by Tina Martin
“Yeah. I heard her.”
“How is it going at the office?”
“It’s fine. Besides the first-floor coffeemaker crashing, everything is fine.”
“Are you sure about that? People get cranky when they haven’t had their morning coffee.”
“I get cranky when I haven’t had my daily dose of you.”
Emily smiled big. “Seriously, Dante.”
“Yep.” After a few seconds of silence Dante said, “Hey, when were you planning on coming home?”
“Saturday. My flight leaves at six.”
“In the evening?”
“Yep.”
“Okay. So you’ll be there for another week, basically.”
“Yes. Why? Are you planning a house party while I’m gone?” Emily asked with a smile on her face. “Don’t want me to come back and catch you in the act.”
Dante smirked. “No. I’m asking because I miss you, I don’t like the way we parted and I don’t like the way I feel without you here with me. You, Ezra and our little one inside of you.”
“Aw, Dante,” Emily said, her eyes watering. “You’re going to make me cry.”
“Don’t cry. I—I was so upset with you before because I was thinking about you possibly not wanting the baby and it hit me that maybe you would try to get rid of my baby without telling me.”
“You know me, Dante. I would never do something like that.”
“I know. My thinking was flawed because something similar happened to Dimitrius. His ex had an abortion and to this day, I don’t think he got over it.”
“Well, just believe me when I say I will never do that to us. Part of the reason I kept the pregnancy a secret is because I didn’t want you being extra protective of me…wanting me to completely change my life and routine because of the pregnancy. I know I have to do it. I guess I was fighting it because I want to be a success at everything I do, including being a mother and wife.”
“I know you do, sweetheart, and you are. I just don’t want you to work so hard because it’s not necessary. I’m your husband. I’m the breadwinner. I work hard, carry the load and stress for us. That’s not your responsibility. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, Dante. I understand.”
“Okay, well listen. I have a meeting in a few minutes. Have a good time with your family. Kiss Ezra for me and I’ll talk to you a little later on, okay?”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you too, sweetheart. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Dante smiled, felt a wave of relief and excitement all at the same time. He couldn’t wait to see the look in Emily’s eyes when he showed up at her parent’s home. For now, he had to knock a few items off of his agenda.
From: Dante Champion
To: Tennyson Tillman
Cc: Dimitrius Champion; Desmond Champion
Subject: ! URGENT: Turn this around quickly
Tennyson,
I need you to get a couple of investigation-style background checks on the following individuals:
Florence Ludwick
Harding Champion
Call if any questions.
Thanks,
Dante Champion | Chief Executive Officer
The Champion Corporation
_________
Chapter Nineteen
Dimitrius stepped inside Dante’s office with his tablet, five minutes prior to the meeting’s start time of ten. He took a seat at the conference table, leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.
“Did you get a chance to talk to Des or Kurt?” Dante asked.
“Talked to Des…gave him the numbers.”
“Good. Just to keep you in the loop, I’m flying out to Jacksonville tomorrow. Won’t be back until Saturday.”
“Going to be with Emily and Ezra, I take it.”
Dante smiled. “Yep. I miss my family.”
“They’ve only been gone a few days.”
“Doesn’t matter. When you love someone, you have a right to miss them no matter how long they’ve been away.”
Dimitrius sat up. “Let me ask you something…if you found out Emily was texting an old boyfriend, how would you react?”
“Am I to assume this about you and Melanie?”
“You can if you want to.”
Dante smirked.
“Well, I guess my reaction would depend on the nature of the text messages.”
“Let’s say one of the messages from was him telling her that no other man would ever have her heart.”
Dante smirked. This was the second time Dimitrius brought up the subject, so it must’ve really been eating at him. “Okay, Dimitrius, who made the first contact?”
“He contacted her. She doesn’t have his name or number stored in her phone. She said he just started texting her after he saw her at the museum with Grace.”
“How did you find out about the texts?”
“I just so happened to look at her phone when it beeped and saw a message. Right away, I knew it was from Scott. I read the entire exchange between them.”
“And?”
“And what?” Dimitrius asked.
“I’m sure Melanie shut him down, so why are you so angry?”
Dimitrius hung his head. “I never knew I would have these trust issues after everything that went down with my ex and the baby and all. I look at Melanie and I know she loves me and even in those text message exchanges, she told Scott to stop texting her at least three times. And then we got into an argument this morning about it…told her I wasn’t coming home tonight.”
“Whoa, Dimitrius. All because her ex decided to send her a text. You can’t blame that on her. I mean, I could understand if she was the one initiating contact with him, but you’re telling me it’s not like that.”
“No, it’s not.” Dimitrius sighed again. “It got so tense between us this morning, I had to take a step back and let things cool down a bit.”
Desmond and Kurt stepped inside of the office, both with their tablets.
“Good morning,” Kurt said, taking the chair next to Dimitrius.
“Good morning,” Dante and Dimitrius said together. They’d have to resume their conversation later.
“Thanks for getting me those numbers so quickly, Dimitrius,” Kurt said. “I appreciate that.”
