by Jolie Day
“Now that our mother is dying,” Mira said in a purposefully factual way, “and since I not only have my degree, but also work experience, I would like to lighten some of your load.”
“I don’t need you to lighten my load, dearest sister-in-law. I have everything perfectly under control.”
“Of course,” she said. “I never doubted that. I can see it in the growing numbers and the money you have been paying me over the last few years. I don’t want to belittle your work — quite the opposite. Suzanne and I would like to thank you by having your back when we take the next step.”
With this last comment, she had won his complete attention. She could feel how Luke and her sister were now looking at her with great interest. “What exactly do you mean? What is the next step?”
Mira got up. During her studies, she had followed several lectures about psychology and at that moment she wanted — to say it exactly as it was — to elevate herself above Russell. If he really was as sovereign as he portrayed himself to be, then he would stay seated in his chair. However, if he felt that his authority was now being challenged by two women, he would mirror her and get up himself.
“The next step would be to end the year-long stagnation of Dumont Ltd,” Mira said calmly. The payments she had received over the last five years had not changed at all. This meant that Dumont Ltd was doing okay, but at the same time there had been no growth recorded in the business during that time. She had spoken directly to Russell and now quickly looked over to Luke, who looked at her skeptically. “I know what you are thinking,” she continued. “A new broom sweeps clean or even that I, having just graduated with my degree in economic science, have the audacity to tell you experienced veterans what to do now. Well, you know what? You are right.” She positioned herself behind the chair her sister sat in and placed her hands onto Suzanne’s shoulders. This gesture was meant to somewhat steady her as well as her surprised sister. “Let’s take Dumont Ltd and turn it into a truly magnificent company — together. A company that will be taken seriously by our competitors and maybe even feared.”
“And how are you planning on doing that?” It was Luke who asked that question. Russell seemed completely stunned by her forceful presence and at this point was obviously unable to provide her with a coherent answer. His face had reddened and if Mira hadn’t slowed down a little, she might have made her sister a widow soon. “We make money by importing and selling coffee. Are you suggesting that we expand our product range by adding tea?”
“No, of course not. None of us really know enough about the cultivation or preparation of tea, to be able to successfully produce and sell it. We would have to rely on middlemen and that is not something that dad would ever have done. He knew a lot about coffee because he loved drinking coffee and didn’t like the bean quality available in the supermarkets. That is why he was able to build up Dumont Ltd in the first place.”
“That’s really nice and all, but don’t you think we haven’t already tried to add products such as coffee filters or even coffee cans? I know the market and I am telling you right now, those kinds of knick-knacks are not the future of this company.”
“I agree with you completely,” Mira said patiently. “Suzanne and I have a different idea. We would like to open a coffee shop with the name Dumont Café. First just one shop, and then a whole chain.”
The silence that followed was long. Then Russell started to laugh out loud. It took him a while before he had calmed down. “And you honestly believe that I will put my money… I mean, the company’s capital into this ridiculous pipe dream of yours?”
He didn’t even try to hide his disgust. “Have you any idea just how many coffee shops there are in downtown L.A. alone, girl?”
“We don’t have to touch the company’s capital,” Suzanne added. Up until two minutes ago, she had had no idea about Mira’s plan to open a store with her, but right now she played her role as her sister’s business partner perfectly. “We can sell a few of our shares and finance our coffee shop that way.”
“The idea isn’t actually that bad,” Luke contemplated. Mira looked at him surprised. She had not expected that he would react positively to her improvised idea. “We would have to present our coffee as a luxury item in our specialty store. Especially in such metropolises as L.A. or New York City, where coffee has become more and more of a lifestyle product.” For a very short moment, Mira bathed in his admiring look, before she cautioned herself not to blush.
“Why don’t you two, I mean you three come to a compromise?” Luke’s correction told Mira that he was well aware of whose plan this had been. She only hoped that he wouldn’t suspect that she had no intention of actually turning this plan into action. She had to remind herself that all of this was just a hoax to pacify Suzanne and to be able to start her internal investigation.
During the coming days, she would have ample opportunities to think about her exact thoughts in this moment — and to regret them.
