“Yes, there was a bit of delay. There was a power outage earlier this evening.”
Joel’s renewed zeal was squashed. Worry crept in while defeat waited outside the door. Why hadn’t anyone called to give him a status update? Did they understand how serious this was? “Is it fixed? Is the money on the way?”
“The money is on the way.”
“That’s great news,” he said, feeling his racing heart beat begin to calm. “We have less than two hours before the banks close on the East Coast.”
“I will check on the progress for you. If they can’t get the wire completed tonight, they will do it right away in the morning.”
“No, no,” Joel shouted. “I have to get the money this evening. It’s critical.”
The attorney assured him the money was coming. The statement rang of legitimacy, but Joel wasn’t convinced. The situation felt dismal. Despair wanted to kick in. Instead, he opted to relish the rich taste of the past. He grinned as he reflected on the early days of being CEO, when everything he touched found favor. Those times were ages ago. He spent the next two hours checking the account every minute, maybe more. Nothing, no money, no confirmation, no luck. Finally, at five thirty, he logged off the computer, opened the door, and let defeat wrap around his neck, prepared for a long night.
Zarah was waiting in the library. She ran to him as he approached. “Can we sit and talk?”
“Not tonight. I’m tired,” he said, not able to concentrate on her disappointment. His concerns were grander, three hundred million dollars grander. She had to busy herself for the evening since he wasn’t in the mood for entertaining. The garage was the only haven he could think of that made sense. Defeat led the way.
chapter
54
Joel had been sitting in the garage for four hours at last count. He couldn’t go upstairs. Zarah was there. He couldn’t lament in the library. She was there most of the time, too. He couldn’t be sequestered in his office without fear of the mounting anguish overtaking him in the closed space. Eleven forty-five. He schlepped to the office one final time for the night. He was sure the money wasn’t there. He’d check anyway, one last time before midnight, before the loan was officially considered late. Nothing was posted to his account since the last time he checked.
Done, that was it. He laid his head on the desk and drifted away, not into sleep, just away from the situation. The phone rang at 12:20 A.M. rousing him from a weird state of being half asleep and half awake.
“Did you complete the process?”
He didn’t care to be cryptic. His company was virtually gone, no miracles tonight and no secret decoder conversation. “No, Uncle Frank, I didn’t make the payment,” he said with an intentional tone of agitation.
“I told you from the beginning, this is no small undertaking. No need to be upset with me. You understood the terms from the beginning.”
“Look, I have the money. There was a power outage earlier in India. That’s fixed and the money is on its way as soon as the bank opens this morning.”
“Whoa, hey, that’s too much information. I don’t want to know the details of your deal. It’s better for you in the long run. Don’t talk so freely on these calls. How many times do I have to tell you? The less I know the less I’d have to admit under oath,” Uncle Frank said, chuckling.
“Funny” wasn’t the word Joel had in mind for his dear uncle. “You’ll get the money in the morning.”
As they spoke, his computer chimed, the sound it made when a screen was being refreshed with new information. He blurred out Uncle Frank and tapped a few keys with the other hand. An email flashed. “We apologize again for the delay. The systems are working again. The transaction is ready for your approval.”
“Are you there?” Uncle Frank asked.
“Yes,” Joel said, distracted. He typed “yes” and immediately hit send. The money was on the way. A few minutes late wasn’t going to be a problem. He took a long breath. “Yes, uncle, you can stop the scare tactics. I just received confirmation that the money is being wired as we speak. I can pay off my investors and never be bothered with them or you again.”
“Not so fast, young lad. You had a deal that expired as of midnight tonight.”
“Sure, but come on. It’s barely after midnight, no big deal.”
“Oh, it’s a big deal. I made it clear that the most attractive component of this party was the interest and the collateral.”
“So what are you saying, that your investors expect me to give up one of my divisions because I was twenty-five minutes late paying them back?’
“Bingo, now you’re getting it.”
“That’s ridiculous. You know I can’t let that happen.”
“Oh, you will.”
“They’ll have to fight me for it.”
“That’s your choice. They tend to do well in the alley and in the courtroom. Let’s just say they have friends who sit in high places and low ones, too. Trust me, you don’t want a confrontation. I told you what would happen. If you wanted to borrow the money with an exception clause or a grace period, you should have gone to the banks and not to my guys. Pay up like a good boy and be done with this. Next time you might want to stick with Wall Street.”
“They’re crooks, too.”
“There you go, you choose.”
Joel had no choice. “Uncle Frank, I’m begging you to change their minds.”
“I can’t help you. This is out of my league,” Uncle Frank said without an ounce of concern. Firing Uncle Frank had been the right decision for DMI. But, as fate would have it, firing him wasn’t turning out to be the best seed for fostering grace with his uncle when it was most needed. “You should prepare to give up one of your divisions. Take the rest of the night and decide which one. And don’t worry too much about it, they’re not picky,” he said, erupting in full-fledged laughter before hanging up.
chapter
55
Don stopped by the office midmorning to see Madeline. The long night and mound of work didn’t damper his spirit, not today. He found his mother meandering outside her office on the executive floor.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the airport?” she asked.
