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Don concluded the meeting with three minutes to spare, completely convinced Uncle Frank intended to charge for any overage. A barrage of thoughts bombarded Don. The extent of Joel’s failure was mounting, and it was far-reaching. Don had to vent. He wasn’t going to lay his challenges onto Naledi. He dialed the one person who would understand and possibly assist. Please answer the phone, he thought. The phone rang and rang with no answer. He sighed in disappointment, tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, and pulled the seat belt across his chest. As he was about to slide the buckle into the hook, the phone buzzed. He glanced at it and snatched the phone quickly. “Mother, where are you? I just called you.”
“Well, hello to you too. I was half-asleep. Remember I am in Hawaii. It’s not quite six A.M.”
“Oops, I’m sorry, Mother. I did forget.”
“So, what’s so urgent?”
“You won’t believe my morning. I had a very strange meeting with your brother-in-law.”
“Who, Frank? What in the world were you doing with him?”
“Trying to regain the Southern division.”
“How did it go?”
Don recalled the outrageous price tag on his services. “He is expecting to make a small fortune with this deal. There’s no way I’m paying him six million dollars and his investor buddies six hundred million for the Southern division.”
“Is that what he’s asking?”
“Can you believe him? Even if I wanted to entertain his offer, DMI doesn’t have the cash.” Don let his neck hang down with his head following. “If we paid Uncle Frank and the investors what they want, DMI would be bankrupt. We’re close as it is, but those two transactions would push the company over the edge.”
“Why don’t you let me talk to Frank? We’ve had dealings in the past and I kind of understand his language.”
“I don’t want to pursue discussions with Uncle Frank. I have a bad feeling in my gut about making a deal with him or his people. I can’t get caught up in a scandal, and you know Uncle Frank breeds scandals.”
“I can’t argue with you there. He dragged your father’s name down. Frank is not for lightweights. Sounds like Joel got in over his head. I’m proud of you, Son. You’re more like your dad every day. Dave had his shortcomings, but professionally he was a smart man. I’m not going to speak about his lapse in judgment and morals when it came to that home-wrecker of his.”
“Mother, I agree. We’re not going to get sidetracked with Sherry. I have too much to accomplish today with zero time for slashing Sherry.”
“I’ve gotten better, you have to admit.”
“Perhaps; only time will tell.”
“Let’s get back to your situation. How can I help you without coming to Detroit?”
“Go to Cape Town and give Naledi a hand for me. That will free me up to get submerged in unraveling this fiasco without feeling guilty about leaving Naledi completely alone.”
“I’m not sure.”
“What’s holding you back? You’ve always told me you will support me when I need you. Well, I need you.” She’d done the unthinkable for Tamara. His request wasn’t nearly as extreme. “I need your help, Mother, seriously.”
“You are not going to let me out of this, are you?”
“The only other alternative is for you to come here and work with Abigail. Then I can go handle LTI.”
“I told you that’s not an option.” He knew her answer was no, but it forced Madeline to give more consideration to his request. “If my going to LTI means this much to you, then I have no choice. I’ll have to go.”
“Don’t make it sound like the kiss of death.”
“I’m sorry, Don. I didn’t mean to seem begrudging. Actually, I’m glad to help, honored to be asked. At least one of my children has use for me. So I should be thanking you for allowing me to be relevant.”
“Relevant and a whole lot more,” he said, feeling lighter. Having Madeline on board was a priceless asset. She could take care of her business and his. Naledi was covered. He was relieved and rejuvenated.
“One more question before you go: how’s Tamara doing?”
She’s doing very little, he wanted to say, but opted to paint a rosier picture for his mother. With the price Tamara made her pay, he wanted Madeline to realize a return on the investment. “She’s coming along, jumping into the fray. There’s plenty of work for everyone to get a healthy share.”
“Good to hear; then my decision to go was the right one.” Don didn’t think so. Three to six months from now would have been better. Immediately following changes in the executive team was the worst possible time. The timing wasn’t fair to Tamara, to Don, or to Madeline. But wallowing in faulty acts of reality was pointless. He would shun the thoughts and press on.
“When are you heading to Cape Town?”
“Next week,” she replied.
“Fair enough. Now that you’re going to Cape Town next week, I can concentrate on selling off Harmonious Energy first and then worry about regaining the fractured divisions.” There was plenty to do without adding Uncle Frank’s extortion to the list. That was Joel’s style, not his. Don was going to have to rely on his faith in God’s favor to move the boulders piling up in his path to victory. Relying on his own skills hadn’t worked for Joel, and Don was resolute that he would not travel the same path.
They were ending the call when Madeline yelled, “Don, wait!”
“Yes?”
“Tamara didn’t take the money I offered. Do you know if she has any?”
“I’m not sure but I don’t think so. She asked for a salary the other night, and I gave it to her.”
“Where is she staying, at our house?”
“She was totally against staying there.” Don understood and was sure Madeline did too. “I offered to let her stay with me. She said no. As far as I know she’s staying at the Hilton Garden downtown.”
“This is ridiculous. I’m in Hawaii and my daughter is in Detroit, broke.”
