He made the call. As he’d hoped, Kumar answered.
“I’m sorry for calling you this late.”
“It is no problem. How can I help you?”
Joel couldn’t come straight out and tell Kumar he needed cash, and millions of it. He’d have to slither into the conversation, minimizing suspicion, fully aware that he might be Zarah’s husband but that Kumar held the purse strings as the Bengali estate’s executor. “DMI is going through a rocky transition with integrating Harmonious Energy. You can imagine how difficult it is to blend two robust companies together with little support from the board of directors.” True, except Joel left out the part about his resigning as CEO and no longer being in charge. There was no integration path. Don planned to divest DMI of Harmonious Energy as soon as a suitable buyer surfaced. Kumar didn’t need to know.
“Merging with your company is very important to Musar. He wants to make sure Zarah is provided for now that he’s in the next stage of life.”
Joel had tried, a little, to live with their religion and failed. He recalled Musar describing life as a burst of energy that changes forms as a person moved from life to what Joel knew as death. Hearing Kumar speak in the present tense, as though Musar were around the corner, was spooky, but not spookier than being broke and without a company to run. He could go along with the energy theory if it deposited a bucket of money on his doorstep. Leprechaun, tooth fairy, or burst of energy would work if it was delivering the goods. The notion of Joel reaching out to his God attempted to squeeze into his mind, but he bashed it down and kept talking. “We’re several months into the merger, and it’s clear this is a much larger effort than realized. I’m wondering, if we need additional funds to assist with the merger, is there any way we can count on your help? Like you said, I know Musar would want Zarah to be secure.”
“We don’t have much leverage now that you own Harmonious Energy.”
“Is there anything you can do?”
“How much money are you seeking?”
No way was Joel going to give the real number of four hundred million and raise the alarm before he had an opportunity to mitigate it. A fraction of the total was best. “One hundred million.” It wasn’t enough, but the goal was to see if Kumar would release some of Zarah’s inheritance early. If he could get Kumar to agree on one hundred, two or four wouldn’t be so difficult.
“It is a great deal of money.”
Joel waited for Kumar to continue. After a pregnant pause, he couldn’t take the waiting any longer and broke the silence. “What do you think? Can you help?”
“We don’t have many funds available for you, but I could connect you with our bankers again. They could secure you a loan.”
Joel cringed; it was a good thing Kumar couldn’t see his face. The nightmare that had ensued three months ago was still raw. He’d borrowed money from Kumar’s bankers to pay Uncle Frank’s investors. The payment had to be wired into the investors’ account by midnight. Joel was dependent upon the bank. As fate would have it, a computer glitch at the bank, mixed with the time difference, had been the cornerstones in his demise. Painfully, the bank didn’t complete the transaction until twelve twenty A.M. The twenty minutes cost Joel the Southern division since it was used as collateral on the loan. No one at DMI knew about the deal, and he’d resigned before they could find out. His anger still brewed thinking about how the investors had stiffed him on the deal. Taking out a loan from anyone wasn’t his preferred choice. He wanted money from the Bengali trust and felt entitled to it. His entire world was destroyed the moment he acquired Harmonious Energy and married Zarah. Musar transitioned, died, or whatever, as a happy man knowing his daughter was safe. Joel craved the same joy in seeing his dreams come to pass, one of which was being a key player on the international stage. His strategy in merging the companies wasn’t wrong. It was his execution. He’d do a better job managing this time around. “We don’t want to take on more debt at this stage. What about accessing Zarah’s inheritance just to get us through the tough transition period?” There, he’d said it; what a relief.
“That is not possible.”
“Why not?”
“Musar incorporated firm rules for the inheritance.”
He didn’t have to be reminded of the terms. Joel had read each line repeatedly. There had to be a loophole. Getting Kumar to agree was his best shot. Dragging Zarah’s family to court in a foreign country, for access to his wife’s money, wasn’t viable, although he would have considered the option if there was any chance of succeeding. He didn’t think there was and let the notion of filing a lawsuit drop. The option of asking for the funds directly wasn’t dead yet, though it was crippled.
