard your aunt,” Tak snapped. “Answer. Now.”

  Tony sighed. “Yeah, I hit him first,” he said proudly. “And I’ll do it again if he bugs me.”

  Deena stopped. “But he . . . harassed you?”

  Tony shrugged roughly.

  “I only tried to be his friend!” the fat child blubbered. “I tried to help him with his work!”

  “Other students in the class tell me that Brian offered to assist with a writing assignment that Anthony appeared to be having difficulty with. In response, Mr. Hammond attacked him.”

  Deena turned an incredulous look on the dean. “Well, that can’t be all to it,” she said. “Tell him what else happened, Tony!”

  “That’s all. That’s it,” Tony said simply.

  Deena and Tak exchanged a somber look.

  “He shouldn’t even be here,” Jennifer Swallows blurted. “There’s an admissions process. Edinburgh Academy is the most exclusive private school in the Southeast, and I know for a fact that he shouldn’t have been here.”

  “His reputation is horrible!” the fat child conceded. “All over the school he’s alienated other people! Frankie Spencer told me just the other day their family’s considering a lawsuit for public slander after something he said.”

  “Frankie Spencer’s a doughnut bruiser.”

  “Tony!” Deena shrieked. “My God!”

  She looked from the dean to Jennifer, the latter of which smiled like she’d just been blessed with the sweetest, richest, most indulgent dessert.

  “Keep it up,” Tak warned. “Keep it right up, Tony Hammond.”

  Tony shot Tak a look of impatience but said nothing.

  “I promise you, we don’t encourage this kind of behavior,” Deena said to the dean.

  “Oh, you can hardly help it,” Jennifer said with mock graciousness. “After all, the whole office knows how he just showed up on your doorstep. How he was homeless just months ago.”

  “Homeless?” Brian echoed.

  “Somebody better shut her up,” Tony warned.

  “Here, I was thinking the same,” Tak said with a look of caution trained on Jennifer.

  “Subject to Edinburgh Academy protocol, Mr. Hammond will be faced with one week’s suspension for his actions,” the dean said.

  “A week!” Jennifer cried. “That’s hardly enough! Look at my grandson. He’s been beaten!”

  “It’s the extent of our capabilities,” the dean replied.

  “Bullshit! You can kick his ass out,” Jennifer said.

  “For a first offense?” the dean said.

  “For a kid who just got here!”

  Jennifer turned a scowl on Deena. “Influence, always influence. What tempting nugget did the Tanakas offer to get their riffraff into the most prestigious school south of the Mason Dixon line?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Deena said evenly.

  “Like hell you don’t.”

  Jennifer leaped from her chair, snatched her wounded grandson by the collar, which caused him to groan, and ushered him toward the door. Deena caught a glimpse of the furious shiner just beneath his icepack. It would haunt him for days.

  “You know, Mrs. Tanaka, maybe if you spent half as much time keeping this hooligan in check as you did feeding some thirst for riches the ghetto girl inside you desire—”

  “What?” Deena cried, heated and overheated in an instant.

  An arm shot out from Tak. He stood, putting a body between his wife and a woman nearly her grandmother’s age.

  The dean leaped from his chair. “Ms. Swallows, I hardly think—”

  “The PTA will know that you’re harboring a thug on campus,” Jennifer said, cutting him off. “Don’t be surprised if Pepperdine gets an influx of students in the coming weeks.”

  Jennifer slammed the door behind he
r, forcing it to bounce with her fury.

  Silence followed.

  “Well,” Deena said finally, “we should probably go.”

  “I’m afraid there’s one more thing. Something I didn’t want to mention in front of her.”

  The dean returned to his desk. He picked up a simple black notebook and opened it before handing it over to Deena. There was a fist inside.

  “This is what he spends his time doing while others are working.”

  Seconds later, Tak, Deena, and Tony burst out of the office.

  “Room for two weeks!” Tak shouted. “And not the room as you’ve got it now. I’m talking no TV, no video games, no computer, no breathing without my okay! You got that?”

  Tak turned on him midhall, daring Tony to contradict.

  Head lowered, hands in his pockets, he found sudden interest in his reflection on the floor.

  “Yeah,” Tony said.

  “Yes,” Tak snapped. “And you’re not gonna just be lying around, either. You’ll pick up on the chores. Mrs. Jimenez’ll let you know what to do. You give her a hard time, and you’ll see that two weeks lasts as long as I say they do. You got it?”

  “Yes.”

  Tak stormed down the hall with Deena just behind him. She glanced back only once to shoot Tony a glare of warning.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Tony rode with Deena, at her insistence, back to the house. She’d handled things this way to give Tak time to cool off and Tony a moment to express himself.

  “If he did something to you,” Deena said quietly as she merged onto I-95, “something you didn’t want to mention back there, it’s okay. You can tell me now.”

  Tony said nothing.

  “When you were back at the group home—”

  “I’m not gonna talk about the group home,” Tony snapped.

  Deena lapsed into silence. And it was in silence that they drove home.

  When she pulled into the driveway, it was next to Tak’s convertible. Silently, Deena and Tony went into the house only to be greeted by the sight of Tak pacing.

  “Go to your room,” he snapped.

  Tony slumped off.

  “What now?” Tak demanded the moment he was out of earshot. “What now, Dee? And what the hell is happening?”