Minnie Chase Makes a Mistake

by Helen MacArthur

  ‘Then who is the someone?’

  ‘I’m with, um, Greene. We are brokering an important deal.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Jackson knowingly. ‘Greene.’

  ‘Yes, Greene.’

  ‘The same Greene who had you Tasered and arrested and, wait, thrown in jail? I seem to remember collecting you from a women’s correctional facility not so long ago.’ Jackson kept his voice even.

  Minnie’s jaw set determinedly. ‘It’s not like that. We’ve moved on.’

  ‘Leaps and bounds, apparently,’ said Jackson dryly.

  ‘Lunch. Tomorrow. Promise,’ pleaded Minnie.

  Jackson sighed and shrugged. ‘These were for you.’ He handed Minnie the bunch of frolicking balloons.

  ‘I can’t,’ said Minnie.

  ‘Please, take them.’

  ‘What am I going to do with them?’ hissed Minnie, darting a glance back to the diner, conscious that Greene was a man who waited around for no one. ‘Tie them to the back of my chair while I attempt to close a very important deal?’

  ‘Then I’ll wait out here with them,’ said Jackson, undeterred. ‘No worries.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Look, it’s my way of saying thank you,’ explained Jackson. ‘You’ve turned me around. Remember what you said to me on the plane? “Someone who wants to be taken seriously as a professional athlete needs to live like one.” I found it easier to blame other people when I didn’t make the team rather than get stuck into training. Now I’m so focused, I’ve got the Invitationals…’

  ‘I have to go back inside now,’ snapped Minnie, cutting him off.

  Jackson looked hurt. ‘Do you want the balloons?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I seriously don’t mind waiting. There’s a bar across…’

  Jackson stopped mid-sentence as he saw Dragonet Wilson stealthily approach them, a sure-footed ninja locked onto his target. Over his usual combat attire, he was wearing a thickly padded, down jacket despite the warm night air. Minnie noticed that he didn’t even bother looking left or right for traffic as he crossed the road, which suggested he either had senses on a par with Superman or was confident that a car would fare worse in a collision with him.

  Wilson strode over and examined Jackson as one would a suppurating wound.

  ‘What’s going on, Minnie?’ questioned Jackson. Wilson now stood possessively at Minnie’s elbow.

  Minnie realised that a seismic shift had taken place in her world. She had become used to being on the receiving end of Greene’s heavy-handed security. Now it was like she was one of the team.

  Minnie turned to Wilson and said quietly, ‘I’m fine. Please go back inside.’

  Wilson, however, took a step closer to Jackson who squared his shoulders and took a protective stance next to Minnie.

  ‘Minnie?’ questioned Jackson once more.

  ‘Jackson, I think it would be a good idea if you leave,’ said Minnie nervously. ‘I’ll explain everything later.’

  ‘I think I should hang around,’ said Jackson not taking his eyes off Wilson. ‘I’m in no rush to be someplace else.’

  ‘There’s too much going on right now, Jackson. I need to think and focus,’ said Minnie losing patience. She turned away from him in the direction of the diner.

  Jackson grabbed Minnie’s arm, stopping her in her tracks. ‘Be careful, please.’

  Wilson immediately objected and stepped right up to Jackson, discreetly delivering a powerful solar plexus punch. Jackson sank onto his knees, still holding onto the balloons despite his obvious pain.

  ‘No!’ screamed Minnie, shocked.

  Jackson gently keeled over until his head rested on the ground.

  Minnie dropped down beside him. ‘Jackson, are you okay?’

  Jackson, winded, couldn’t speak. Minnie gripped his shoulders. ‘Jackson?’

  He shook her off and straightened up, struggling to gulp down some air.

  Wilson stepped forward.

  Jackson stood his ground. ‘Don’t touch me,’ hissed Jackson, heaving great breaths, shoving his face into Wilson’s.

  Wilson, though, possessing the ultimate warrior confidence of an ex-SEAL in combat, was infuriatingly unbothered by Jackson’s intrusion into his personal space.

  ‘Back. Off!’ roared Jackson.

  ‘Stop it!’ screamed Minnie.

