As she arrived at work, he immediately accosted her. He started talking about how they didn't get enough attention in their division and implied that it was her fault because they lacked proper leadership. After that comment, she went off, calling him an overpaid jackass and all sorts of colorful names. Everyone tried their possible best to stay out of her way after that.
"Miss Wordsworth?" April's assistant, Hannah, peered her head through the door to her office.
"What is it?"
"Uh...Miss Joselyn is here to see you, and she says it's important. Should I let her in?"
"Depends. Is she wearing that ugly cream blouse again today?" April asked deadpan. Hannah stuttered, unsure of how to respond to what her boss said.
"Well? Is she?"
"N-No ma'am, she's wearing pink today."
"Ugh. Fine, let her in." With a wave of her hand, April said, "Wait!" She stopped Hannah, who turned around, eager to get out of range from her boss.
"Stop wearing whatever perfume that is. It's nauseating."
"Oh...noted, ma'am," Hannah responded, and left the room.
April rolled her eyes after her assistant left. She knew it was a bit mean of her to say what she said, but she couldn't seem to help herself from mouthing off. Joselyn was her second-in-command, and she handled all the news they had to put together and came to April for the final approval before they ran it. The only thing she had no part of was April's Nest.
Joselyn entered the office quietly. She knew that April was generally lovely and friendly, except when things did not go her way. April had pulled her blonde hair back into a ponytail and was concentrating hard on her laptop.
"Good morning April," Joselyn greeted.
"There's nothing good about this morning, and it's the worst," April responded and sighed loudly before turning to face Joselyn, who stood awkwardly, staring at her.
"What is it?"
"You might get mad..."
"Of course, what else is new? Just talk."
Joselyn hesitated before walking up to April's desk. She placed her iPad in front of her.
"What is this?" April asked as she stared at the headline of a story: "BUSINESS TYCOONS ENDORSE HEINZ?"
"The Rubies ran this story, and we had no idea that it was even a thing, and—"
"You're telling me a story this big was out, and you had no idea until those pieces of human shit from the Rubies ran it?" April's voice was not as loud as she intended it to be. Joselyn stared at her and opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again.
"I told you that you might get mad..."
"Joselyn..."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I—"
"Get out, for now," April snapped. Joselyn dashed out of the room quickly, sure that she was going to get crucified later.
April sighed and grabbed the iPad. It was her father's face on the front page, and she was dead sure that was done on purpose by the head of the Rubies. The picture was of her dad, Doug, and a completely new face leaving somewhere together. She skimmed through the story and had to lean back into her chair from the impact.
Professor Heinz was a significant influencer in US policies and politics. He was a renowned professor of economics from Harvard and was hated by Christians, especially for his influence in the abortion law, giving women body autonomy. He was also influential in some tax policies. He was currently speaking about a new trade policy to help the falling dollar rate by making everyone obtain unique identification if they want to perform business.
The story emphasizes how strong her father's relationship was with the Christian society and how it will be affected if he signed off on them. Four other billionaires were mentioned but not emphasized as much. April was ticked off, but her attention was mainly on the new face next to her dad. He was handsome; from his body language, he seemed arrogant. The story had no mention of him, but she knew how to do research. It was her bread and butter.
She placed Joselyn's iPad down and cracked her knuckles then started searching the internet. After over an hour of scouring, all she found was his supposed name, Miles Cleveland, but nothing at all on the name itself.
April groaned in frustration because it felt like the entire day was out to get her. She was good at searching for anything. The fact that she couldn't find anything on him irked her to the bone. She stared at the picture of the guy again; he was wearing shades, and she wondered what color his eyes were. She shook her head free of the thought and grabbed her phone. There was only one other person that could find something that she couldn't.
___________
"Don't be ridiculous. You know just how much the church is important to me, I have told you in every interview. Do you think I would sign off on someone who doesn't respect that institution?" Harry said to the only reporter he ever allowed to interview him for anything.
"I hear you, but there have been several reports of you having several meetings with the four other billionaires, two of which have close relationships with Professor Heinz, and we—"
"Listen, listen...Conrad?"
"Connor, sir."