“I’m on my way,” Don said, taking a quick glance at the time. “Her flight doesn’t arrive for another three hours.”
“I see,” Madeline said with a smirk.
“Don’t start.”
“What? I didn’t say anything out of line.”
“Mother, you know it’s not only what you say. It’s always been about how you say it.”
“Not today. I’m going to be on my very best behavior for Ms. Naledi.”
“We’ll see about that,” he said, igniting a spark of amusement in both of them.
Madeline beckoned for Don to follow her into the office. “I’m not the one you should be worried about,” she said. He knew she was referring to Abigail.
“What do you mean?”
“I know what I see,” she said, convinced there was underlying affection between him and Abigail. “Please close the door. You never know who’s lurking around.”
“I guess you’re right, especially if I can come and go as I like, although technically I’m the competition.”
“You have a right to be here,” she said, leaning against the window sill. Don took a seat and crossed his leg. “If it wasn’t for you, the doors of DMI would be closed. So you’ve earned the right to walk around here whenever doing whatever you want and nobody, I mean nobody, is going to say a word,” she told him, letting her index finger bounce back and forth in rhythm with her words.
He propped his elbow on the armrest and rested his head in his hand. “Do you remember how hard I fought to get away from God and the church?”
Madeline nodded in affirmation. “And now your base in the U.S. is comprised of the churches and religious groups who have left DMI. I told you time and time again: you were born to run this company. We can’t teach leadership as an organization unless w
e have a strong and sensible leader ourselves, and that’s you.” She rubbed the side of her head, flattening her hair. I’m not sure why God is taking us along the scenic route.”
“It wasn’t always scenic.”
“I agree with you there, but your time is coming, and soon. I can feel it.”
It was hard to believe his life had transformed to this place of running one company and being instrumental in saving the other, a place of romantic stability, at least there was the opportunity for it. He couldn’t help but feel grateful. “I wonder, what would Dad think about what’s going on now?”
“I can tell you that your father would be furious. He wouldn’t have tolerated Joel’s hypocrisy. That little man can’t decide if he wants to target the religious sector, which should be the case, or if he prefers to go anywhere he can turn a buck.”
“Actually, his merger with Harmonious Energy is based on religion.”
“That’s true,” she said, turning, “but a slew of religions wasn’t your father’s vision. If nothing else, he built the foundation of this company on his spiritual convictions.” She turned toward the window. “Your father worked his behind off to keep this ministry afloat during the lean years.” The volume in her voice dropped.
He sensed her mood change. “After all this time, you miss him, don’t you?”
Madeline spun the chair around and eased into her seat. “Your father was your father. He was my husband,” she said, twirling her Mont Blanc pen on the desk. “He’s the man I decided to build a family and a life with.” Don didn’t interrupt. She was well overdue for a cleansing. “He wasn’t a perfect man, by no means. Trust me, he gave me problems. Leaving me for Sherry was ninety percent of it, but he wasn’t a bad man. He made his mistakes, and Lord knows he paid for them. We paid for them.”
“You think Dad paid for them?”
“Your father paid in the toughest way. He lost what mattered to him, the trust and respect of his children.”
There were times when it didn’t seem like Dave had suffered while the lives of everyone else around him crumbled. In spite of that, when Don elected to forgive Dave he also made the conscious choice of forgetting—deciding not to hang on to the hurt, the bitterness, the rejection, the emotional seeds that produced a harvest of hatred in his heart. He’d let go and was hoping his mother had or would, too. “I didn’t get to tell him that I forgave him, but I did,” he told her.
Madeline reached across her desk, toward Don, not able to extend the entire way. The desk was too large. Don stretched out to cover the rest of the distance and touched the tip of her hand. “He knew you and Tamara both loved him. He did. He told me so right before he . . .” she said and sealed her lips, drawing her hand away. “Well, before he passed.”
Don shifted the conversation, trying to gauge where she was emotionally with his father. “Have you forgiven him?”
“Oh, heavens, yes,” she said immediately, twirling the pen again. “I have a big bark.”
“And some bite, too.”
“Okay, fine, some bite, too, but your father understood me. He didn’t get bent out of shape when I said what I had to say. That’s what I loved about him. I could be strong and not overshadow him.” Her gaze zeroed in on Don. “That’s one of the main reasons I never got remarried. It isn’t easy finding a man who can understand me without moping around because I unintentionally said or did something that bruised his ego. I’m too independent to coddle a grown man’s ego.”
“Speaking of finding someone,” Don said, quickly glancing at his watch. “I better get going. I don’t want to be late.” He sprang to his feet.
“Look at you,” she said. “Go on, get out of here.”
“I’m going.” He headed for the door, then turned to say, “You are a tough cookie. There’s no doubt about that, but you are an amazing mother. Always have been.”
“And always will be,” she added.