  ‘Ma’am?’ The Dragonet questioned Minnie for further instruction.

  Minnie shoved her way between the two men and placed a gentle hand on Jackson’s arm. She could feel his muscles tensing and knotting under her fingers. ‘I’ll call you later,’ she said.

  ‘What are you doing, Minnie?’ asked Jackson, shaking his head in disbelief.

  ‘I’m doing the right thing.’

  ‘Are you? It doesn’t feel right.’

  ‘Please, Jackson. Let’s talk about it later.’

  ‘Talk about what?’ spat Jackson. ‘You seem to have it all figured out.’

  ‘Jason,’ screamed Minnie, resorting to the name his father used to express disapproval over the son he wanted but never had. She was desperate to get through to him. ‘Just leave me alone.’

  Jackson flinched as though Minnie had slapped him across the face.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ whispered Minnie, placing a hand over her throat. ‘I’ve no idea where that came from.’

  Jackson shook his head. ‘I know exactly where it came from. Go back inside, Minnie Chase. Go back to where you belong.’

  Minnie, mortified, turned on her heel and ran back across the road to the diner.

  Minnie flung herself back into her seat opposite Greene, flustered and upset. Wilson looked unperturbed at the recent ruckus. Greene looked irritated at the interruption. ‘Who was that? What is going on?’ he asked.

  ‘No one,’ said Minnie. ‘Nothing. Let’s get back to business.’

  ‘He looked aggressive.’

  ‘Wilson punched him,’ snapped Minnie, ‘which obviously doesn’t bring out the best in people.’

  ‘Wilson is trained to protect.’

  ‘I don’t need protecting.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  Minnie stared at him. She thought about Dr Levchin and could feel the colour drain out of her. It was as though Greene was reading her mind.

  ‘Jackson is a friend,’ she explained focusing on the coffee cups, unable to look at Greene.

  ‘Please accept my apologies,’ replied Greene smoothly. ‘I will reprimand Wilson.’

  ‘Let’s just move on,’ said Minnie, feeling thoroughly depressed about the whole incident. She picked up her pen. ‘This fast multipole is of great importance. Let me explain.’

  As she was talking, she glanced up briefly in time to see Jackson let go of the balloons. There was an excitable flurry of pink and white as the balloons cavorted and danced higher and higher into the night sky.

  Minnie experienced a piercingly sharp stab of sadness as she watched Jackson walk away.

  Her evening with Greene ended on a complex matrix. She put down her pen and said, ‘Please credit and compensate Jones & Sword for the other research done to date.’

  ‘You no longer work at Jones & Sword. You don’t owe them,’ said Greene in a cut-and-dried tone.

  ‘It’s not about the boss; it is about the other people in the team who worked hard on this proposal, which is still relevant to the deal.’ She shrugged. ‘At the end of the day, I wasn’t the right fit.’

  ‘I don’t need Jones & Sword. You seem to have it covered.’

  Minnie smiled. ‘I’m happy to take the credit for one incredible game-changing algorithm.’

  ‘I would demand more.’

  ‘What’s done is done,’ shrugged Minnie philosophically.

  Greene extended a hand across the diner’s plastic table. ‘You underestimate your own importance. Nine months has been knocked off the deadline. You’ll be compensated accordingly.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Minnie, briefly taking his hand.r />
  She wanted to ask him how he was feeling but the timing was off; he seemed much happier to be back in the world of business – a welcome escape from the real world. She could relate to that.

  22

  Show me the money

  Minnie woke up the next morning in a strangely reflective mood verging on melancholic. After her meeting with Greene at the diner, she returned to the motel alone and had fallen asleep on top of her bed with her clothes on. At some point during the night, she had pulled the covers over her but had no recollection of this.

  This would be the last time she would wake up in this room. Her flight back to London was later on that night. She would be reunited with James George. She had well and truly forgiven him.

  She should have been feeling on top of the world but seemed to be crushed under the weight of it instead. She couldn’t understand it. She had come to San Francisco and done what she had set out to do. She had made great progress with Greene. She had arranged to meet him at his office later in the morning to key in some final code that would correspond with her handwritten notes and calculations. He never once mentioned her public speech or reprimanded her for not issuing a denial of his disease. Her furious outburst when he was drowning his sorrows seemed to resonate with him more.