"Connor. I am a billionaire. I have other people around me who are billionaires as well; I also have other people from different walks of life around me. The same goes for those billionaires you say I had meetings with. They know all sorts of people. I can't possibly know everyone they know. I do not know Professor Heinz. We have had contact at certain functions, but that's probably the highest it has ever gone.
"This whole story that useless blog posted is ridiculous, and I don't have to respond, but I'm saying it now, clearly: I am not implementing that trade policy into my company." Harry had his phone blowing up the day before when the story was posted. Some sounded concerned, and some were borderline threatening. He could not understand why it was only his picture on the front page and not the other four. Doug did some quick damage control and got the reporter to show up that morning.
"There are some other questions concerning your recent endeavors. Your daughter—"
Connor was interrupted by the ringing of Harry's phone.
"Excuse me for a minute," Harry said and pulled his phone out to answer the call.
"Yes?"
Doug answered the phone. "Sir, I'm headed to the house right now with Mr. Cleveland." Harry heard Miles say, "Don't call me Mr. Cleveland!" in the background.
"Excellent. Did you finish the tasks I gave you?"
"Yes, sir. I'll admit it was difficult, though."
"As it should be. I'll see you soon then."
"Yes, sir."
Harry hung up and looked back up at Connor, who was writing down more ideas on what questions to ask.
"Shall we continue, sir?"
"No. This interview is over. I have a business to attend to, but I trust that you have gathered enough information. If you need anything more, reach out to my assistant. Have a great day," Harry responded curtly and left the room.
___________
"Why do you insist on calling me Mr. Cleveland? It makes me feel so old," Miles groaned, causing Doug to roll his eyes. Doug had no idea what his boss saw in the guy, and he was arrogant, cocky, and kind of annoying.
Following Harry's instructions, Doug had found ten excellent candidates for the trip to South Africa. Miles had irritated him first by rejecting eight out of the ten candidates and insisting that they go to India instead.
"I don't care how it makes you feel," Doug responded.
"Yikes...someone's touchy. You need to relax, Doug. Unclench those buttocks. Loosen up those knots in your shoulders."
"I don't have knots in my shoulders, for your information. I go for massages every two weeks. Also, don't talk about my buttocks."
Miles laughed and shook his head.
"Going to India should help. The food, the women, and even the culture are made just for people like you."
"We're going to South Africa, not India," Doug replied between his teeth, clenching and unclenching his grip on the steering wheel.
Miles gave him an odd look, then shrugged. "The boss will decide, I suppose, but just think about how nice a boat cruise to India would be."
"Are you out of your mind? A boat to India? Why on Earth..." Doug paused to regain his composure, keeping his eyes on the open road. "We're taking a private jet to South Africa. I don't know what you're talking about, but it's not this trip." His voice broke no argument.
Miles stared at him for a minute, then turned his head to the side and stared out the window, quiet for the rest of the trip.
Doug was glad for the silence as he drove the rest of the way to the Wordsworth mansion.
After five minutes, they arrived at the house. Miles got down from the car first and started a jog towards the house. Doug followed him as quick as he could, wondering what the man was up to.
"You're here," Harry said to Doug when he got into the home office. He eyed Miles, who was all smiles standing next to the boss.
"We're changing the exhibition location to India?" Harry asked. Doug fisted his hands, fighting the urge to punch Miles.
"Sir, Mr. Cleveland and I have been having arguments about this. I think the best place for the exhibition is in South Africa, especially based on the information we received."
"India is much more diverse! There are so many leads we could follow," Miles protested to Doug, then faced Harry. "I can feel it in my guts, and we will find what we need in India."
Harry pursed his lips and frowned, taking in what they had both said. He trusted Doug because he had worked for him for years, but the man could be stiff and stubborn sometimes. On the other hand, Miles was incredibly charismatic, and he had charmed his way into his inner circle.
"We already talked about this on the way here," Doug said to Miles, who looked at him like he was confused.
"You said what you said, and I gave no comment," Miles replied matter-of-factly.
"Alright, alright, stop arguing. I'll decide by tomorrow where we will go. Doug, did you get the people I asked for?"
"Yes, sir. Ten of them. Although Mr. Cleveland here has taken it upon himself to reject eight out of them even after I told him that decision is up to you."