“I would think Musar would be okay with us using funds if it meant protecting Zarah.”
“I would like to help you, but it’s not possible. She can get her full inheritance in five years.” Joel couldn’t process five years. His body wouldn’t allow it.
“No exception?”
“Well, there is the one exception,” Kumar said. Joel knew where he was headed but let him finish anyway. “If your marriage is terminated, she receives the full inheritance immediately.”
“You know that’s not what I want to hear.”
“No, I would hope not.”
“No other provisional clause to help me at this critical point?”
“I’m most sorry, Joel. We can do nothing. Musar was very certain of your abilities. So much that he made no provisions for failure.”
Thanks for the vote of confidence, Joel thought; a lot of good the gesture was doing.
The call died along with Joel’s hope. Without the funds he had no leverage with Don on purchasing Harmonious Energy. The only hope remaining was to get Zarah to sign over the West Coast division. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
His mind was overloaded. He had to take a break, preferably before Zarah returned. There wasn’t enough of him left to share today. He had to get recharged. There was only one place to make that happen. A month ago he would have hopped on the corporate jet and been in Chicago within a few hours. No longer having the luxury, he had to take a commercial flight or make the five-hour drive—actually four, if he took the Lamborghini. He grabbed his keys from the desk. He’d dash upstairs, pack an overnight bag, and hit the road. Detroit would be in his rearview mirror and the Chicago skyline on the horizon.
Then he remembered that he’d better call Sheba to make sure she was in town. Otherwise there’d be no cause to go. They’d spoken a few days ago and she hadn’t mentioned traveling, but he’d confirm. He got her on the phone. “Sheba, my girl, what are you doing the next couple of days?”
“Working hard on this expansion. Fifteen new boutiques in four countries is exciting and consuming. You know how it goes with expansions.”
Actually, he didn’t know how it went but longed to. “Sounds like you’re pretty busy.”
“I am, but I always am. You know that.”
“Too busy for me?”
She laughed out loud. “What do you think?”
“That’s what I needed to hear. I’m on my way.”
“Okay, but I have to ask. What about your wife? I know how concerned you’ve been about her recovery. Are you sure this is a good time to take flight?”
The timing wasn’t right. But the reality was that it was never going to be with Zarah. He didn’t have to worry about the future and solve every problem in the marriage at this very moment. This time was about his sanity. He had to take this break. He needed his muse. “She’s much stronger and doing much better. As a matter of fact, she’s out shopping as we speak. The staff will look after her for a few days. Between her assistant, our housekeeper, and our cook, she’s in good hands. I’m not worried.” He shook off his guilt, rationalizing that he was a husband, a business mogul, and a man with real needs, not a babysitter.
“Your decision.”
“Done, I’m on my way. Now, how long can I stay?”
“Oh come on, y
ou know we don’t put our time together in a box. Stay for as long as it makes sense, one day, ten days—we’ll go with the flow, no strings attached. You know how we do,” she told him.
He knew exactly, and that’s why they worked.
chapter
38
Abigail walked down the street reading signs overhead in search of a café nearby. Tamara had asked to meet with her at eight thirty. Interactions between the two had gone well when Tamara initially arrived at DMI. Their rapport became strained when Tamara pushed past Abigail to fill the vacant seat on the board of directors. The fact was, Tamara was a Mitchell. Abigail understood why Tamara would be a candidate for the board of directors. What she didn’t get was Tamara’s eagerness to take the position at a time when her brother desperately needed to be surrounded with knowledge and experience. Of all the occasions to assert her Mitchell clout, Tamara picked the worst. Abigail set her personal opinion aside in support of Don.