“We don’t know that she’s broke for sure.”
“Something is going on. I need to check into this.”
“No, Mother, don’t. You can’t cross the line. Now that Tamara is here, we can’t spook her into running away again.” He didn’t have to dig deep to find compassion for Tamara. She wasn’t helping his cause professionally but work didn’t trump family or love.
“I’m not trying to drive her away, just the opposite. It’s hard to stay at arm’s length when the two of you need me, maybe more than you ever have. I’m doing the best I can not to intervene. That’s why I haven’t jumped at your invitation to join Naledi at LTI. I’m like an addict. Giving me a taste of the family business and interaction with my children and then shutting down full access is a recipe for failure. I don’t know how to do less than a hundred and ten percent. I’m trying to maintain distance. I’m trying, and it’s the hardest feat I’ve tackled in my sixty-five years. So when you tell me my daughter is broke or you suspect that she is, my millions don’t mean a hill of paint if they can’t support the people I love.”
Don’s heart ached for his mother. Her pain was sharp. He could feel it in every fiber of silence choking the call.
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Joel flipped through the pages of his marital contract, letting the strangled rays of sunlight pierce the partially closed blinds. The paragraph radiated like neon lights. Funds were to be held in escrow with a minuscule one million dollars paid to Zarah each year until the fifth year, when the entire Bengali estate transferred to her. Divorce provided the only exception. If Joel left her, she’d immediately assume ownership of the entire estate.
He kept reading, searching for a glitch. Several rounds of scrutiny netted the same outcome. Sole ownership of DMI’s West Coast division and the money belonged to Zarah. He estimated her net worth to be one and a half billion. Joel pumped his fist lightly against his lips. He was certain Zarah could be talked into pur
chasing Harmonious Energy. She was eager to please, giving him the leeway necessary to take risks. If they were going to stay together, she had to understand his need to be stimulated professionally. The rest of life was lumped into a huge secondary category. How far up the list their marriage ranked was going to be up to her.
Joel pondered his options. The three noticeable gaps in his plan made his head hurt. They were not insurmountable, more like a few notches short of impossible. First he had to figure out how to convince Zarah’s executor to release her inheritance early. Assuming the first feat was accomplished, the second hurdle was waiting patiently. Zarah had to assign ownership of her family’s company to him. He had to be secure in the leadership position in order to make bold and uncompromised decisions. He didn’t have the ultimate authority at DMI and it cost him. The board of directors kept cuffs on his vision, neutralizing his abilities. His reign at Harmonious Energy wouldn’t start off flawed. Ownership was mandatory. Without the transfer from Zarah, their marriage would have no merit. Hopefully she could understand.
Joel hated being reduced to this level of dependence. He reflected on his predator. Madeline led the pack of wolves who’d sought his demise. Don trailed in the rear, nipping at his heels every now and then. They weren’t alone. Zarah’s father had taken a few bites too.
Musar Bengali had the stipulations locked down. His dying wish was to ensure that his daughter, his sole heir, was secure in a marriage with a strong man of means. He’d handpicked Joel and sought him out for Zarah. Joel acknowledged that he still possessed half the qualities of a suitable husband, though the decline of DMI had eliminated the “means” component.
Musar was shielding his daughter from the grave. Joel wasn’t sure if the gods of Zarah’s father could help. He didn’t know much about them but desperation made options he’d once ignored suddenly interesting. He wasn’t about to go to the God of his father. They’d parted ways a few years ago. Joel wasn’t ready to make amends. Circumstances hadn’t gotten quite so desperate. He acknowledged that his faith fell pitifully short compared to what was needed.
Joel dove deep into strategizing. If he got the cash to buy Harmonious Energy and Zarah signed over ownership, his plan would hinge on taking ownership of the West Coast division too, beating out Don. The move was critical in establishing a U.S. presence, enabling him to keep a toe in the DMI world. This was going to be tricky. Zarah couldn’t sell or transfer ownership to her husband until three years into the marriage. If there were no children in the marriage after three years, Joel could divorce Zarah and have the right to purchase the West Coast division at fair market value. Three years might as well have been a thousand. His funds were depleted. He owed everybody for everything. Joel was operating in the red but his mother’s offer to help wasn’t to be considered.
Betrayal reeked and his anger fumed as he paraphrased the next clause in the marital agreement. There were no restrictions on Zarah selling or transferring ownership to another person or entity. His anger heated. Vultures were hovering. He had to keep Don and Madeline at a standoff until the pieces of his puzzle were secure. Letting any of them take possession would be the final blow in his demise. His recovery would be officially terminated. Joel closed the contract and returned the document to the top drawer in his desk. He turned the key in the lock and went to find his partner. They had a bond. She needed security and a husband. He needed a company and cash. The arrangement was suitable so long as each was getting what they needed.
He turned around, going back to his office. Sheba was due a call. He’d refrained for weeks. No logic in dragging the communication ban any further when he knew their reunion was inevitable. He rushed to his office, closing and locking the door behind him, dialing rapidly. Like a kid headed to Disney World, he never tired of the thrill.