This was probably an opportune time to share Tamara’s proposal with his mother, given the candid mood she was in, but Don decided not. The situation had to be ideal, a day with perfect weather, perfect people, and perfect circumstances. Asking his mother to leave DMI for Tamara’s return was a feat that only God could truly perform without reprisal. That was a decision for another time, perhaps another life.
He trotted from the office, content. The DMI struggle wasn’t over but, then again, it wasn’t his to fight. This was on God. Don would just serve as he was led. The elevator door opened and Don darted in, eager to get to the airport and to Naledi.
chapter
56
Abigail watched Joel pass by her office as she reviewed the quarterly sales report. He didn’t poke his head in, and she didn’t call out for him. They were officially strangers, two people sharing the same workspace and nothing more. Being the executive vice president didn’t make avoidance easy. They had to interact on a professional basis. In an odd way, Joel had minimized the uneasiness. By driving so many clients away there was less business to discuss with him daily. Joel was on his own, at least for the moment, with folding in Harmonious Energy. It was his mess to fix.
Perusing the document, it appeared that losses for the East Coast division weren’t as bad as the other units. Abigail was puzzled and aimed to go upstairs to Madeline’s office for answers. While they were in takeover limbo, they had to continuously find ways to stay in business. Having Don inherit his father’s bankrupt company was pointless. She could slap Joel’s hand for being so reckless with their lives. Abigail entered the hallway and saw Joel standing near the elevator with a woman she didn’t recognize. Curiosity drew her toward the elevators. She didn’t look like the woman on the news with Joel, his new wife, but then again, Abigail had only seen her for a few seconds on TV, and briefly at the office last year with her father. What Abigail recalled was hardly enough to identify Joel’s wife in public.
Abigail approached the two standing there. Joel didn’t notice her standing behind him. The woman’s smooth bronze complexion with a hint of olive looked as close to perfection as one could get. Her eyebrows were thick, and appeared to have a natural arch, one Abigail had to pay twenty-five dollars plus tip twice a month to maintain. It also looked like permanent eyeliner had been delicately and precisely drawn on her eyelids. Abigail smirked. She unconsciously brushed across her own cheeks, hoping they felt as smooth as this woman’s appeared.
“I’m sure that we haven’t met. I would definitely remember you,” he said in his usual Joel kind of way. “What did you say your name was again?” he asked her. Abigail stepped into his view. His manner changed some but not much.
“Naledi Mophuti,” she said as Joel extended his hand precisely at the moment that Don came out of the break room carrying a bottle of water.
“Joel,” Don said, rushing to the circle and inserting his hand in lieu of Naledi’s.
Abigail stood in between the brothers, invisible. The focus was clearly on Naledi, the new woman on the scene.
“Big brother,” Joel said, clearly agitated by Don’s interruption. “I was introducing myself to our visitor.”
“She’s not a visitor. This is Naledi, my right hand in South Africa. She’s here with me,” Don said, putting his arm across her shoulder and erasing the space between them. There was no room for Joel to squeeze in. He backed off.
The brothers were like lions establishing claim on the pride and their lioness. Joel pushed the elevator button, as if to say that Don was ruling the pride for now. The younger lion might have to find another home unless he was willing to change his ways. Time would tell.
Abigail wanted to vanish; worse was that no one would notice. She did the only dignified act that she could. “Hello, Naledi, I’m Abigail. Welcome to DMI. I’ve heard many wonderful things about you.”
Naledi nodded in slow motion, with her neck tilted slightly. “I, too, have been told many wonderful things of you,” she said with an accent that sounded French mixed with something else.
It was hard
to tell her nationality. Her skin tone, eyes, and hair texture didn’t make it evident. To be honest, her nationality didn’t matter much. The dazzle, high cheekbones, full but not fat lips, and almond-shaped eyes set her in the exotic category on at least six continents, with Antarctica being the only one in question. Abigail wanted to dislike her on the spot or have a valid reason to feel uneasy about her, but there was nothing. No bad feeling, no unexplained negative reaction, nothing. She wore a designer suit that was fitted around her curvaceous bottom half. “Hello, Don,” Abigail said simply because she didn’t know what else to say. She prayed her inner thoughts weren’t evident in her words or disposition.
“Perfect timing,” Don said. “We were coming to meet you.”
Great, Abigail thought, just what she wanted—to make her day officially lousy.
chapter
57
Joel got in the elevator. His fury boiled although he fought to keep his anger concealed. Letting Don sense his vulnerability was instant death in the wild. He would maintain a controlled and in-charge disposition until his situation was rectified. This Harmonious Energy and investor business would pass as soon as Musar did. It wasn’t going to be long now and life could return to normal—his normal, the one he controlled and not his brother.
What a joke, he couldn’t help but think. Gradually, then abruptly, watching Abigail side with Don fed his fury. Don’s accession to so called bliss was too rapid and hopefully short-lived. The elevator door opened on the executive floor. Despair was waiting as Joel exited. He slapped it around a few times with a final kick out of his way. It would return but for now he was winning by a thin thread. He shook off the burden of the day and schlepped to his office, casting the image of Don, and the botched loan repayment attempt, from his mind, determined to let neither crush him.
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