  Parker Bachmann was on good form too. She even found time in her hectic schedule to suggest that she and Minnie should meet for lunch. Minnie accepted because it was looking increasingly likely that Jackson wasn’t going to take her up on her offer – he had disappeared off the face of the earth. Minnie repeatedly called him and sent texts but there was no response. Voice messages didn’t seem to get through to him either. She would return to London without saying goodbye. This saddened her because he was the one person, aside from her parents and Angie, who saw the best in her and not the worst. He had only ever wanted to help her. She had hurt him in return. She felt as though she had taken advantage of his good nature and sunshine disposition.

  Or perhaps he was a more forgiving man than she gave him credit for. As she stepped out of the lift to go to her meeting with Greene, she discovered there was an enormous bouquet of flowers waiting for her in the foyer. The receptionist grinned. ‘Someone wants to impress you.’

  Minnie matched the grin; the melancholic mood lifted. This is how she wanted to leave San Francisco – a proper goodbye with Jackson. Then she thought about James George. In that order.

  ‘Guests will be thinking we’ve gone five star,’ giggled the girl behind desk in delight, ‘or that we’re hosting a celebrity wedding.’

  It was an eye-poppingly bright sight. There were enough poppies stuffed into the elaborate flower arrangement to fill an entire field.

  Minnie eagerly read the card and then lost the grin, replying simply, ‘Oh.’

  It said: Welcome back to Jones & Sword.

  As she knew all too well, news travelled fast in her world. Greene had wasted no time finalising the deal and probably suggested to A.A Jones, in no uncertain terms, that Minnie should get her job back. Armed with this information, Minnie eyed the poppies in a new light. The exotic blood-red blooms looked as though they would send her to sleep forever and she would never make it home.

  ‘I’m returning to London tonight,’ explained Minnie hastily to the receptionist, ‘therefore, there is no point taking the flowers up to my room. Would you like to keep them in reception?’

  Minnie had never been to Greene’s office in Silicon Valley. There was a definite buzz about the place. It was business as usual. She was shown to a private elevator, reserved for Greene’s use only, apparently, and immediately rocketed up to the top floor.

  Greene was waiting for her. His opening line wasn’t ‘hello.’ He said instead, ‘I’d like to set up a charitable foundation.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Minnie.

  ‘You seemed surprised.’

  ‘Well, I suppose I am,’ replied Minnie carefully. He hadn’t mentioned Parkinson’s. She didn’t want to presume.

  ‘You’re lucky,’ answered Greene deadpanning. ‘Nothing – and no one – surprises me anymore.’

  ‘Tell me about the foundation,’ said Minnie.

  ‘Parkinson’s Inc.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Minnie, acutely aware of her restricted vocabulary.

  Greene frowned. ‘I thought you would be pleased.’

  ‘I am,’ replied Minnie hastily. ‘I think it is a great idea.’

  ‘But?’

  ‘It sounds like a business model.’ She shuddered and thought about Levchin.

  ‘It is,’ said Greene. ‘I intend to raise enormous amounts of money for research.’

  ‘Would you consider putting your name to it – to make it more, um, real?’

  ‘More personal, isn’t that what you mean?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Minnie. ‘I suppose it is.’

  ‘You need to stop prioritising people over making money.’

  ‘Then we should finish the natural gas deal,’ said Minnie stiffly, changing the subject, ‘if making money is so important to you.’

  ‘Greene Parkinson’s,’ said Greene reluctantly.

  Minnie shook her head. ‘It sounds too environmentally friendly. There is nothing friendly about this disease.’

  ‘Most people find it easier to agree with me,’ said Greene with a hint of a smile. ‘You should give it a go.’

  ‘Parkinson’s Greene,’ said Minnie ignoring his advice.

  ‘Greene looked doubtful. ‘It sounds like Golden Gate Park for Parkinson’s. One of the natural wonders of the world.’