“Not a problem,” Dimitrius said.
“So, what did you come up with?” Dante asked Desmond and Kurt, eager to get a resolution on this issue before he headed out of town.
“First, I’ll start off by saying, this is perhaps the most stressful marketing plan I’ve ever done,” Desmond said, “And that’s mostly due to the fact that I know how much GHC means to you, Dante.”
Dante nodded.
“Kurt and I were able to work up a plan, but not sure if you’re going to like what we came up with.”
Kurt distributed handouts while saying, “I’m going to jump in here and say, that Grieving Hearts Connect brings in an annual net profit of two million dollars. Most of that two million is from the second quarter – April, May and June – and from the third quarter – July, August and September.”
“When you say most, how much does that translate to in dollars?” Dimitrius asked.
“Eighty percent of the two million,” Kurt said.
“That’s eye-opening,” Dante acknowledged, “But don’t forget the subscription services online. While two million may not seem like a lot, GHC remains the most profitable business venture for The Champion Corporation, followed by eRoll, due to its online subscription model.”
Kurt nodded. “Exactly. Now, since reservations are extremely low in the fall and winter, coming up with a strategy to fill those vacant rooms is a good plan of action. But the question becomes, will opening up GHC to the masses increase those fall and winter bookings?”
Desmond brought his hands to a steeple.
Kurt glanced around the table to see if anyone had feedback.
“There’s no doubt in my mind that opening up GHC t
o the general public would boost bookings and thus, raise profits,” Dimitrius said. “What we need to discuss is if we can do it in a way that will maintain the integrity of GHC as a grief retreat.”
“We can,” Desmond said, “But only if we market it as a one size fits all retreat. As it stands, we offer one-on-one therapy sessions, group therapy, grief counseling, massage therapy, water fitness, pilates and health and beauty services. We can offer these services, all year round to the public, but only if we change the name of the resort. I don’t know what that name would be, but it cannot be Grieving Hearts Connect if we’re going to move forward.”
“Why insist on a name change?” Dante asked.
“Let me explain it this way,” Kurt said. “We’ve all been to KFC before, right? When you go to KFC, you’re not going to get a hotdog. You’re not going to get hamburgers. You’re going to get chicken, right?”
“Right,” Dante said.
Dimitrius nodded.
“Exactly. The name of the company denotes that what they do best is chicken, just like the Grieving Hearts Connect brand denotes that they cater to grieving hearts. Therefore, to appeal to the masses, a name change has to occur–one that doesn’t advertise a specific purpose.”
“Got it,” Dante said. “I’m not opposed to a name change as long as it’s seamlessly marketed as such. We’ll need a new website, new logo, new mission statement, new business cards for Steven and his team, not to mention all the legal work that needs to be done behind the scenes. Looks like I’m going to have the legal department busy this month.”
“So, you’re good with this?” Desmond asked, eyebrows raised. He thought for sure Dante was going to kill the name change idea before he and Kurt could pitch it.
“I am. To grow as a company, we have to make these kinds of changes. That’s what life’s all about, right? Changing, evolving.”
“So, we’re actually going to do this?” Desmond asked.
“Yes, we are. I’ll come up with a timeline for the transition while I’m out of town.”
“All right,” Kurt said, closing a folder while feeling a sense of accomplishment.
“Didn’t think it would be this easy, huh, Kurt?” Dante asked.
“No. I did not.”
“Me either,” Dimitrius said, “But I’m glad it was because I have to get out of here early today.”
“Think I will, too,” Desmond said. “Need to make sure Sherita’s okay.”
“Well, looks like we’re done for now, gentlemen,” Dante said. “I’m sure they’ll be plenty more meetings to come on this.”
“No doubt,” Desmond said.
“Kurt, Desmond, good job as always,” Dante told them.
Kurt stood up. “Thanks, man.”
Desmond stood up, too. “All right, gentlemen. I have to get back on the grind.”
“All right, Des.”
Desmond followed Kurt out of Dante’s office.
Dante focused his attention on Dimitrius who was still sitting at the conference table. “You good?”
“Yeah. I’m good.”
“Still thinking about Melanie?”
“I am.”
“Let’s face it–our wives are beautiful women. You know they get looks and catcalls wherever they go.”
“That’s different, though. She was in a relationship with Scott, which means, at some point in time, she used to love him.”
“Used to. Now, she’s moved on. Think about all the women you were involved with.”
“Women I’ve cut off all ties with. I’m certainly not texting any of them.”
“Well, according to what you told me, the only reason Melanie texted him was to tell him to stop texting her. Is that right?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
“Then, to me, it looks like your problem is with Scott–not Melanie.”
Dimitrius nodded. Dante was right. His problem was with Scott, and such being the case, it was time for Scott to be put in his place. And he was just the man for the job.
Chapter Twenty
Melanie jogged down the stairs when she heard the doorbell, trying to get there before it went off again. She didn’t want the noise to wake Grace.