Ten minutes early, Abigail entered the café, peering through the crowd, looking for Tamara. In the corner farthest from the door, she spotted her. Tamara saw Abigail at the same time and beckoned for her to come over.
“I’ve worked in the building eight years and never knew this café was here. It’s cute. I like it,” Abigail said, sitting at the two-person table.
“I stumbled across the café last week. I’ve been here every day since.”
They were silent. An awkward moment lingered. The silence was broken when Tamara asked, “What would you like to drink?”
Both ladies went to the counter. One ordered tea and the other a latte. They chatted as they returned to the table.
Abigail had a heavy day starting late in the morning. She had to get into the office. “I have a busy day. So I won’t be able to stay more than a half hour with you.”
“Then I’ll get right to the point,” Tamara said. Abigail had been curious about the purpose of Tamara’s meeting ever since she got the call last night. “I’m sure you’ve been wondering why I asked to meet.”
“I have been.”
“I’ve given a lot of thought to the current structure of the company and to my role,” Tamara told her. “I’m thinking about breaking out on my own.”
“Really? Doing what?” Abigail said, taking a sip of tea while listening intently, wondering where Tamara was headed in the conversation.
“Running DMI.”
“What do you mean? Don’s running DMI.” Abigail’s words were tripping over one another.
“I understand, but please hear me out before you make a judgment.”
Abigail was speechless. She couldn’t possibly be sitting across the table from another Mitchell trying to undercut their own brother in his CEO role. She’d listen, but unless Tamara cleared up some major misunderstanding, the conversation was going to be short.
“I’ll need you to explain exactly what you mean when you talk about running DMI. I hope it’s not what I think you’re talking about.” She stirred her drink. “I have to be straight with you. Don is a dear friend and longtime business colleague. I won’t betray him.” Abigail doubted that Tamara was aware of Joel’s brewing plan to take over a portion of the company. Sadly, Don was unaware of both. She’d kept quiet about Joel’s plan, unwilling to share unsubstantiated threats with Don. He was knee-deep in recovery efforts and didn’t need the extra drama.
“I understand your loyalty to Don. I admire it, but when are you going to step out of the shadows of the Mitchell men?”
Abigail set the cup down and her gaze burned into Tamara. “We’ve had this conversation and I’m not having it with you again,” she said, grabbing her purse, which was hanging across the chair.
“Wait, please don’t leave until you hear my proposition.”
“I really don’t have much time,” Abigail said.
“Then I’ll talk fast. My father ran the company, then Joel, and now Don. Every Mitchell man alive and over the age of twenty has run the company, and what’s the state of DMI?”
“The company is in its current state because of Joel. Your father and Don had nothing to do with what’s going on with DMI.”
“My father was the one who put Joel in charge.”
Abigail couldn’t dispute that fact. Telling Tamara that Dave felt led by the Lord to make the decision would bear no fruit. Regardless of the reasons, Joel had bungled DMI, making it difficult for anyone to see merit in his appointment. “What does this have to do with how Don is running the company today?”
“The men have run the company for forty years and done a terrible job, including my father. My mother was just as loyal to him as you have been, and how did my father repay her? By leaving us for a younger woman. That’s not going to happen to me. I believe it’s time for the women to take charge.”
“What women are you speaking of exactly?”
“Me, you, and possibly Sherry.”
Abigail burst into laughter. She roared on for a short while. Tamara wasn’t amused. “You can’t be serious. Even if there ever was a takeover orchestrated by the women, I can’t see the scenario making sense without Madeline. She is a fixture in DMI.”
“My mother is a part of the old, failed administration. I’m looking at adding a new perspective, fresh blood, new ideas.”
“You actually believe Madeline is going to let you take over the company along with Sherry?” Abigail wanted to laugh again, but Tamara’s serious disposition forced her to hold off on the humor.
“I’m not talking about a takeover. Joel hasn’t left much to take over. I’m talking about pooling our stock ownership. We’d have twenty percent between the two of us. If we decide to add Sherry that takes us to forty-five percent. We’d have to be taken seriously. We’d have a legitimate voice wielding serious power.”