  ‘It sounds like a place where people can come together,’ said Minnie, refusing to be intimidated. She felt more confident than ever now she was leaving. It was a feeling she could get used to.

  Greene wrote down a number on a piece of paper and slid it across the polished boardroom table towards Minnie. It seemed like a very legal procedure; negotiating a settlement, although there was no one else in the room to advise Minnie.

  ‘Payment for the algorithm,’ stated Greene. ‘This is a one-off amount. You sign the details over to me completely. It means that you are not entitled to any future profits from the natural gas deal. Does this seem fair?’

  Minnie took a sharp intake of breath when she saw the amount. Holy shit, she thought shakily. It seemed more than fair.

  ‘It includes an additional $200,000,’ explained Greene. ‘Levchin’s fee for the research he wrote suggesting I had stress instead of Parkinson’s. I’m not publishing his paper. In fact, that man doesn’t deserve a cent. Think of it as compensation.’

  Minnie flinched at the mention of Levchin’s name.

  ‘You need to file a complaint with the police,’ urged Greene, noting her reaction. ‘I have the voice recording. Levchin has been informed that I have it.’

  ‘It will not be admissible in court,’ said Minnie. She had thought about this a thousand times.

  ‘I have a formidable legal team.’

  ‘It is his word against mine.’

  ‘Fight back, isn’t that how it goes?’ said Greene, a reprimanding tone to his voice. ‘Or do you not care to practise what you preach?’

  ‘I care very much,’ said Minnie, stung at Greene’s suggestion. ‘I just happen to think there are more effective ways to expose – and hurt – Levchin, starting with Levchin Care Clinics. I’ve already started looking into his accounts and have made some very interesting discoveries.’

  Greene’s mood improved. He looked impressed. ‘In that case, the Greene legal team is at your disposal.’

  Minnie nodded curtly and turned her attention back to the piece of paper on the table. She thought carefully before she spoke, an action that still didn’t come naturally to her. ‘It is a very generous offer,’ she said.

  ‘How much more?’

  ‘How did you know?’

  Greene smiled knowingly. ‘People always want more.’

  Minnie wrote down a new number. It made her feel much better looking at the sequence. She slid the piec
e of paper back towards Greene. It was a solid, reassuring number bookended by two 1s: $1,000,000.01, much better.

  He raised an eyebrow. ‘It couldn’t be one million? It had to be an odd number?’

  ‘Odd to you, perfect to me.’

  Greene shrugged bemused. ‘I guess one extra cent won’t break the bank.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You need to work on your negotiation skills,’ said Greene, waving the piece of paper at her. ‘I would have gone much higher.’

  ‘Actually,’ said Minnie tapping her watch. ‘I need to go home.’

  Minnie didn’t leave the office there and then. She tried to persuade Greene to have lunch with her and Bachmann.

  ‘No, thank you,’ said Greene without missing a beat.

  ‘Free lunch,’ said Minnie. ‘I’m picking up the bill.’

  ‘I hope you plan to invest this lump sum and not squander it,’ chastised Greene. ‘I’ll put you in touch with a financial adviser who will talk you through some viable share options.’

  Minnie nodded. She wasn’t about to let him know that she had already spent the money in her head – a new marital home; somewhere where she and James George could start over. The cost of the wedding was now covered, as was the honeymoon fund. It was a life-changing windfall and a remarkable turnaround for someone like her.

  ‘I would still like to buy you lunch,’ said Minnie.

  ‘I don’t want to get married to Parker Bachmann,’ said Greene sharply. ‘It’s over.’

  ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t help orchestrate the perfect break-up,’ confessed Minnie. ‘The transportation of natural gas, yes, but I’m the worst person in the world when it comes to relationships ending; I want everyone to live happily ever after.’

  Greene kept his expression neutral but Minnie realised it was an insensitive remark.

  She quickly U-turned the conversation. ‘No matchmaking, just lunch?’

  Greene’s response was interrupted by a video call.

  ‘It’s your boss,’ announced Greene. ‘I made it clear to Ms Jones how invaluable you are.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Minnie, flattered and surprised. ‘How did she take that?’