She lifted the peephole flap and saw Gino standing there in a black apron. He came ready to cook, but there was no need to cook today. It’s not like Dimitrius was coming home. She opened the door to tell him this. “Hi, Gino.”
“Hello, Mrs. Melanie,” Gino said, stepping inside walking swiftly to the kitchen. He came ready to cook.
Melanie followed him to the kitchen, watching him stand at the sink, turn on the faucet and rub his hands together under the running water. He pumped soap in his hands and repeated the scrub. Then he snatched a paper towel and dried them thoroughly.
“Haven’t cooked steak for Dimitrius in quite a while. Must be a special night.”
“Um, Gino…there’s no need to cook dinner tonight.”
“Sure there is, Melanie. You have to eat don’t you.”
“Yes, but Dimitrius isn’t here and I doubt if he will be here this evening.” I know he won’t be here this evening.
“Sure he will,” Gino said in his usual upbeat tone.
“I don’t think so, Gino, so don’t bother cooking. Okay.”
“I’m confused.”
Ugh. She hated to tell Gino her personal business, but how else could she get the man to stop cooking. “Dimitrius and I got into an argument this morning and I don’t think he’s coming home after work.”
“Then why did he call me and tell me to cook this particular meal. Steak, potatoes, broccoli with cheese. He even had me pick up an expensive bottle of red wine to go along with this deliciousness.”
Melanie frowned. “Are you sure?”
“I’m positive, Mrs.” Gino smiled.
“Oh.”
Gino chuckled. “I still remember how Dimitrius’ face lit up whenever he talked about you. I’m referring to before you were married, but I still see it now. It was just odd back then, you know, because he was a bachelor. A pure bachelor. But the man only knew you for a week and told me he was going to marry you. Just like that. I was floored…thought he was out of his mind.”
Melanie grinned. “I can’t believe he used to talk to you about me?”
“Of course he did. Whenever I would come over here to cook for him, he would talk about you. Told me how he avoided you for nearly a year before he decided to take the straightforward approach. And my goodness…now you two have this beautiful little daughter. She’s an angel, I tell you. A sweet, little angel.”
“Thank you, Gino,” Melanie said, still clueless about what was actually going on. So Dimitrius was coming home? After the argument they had this morning that was pretty much over nothing? She’d even took measures to make sure Scott didn’t call her again.
After Grace was up from her morning nap, Melanie ventured to an electronics store, got a new phone and number. Scott couldn’t text her now. She hated to change her number because that meant informing everyone that she did so. And then people would want to know why. Still, she went through with it because apparently, just telling Dimitrius she loved him and only him wasn’t good enough. Her word wasn’t good enough. Her husband seemed to be struggling with some trust issues and she tried to be understanding of him, but his temper flared every time his eyes met hers.
“Gino, how long have you been married?”
“Sixteen years now,” he said, rubbing a mixture of seasoning on the steak.
Melanie smiled. “Sixteen years. Wow. When I see couples who’ve been together for a long time, I wonder how many fights they had to endure. How many arguments came with those years? Then I think about how the good must’ve outweighed the bad. Otherwise, they wouldn’t still be together, right?”
“You’re right,” Gino said. “I’m not going to tell you it was easy for me and my wife. At one point, we found ourselves arguing over the dumbest, most asinine things you can think of.”
Mel
anie grinned. “Like what?”
“I would leave my shoes in the wrong spot, or she would park a certain way in the driveway that didn’t allow much room for my car. Silly nonsense like that.”
Melanie nodded.
“Listen…I’ve been working for Dimitrius going on three years now. I know he’s a little rough…comes across as stern…hard to take at times. But trust me when I say this, little lady. He loves you. Marry people argue. So what? You smooth it out and keep it movin’.”
Melanie smiled. “You’re so right. Thanks, Gino.”
“Not a problem, my dear. And as a special treat for you and Grace, I’m making my infamous strawberry cheesecake for dessert.”
“Sounds delicious already. Speaking of Grace, I’m going to head upstairs to check on her. She’s probably up by now, and with the smell of food permeating the house, I’m sure she’ll be ready for a snack.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t you worry about me, Mrs. I’ll be fine in here. This kitchen is my second home.”
Melanie laughed and walked away, heading up the stairs.
* * *
Dimitrius hated the fact that he had to expend energy on Scott. Like a private detective on the prowl, he found out everything he needed to know about Scott on the Internet. Scott lived in a two-level white home with green shutters on West Chapel Road. His wife was a bank teller. He was in insurance sales – had his own office and all – which is where Dimitrius found himself at five in the afternoon. He’d left the office early to drive to Scott’s place of business and was sitting in his car for the last few minutes debating on whether to go in or wait until Scott came out.
Since patience wasn’t his virtue, he pushed the door open and stood up tall after getting out of his Maserati. He buttoned his suit jacket and walked to the front door of the small trailer-like office building. He pulled the door open and a bell chimed – not a digital bell, chirping sound from an alarm system or some type of motion detector. There was, literally, a silver bell hanging from the door. Old school style.