Chapter 11
Russell had agreed. What choice did he really have, once his wife and Mira had demanded to be “included”, which was what he had called it? When Mira was finally relaxing in a hot bath and thinking about her eventful day, she wondered if Luke had gotten into trouble because he had supported them. However, even if that was the case, it wasn’t her problem — and Luke was man enough to face his boss in an argument and not lose it or end up depressed. Now, she had a whole weekend ahead of her before she started at Dumont Ltd on Monday. The compromise Luke had suggested had been very well thought through and sensitively presented, which worked out for all of the parties involved. Depending on their responsibilities, Russell would introduce her and Suzanne to the practicalities at Dumont Ltd over the course of six months. “That is how much time it takes to fully understand the complex processes within this company,” Luke had explained. “You will have to work out your high-flying plans in your spare time, in detail. Numbers and facts are the foundation of any successful business. Passion alone doesn’t make money,” he had warned them, and Russell almost seemed to be relieved. Mira had not expected that he would take her “interference” this easily, not after she and her sister had left him to run the ship whichever way he wanted for all these years. In a way, she almost understood her brother-in-law. Here they were, the two girls, and suddenly they wanted to have a say in what was happening after they had ignored the company for well over seventeen years, while still holding their hands out and taking the money. For someone like him, who saw himself as the breadwinner in his family and who really cared about the image he portrayed to the outside world, this must have been truly offensive and insulting, something he wouldn’t take easily.
Regardless, thanks to Luke, they had found a really great compromise. Mira topped up the hot water and took care not to get her bandaid wet. The warmth felt good on her tense body. All in all, she had had a really good day, even though it had been somewhat exhausting. And who knew, maybe her improvised idea would turn out to be a hit one day. The thought of actually working at Dumont Ltd suddenly no longer seemed like such a bad idea.
There was only one more thing that she had to take care of immediately — Connor Carmichael and his present.
Ten minutes later she sat on the sofa and ran the scarf through her fingers.
Connor had good taste — that she had to acknowledge — assuming that he had searched for this present himself and hadn’t ordered somebody else to do it for him. Mira frowned when she realized how little she knew about him. She had no idea what he had been doing over the past seventeen years and who he had become since then. Everything she knew about him were the memories of a child. It was no wonder that his presence troubled her. She stared at the dark green fabric that was interwoven with a fine golden thread. The color was perfect for her hair and the fabric was light and yet warming. Possibly silk, she thought as she buried her nose in it, before yelling at herself for being childish and foolish. Determined, she wrapped the scarf back into the paper that Suzanne had
cast aside without a second thought, and then placed the little package back into the much larger and slightly dented box. Lost in her own thoughts, she twisted and turned the impersonal card with the “get well” wish on it, around in her hand. She herself had never been the type to continuously come up with witty phrases and she wished that she could think of something smart and fitting to remind Connor of his boundaries. In the end, she just crossed out the two words and wrote underneath them: “I only accept presents from friends.” That should suffice. Before she lost her courage completely, she called the reception desk to send someone to pick up the parcel and to return it to its sender, preferably immediately. Thankfully, the sender’s address had been written on the package: Connor Carmichael, c/o The Regency Gentleman’s Club, 23 Westbury Ave.
That should be enough to get it there.
This time, she was prepared to give the bellhop a tip when he came, and she asked him to send the package back today, if possible. “No problem, Miss Dumont,” the young man assured her. “I will make sure that one of our couriers takes care of this immediately. Would you like proof of delivery?”
“Thank you, that would be great,” Mira said and gave the bellhop yet another banknote.
So… she thought. The problem had been taken care of. She was tired but at the same time so full of beans that she couldn’t possibly go to sleep now. She had actually managed to keep thoughts of Connor out of her head for the best part of the day, but in her current condition that was no longer possible. Even when he wasn’t present, he still somehow managed to make her feel vulnerable. It wasn’t so much the perspective of an eight-year-old that haunted her, but much more the incompatibility of the two images she had of Connor from back then and today. She remembered that her mother had met him during her work at a charity organization. Maybe, back then, it had been her favorite project, where she was helping homeless children or those youths having trouble with the law. Mira couldn’t exactly recall what it had been. Her mother had seen something in Connor that had driven her to offer him a job in her husband’s company. What had it been that mom had recognized in him? There was only one way to drive Connor out of her head once and for all. Know your enemies, she suddenly thought. And what better opportunity was there these days than to troll the worldwide web to confront someone without actually having to deal with them in person? She got comfortable on the sofa, with her laptop on her knees, a bar of nougat chocolate, and a hot cup of tea. She had had enough of coffee for today.
She typed “Connor Carmichael” into the search engine and watched in surprise as the very first results turned out to be real hits. It was her Connor Carmichael that she recognized in several pictures with numerous articles about him. She had expected a tedious search ahead of her, since his name wasn’t exactly unique, even though it wasn’t too common either. And now she watched one listing after another popping up in front of her eyes.
This was insane. Connor Carmichael was a well-known personality and could maybe even be considered famous. Without clicking on any of the articles, Mira scrolled quickly through five whole pages of results. Roughly half of them had to do with his company and their clientele, while the rest featured his private life.
This really was impressive. Mira took a big gulp of her tea, even though she would have preferred something stronger at this point, which she decided against, due to her still taking pain medication. She had to stay clear and level-headed. The melting chocolate didn’t last very long.