“I would never go against Don.”
“Nothing else has proved successful long-term. Why not let us take a shot at being in control? We’d have a solid voice, and I’d expect to have my say.”
“And who exactly do you see leading this posse?”
“Me, of course. As a direct member of the Mitchell family, I see the lead spot as rightfully mine. After all, I’m the oldest living heir of Dave and Madeline Mitchell. I deserve a chance to run the company without having to take orders from people who haven’t been able to get DMI on track. It’s simply my time.”
Abigail remained in awe of the words coming across Tamara’s lips. She couldn’t process them. Pure common sense wouldn’t let the words enter her mind. “This is crazy. I can’t sit here any longer.”
She stood with one hand resting on the table. Tamara pressed Abigail’s hand down gently, causing her to pause. “Abigail, think about this. You could finally have a voice. I wouldn’t just talk about getting you a seat on the board of directors. I would make it happen, day one, not one day. Can either of my brothers say that?” Abigail didn’t respond. Tamara kept on talking. “Don has been in charge for weeks. Why hasn’t he officially made your recommendation to the board? He let me take the spot instead, right off the street. I know my experience doesn’t warrant the title, but I’m not going to sit around waiting for my shot to come knocking at my door. Sometimes you have to claim it. I wanted the seat. I asked for it. I got it, straightaway.”
“Because you begged for it.”
“No, I didn’t beg. I asked and he gave it to me. There wasn’t an ounce of resistance. He didn’t stage a big protest on your behalf. He didn’t fight me at all.”
“You’re a Mitchell. You were more entitled to fill the temporary position than I was.”
“Precisely my point. There’s always going to be one or two Mitchells ahead of you. If it’s not Don, it’s Joel, or Sherry, or my mother. I’ve been gone for a very long time and within a week of being in town I have an office on the executive floor and a seat on the board of directors. How long has it taken you and your loyalty to get both?”
Abigail had heard enough and was ready to leave, though not because Tamara was lying. I
t was the truth shoving her from the café. “You might be right, but I’m not going to backstab Don for anyone. He’s been a good friend to me. I won’t betray his trust.”
“Suit yourself.”
Her attempt to leave wouldn’t be delayed. Abigail hustled to the door, almost gasping for air once she made it outside. She was fueled by uneasiness. Listening to Tamara lay out the scenes of her DMI life so casually, but accurately, made her sick. She walked aimlessly for several blocks, consumed by Tamara’s comments. Abigail contemplated her place in the Mitchell family and didn’t like how she felt. Changes had to be made. She still wasn’t willing to undercut Don but was no longer willing to let her success depend on what happened with the Mitchell clan. Her walk slowed to a comfortable pace. She could see DMI about three blocks away. The building seemed dwarfed by the massive city skyline. There was so much more to the downtown landscape, more than she’d noticed before today. Thanks to Tamara, she was seeing from a new vantage point and the view looked promising.
chapter
39
Betraying Don was heavier than Tamara had anticipated. She ordered a cup of tea for this round, something different, and a raspberry scone. Don had been her constant source of support during her time alone in the wilderness. He hadn’t abandoned her when it would have been easy to do. She pondered their relationship and contemplated changing her plan, but the urge to run a portion of the company, whereby she could prove her worth, wasn’t to be ignored. The memory of last week’s board meeting disaster was the impetus she needed to venture out on her own. She suppressed her guilt and decided to move forward. It wasn’t difficult; she’d become an expert at suppressing unpleasant feelings and memories. That was one area where she didn’t require mentoring.
Tamara finished her snack at the café. She might not have had Abigail’s endorsement, but that wasn’t going to deter her. She was going to plan B: buying the West Coast division from Zarah. The division was small, a great place to start her corporate career. She hailed a taxi and slid inside.
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