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Tamara scrambled to collect papers spread across the modest-sized table. She emerged from the cramped conference room, excited. Abigail was standing in the doorway of Don’s office, across the hallway. “Good night,” Tamara said to Abigail.
“You’re leaving?”
Tamara didn’t feel obligated to justify her time. A quarter to five represented a full day, especially when she started before seven. Her eight and a half hours were more than satisfied.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Don came to the doorway. Abigail stepped to the side. “I’ve been meaning to ask if you’re still at the Hilton Garden,” he said.
“I am, but not for much longer.” She was staying there until cash from her first paycheck was received; she had to in order to be able to cover the bill at checkout. The bill was larger than the money she had left. “I’m looking at three apartments this evening.”
“Sounds like you’re going to stay around.”
“I’m looking at short-term leases until I can see what my future holds. The apartments close at six thirty.”
“You need a ride?” Don asked.
She wanted to decline but didn’t want to miss her appointments. A taxi was too much. “Actually I would like a ride. Are you leaving now?”
Don took a quick glance at his watch. “I intended to stay here until eight or nine, since we’re preparing a presentation for the board of directors. But don’t worry about it. We can take a break. I can zip you to the apartment and come back later to finish up.”
“You’re too busy, don’t worry about the ride. I’ll take the bus or get a taxi, no big deal.”
“No, it’s not a problem. I want to take you.”
“But I don’t want to pull you away.” Tamara’s excitement faded. The duo expected her to work late too, she thought. Yet, the apartment held her attention. The building offered the first month free, which was too compelling. She had to go. She had to stay.
“Seriously, it’s okay. I can finish tonight,” Don said.
“How about this?” Abigail interjected. “Go with Tamara. I’ll keep working. By the time you get back we can knock out what’s left. You can take a final review in the morning, mark it up. I can make your changes and have the final version on your desk by noon.”
“We could shoot for an early afternoon meeting with the board,” Don added. Abigail gave a thumbs-up.
Tamara was growing antsy. Each tick of the clock seemed like an hour. Four fifty already. Stay. Go. She needed the apartment. Equally she needed Don and Abigail to believe in her genuine commitment to learning the business. “Oh what the heck, I might as well stay.”
“Don’t change your plans,” Abigail said. “Don and I can get this done. We’ve burned the late-night oil together many times.” Tamara noticed the lift in Abigail’s voice when she spoke about Don.
“Tamara, she’s right. Between the two of us, we can do this. I don’t want you to put a hold on your apartment hunting. Finding a home is your top priority, and I don’t want to interfere. We can handle this round for the directors, but you keep reading and jump in when you feel ready.”
They weren’t taking her seriously. Tamara hated being viewed as a burden and constantly being marginalized. She wasn’t a child waiting for her babysitter to let her stay up late or to give her a larger slice of pie. She had as much right as Don to be engrossed in DMI, definitely more than Abigail. The “M” in “DMI” stood for “Mitchell.” Tamara wanted to be included in the big meetings. That’s how she was going to learn the business. “I definitely want to be involved with the presentation. I may not understand every detail, not yet, but I’ll get there.”
“Let’s get to work then,” Don said. Abigail didn’t seem too bothered.
“What time is the meeting with the board of directors? I want to block off the time on my schedule,” Tamara said.
“We don’t have a time yet, but the meeting is only for board members. We can fill you in afterward,” Don told her.
“Who are the members?”
Don shifted his weight from one leg to the other. She could tell he wasn’t prepared for the question. “Let�
�s see, there are nine in total. Mother and I are the last of the Mitchell clan.” He named four other people. Abigail filled in the two he missed; they finished each other’s sentences. “The ninth seat is open since Joel stepped down. I want to nominate Abigail for membership at the next regularly scheduled meeting. She’s earned the role.”
“Thank you,” she said, appearing demure. Tamara didn’t believe the reaction to be totally sincere. Any woman who’d worked her way to the boardroom couldn’t possibly be as meek as Abigail appeared. There had to be a pit bull personality hidden just below the surface.
Don beckoned for them to come inside his office and close the door as the conversation continued. Tamara didn’t worry about the apartment search. There was a little more time.
“Tomorrow is an emergency meeting. Total focus is on getting the members to endorse our recovery concept. On a high level, I’m proposing we sell Harmonious Energy to the highest bidder.”
“I thought the company belonged to the family of Joel’s wife,” Tamara said.
“Correction, the company belongs to DMI,” Abigail stated.
“I wanted to give Joel and Zarah first crack at the sale, but you see how he reacted when we met. I have very little confidence about cutting a deal with Joel on the company,” Don said.
“But Zarah is the one who has to make the decision.”
“If you believe that, Tamara, then I have a patch of swampland to sell you in Louisiana as a prime resort property,” Don said, tickled. “Don’t be fooled for a second. Joel is running the program. Any deals will go through him.”
“Unless she begins to understand her worth,” Tamara added.
“Good luck with that,” Don said, still amused.
“So what do we do?”
“Sell to the highest bidder. Use the cash to stabilize our cash flow and to shore up operations on the East Coast and in the Midwest.”
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