While she had been going to school and then university in Europe, Connor had been busy during those years and had built a very successful existence for himself. It was more than that though, Mira thought, as she looked over his company’s homepage. The title “Imperium” seemed very fitting for what Connor now called his own. According to his official career summary, he had started in the security industry. At 22 years old, Connor had already had twenty employees helping him to protect famous and beautiful people on the West Coast from stalkers and overly zealous fans. After that, things had happened rather quickly. Within the following year, he was working as “Top Dog Security” throughout the entire nation. He was deemed the most capable personal security guard in the U.S., which apparently still counted today, if Mira read the article correctly. After he had made his first million in this very competitive industry, Connor had invested in various companies in the industrial sector. Complex security systems claiming infallibility were added to his arsenal, and so were additional electronically-based businesses. Mira wondered which volatile area of his company was the one hiding behind this phrase, but she decided to look deeper into this subject on another day. Her head already felt like it could burst at any second.
The next article was a profile of him in a scientific magazine. The author was a very well-known business journalist — someone Mira had heard of before. It didn’t take a lot to read between those lines talking about this “charismatic company founder”, who had left behind his “dubious past”, to recognize a certain giddy infatuation with him. When he is then also described as the “sexiest CEO alive”, Mira asked herself if the otherwise highly educated author may have actually lost her marbles. However, when his overall estimated monetary worth was mentioned, she realized that she had pretty much experienced the same thing as the journalist, just for different reasons.
She had studied economic science. How had Connor Carmichael never appeared on her radar? Was this because his companies operated predominantly in the U.S., or because she had purposefully closed her eyes towards him? Connor Carmichael was a freaking millionaire and she didn’t even know it. More importantly, he was now a self-made billionaire, and one who had worked his way up to the top by himself – from nothing – and who now had more money than he would be able to spend in ten lifetimes. Mira finally realized why he wouldn’t stay in a hotel, but preferred a noble gentlemen’s club, which were a tradition in England.
She knew for certain then, that the shot hadn’t been meant for her, but for him! A man with so much power who controlled almost an entire business industry, would surely have numerous enemies. Mira felt a very slight tingling inside her belly, which grew into a loud giggle. A couple of seconds later, she actually burst out laughing, which shook her entire body.
The man who had based his entire wealth on the establishment of security agencies, had now become the target of an assassin.
The phone rang. The caller was either extremely patient or persistent, because it took a while before Mira finally calmed down enough after her outburst, to pick up the phone and say her name.
“We were friends once.”
Her heart skipped a beat. He had received his package with the scarf faster than she had anticipated. Now she wished that Hyborn’s service had been less reliable and quick.
“Not anymore,” she whispered. The other end of the line stayed silent. She didn’t even hear him breathe. Mira closed her eyes and saw his face, self-confident, cool, and distant. “Also, I don’t really think that an eight-year-old girl can really be friends with an eighteen-year-old boy.”
The noise that travelled into her ear, made it sound as if he was directly next to her and not miles away. She felt how the tiny hairs on her neck stood up on end.
“We could become friends again,” he said. His words were almost as intimate as a caress, like a secret only they shared.
“No,” she replied, a little harsher than she had planned to sound. “No.”
“Why are you scared of me?” Velvet. Steel. Heart racing. His smell. The effortlessness with which he had picked her up back then. For just one split second she thought that she saw blood. At first, she wanted to deny it and tell Connor that she wasn’t scared of him, but he would sense her lie like a predator would feel the weakness of his prey.
“Because you are a murderer.” Just this morning, she had defended him towards her sister and had said that there could theoretically be a possibility that he was innocent, even though it wasn’t likely. Now that she heard his voice, any ration
al thinking seemed impossible. She felt like an animal trapped in a corner and her instinct told her that an attack was the only possible way out.
“I did not kill your father, Mira.”
“Liar,” she said with a voice that she could hardly recognize as her own. “I will find out the truth about what happened that night, Connor.” She had finally caught herself and calmed down somewhat.
“Let me help you,” he suggested. For the length of time it took for one heartbeat, Mira was speechless. “It is very much in my own interest to find the real murderer.” It sounded, as if he wanted to add something else and Mira waited for him to finish his sentence. But he didn’t say anything else.
“Why now?” She put all of her suspicion into this question when she asked. “So many years have passed by. They released you back then, and you cannot be prosecuted for the same crime twice. So, let me ask you again: Why now?”
“Because someone is obviously trying to kill me,” he replied coldly.
“Of course, silly me,” replied Mira sharply and was immediately happy about the fact that she no longer sounded like a scared little girl. “And now you are thinking that either my sister, me, or the both of us are trying to kill you because the justice system failed us back then. There is no way that you could have made yourself some enemies anywhere else.” These words came close to what she had said and thought already, but he didn’t need to know that. Sarcasm was one of her strengths and was a formidable weapon, especially when she felt that she was in the weaker position.