"Oh?" Harry faced Miles. "Why did you do that? Anything wrong with them?"
"Not particularly. I just don't think they'll last very long, but the decision is up to you, of course."
"Hmm…" Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar that Doug helped him light. "Have you gotten the—"
"Miss, you can't—" The door to the office swung open, and April stepped in with one of Harry's bodyguards following her, looking flustered.
"There you are, Dad," she said and gave her dad a wide smile. She glanced around and rested her gaze on Miles, who was staring a few feet down.
"Daddy!" The little girl April was holding ran towards Miles and crashed into his legs in a tight hug.
"What...what is the meaning of this?" Harry asked, staring from his daughter to the little girl then to Miles.
"You didn't tell me you hired someone already, Dad," April said and made eye contact with Miles. "Hello, Pierce Neumann."
"What?" Doug exclaimed and looked at Miles, who was now standing still, holding the little girl and staring at April, who was not done speaking.
"Yes. The same Pierce Neumann who was on trial for espionage, and won, then disappeared."
"How do you know this?" Harry asked his daughter, who gave him a smirk.
"You know me, Dad. I'm resourceful. What you should be asking is how this man managed to stay under the radar for five years and also if he was guilty of the crime he was accused of."
"Is this true?" Harry asked the man whose identity was now a dangerous thing.
"Yes. Eric was my older brother, and I was only there to pay my final respects, but then I learned about the cause of his death and you, and I just had to find out more."
"You deceived us," Doug accused, appalled that he had been tricked in such a manner. He never liked that man from the start, but he was willing to work with him since his boss had hired him, but he was sure Harry would fire him with the new information.
"I did not exactly deceive you, and I just omitted some truths."
"This is unbelievable. Sir, what do you think about this?" Doug turned to his boss, flabbergasted.
"I am honestly, incredibly impressed," Harry answered with a laugh. Doug and April looked at each other, then back at Harry, who blew out a cloud of smoke and chuckled as he walked to the back of his desk. He sat down and unbuttoned his suit, then stared at Pierce, who was now carrying his daughter.
"I followed your case. Everyone thought you were going to prison for sure, but you managed to slip through the cracks. I'm not thrilled about the lies, and I will not tolerate another one...but I still want you to work with me."
"Dad, you can't be serious—"
"Oh, but I am, pumpkin. Since you're here also, we might as well get you up to speed."
Doug stared back and forth from Harry and Pierce. There was some sort of weird admiration that his boss seemed to have for the former alleged conman. It rubbed him off wrong, but there was nothing he could do about it.
"And who is this little angel?" Harry asked, peering at the girl who was openly gaping at them all.
"This is my daughter, Robyn," Pierce said and bopped her on the nose. April watched as her father and the new guy started chatting like they were old-time friends. She could tell that Doug was not at all pleased, but there was nothing he or she could do about it.
8
Chapter Eight
Sugarland Regional Airport
Houston, Texas
The C-17 Globemaster III taxied to a stop on the airstrip. The massive engine looked set for airlift as some flight officers and engineers made preliminary checks.
Harry walked across the tarmac towards Miles, struggling to keep his necktie in place. If there was anything, Harry hated being caught less than fresh. He tucked the tie into place, but it grew a mind of its own and was having a field day flying over Harry's shoulder. From Miles's stance, Harry could tell the man was not just awestruck but enraptured. He smiled to himself; he had mastered the art of subtle persuasion. Here was Miles, having given up his ship dream idea and so eager to get on board the plane.
"Impressive, huh? Or I can gladly get you on a fishing trawler if it suits you!" Harry shouted over the noise of the plane engine as he approached Miles.
"I'm already enthralled by the thought of soaring at a seven thousand feet level in that massive machine," Miles laughed mirthlessly.
The two men watched in silence as the pilot and ground crew conducted the pre-flight check. Harry studied the man beside him; there was a quiet determination and resilience about him. So far, he had shown he could be precocious.
Harry cleared his voice to draw Miles's attention, and Miles turned around to look at him. "There were a few important details I missed out on, and I think it would be crucial on this mission you are about to undertake."
Miles folded his arms across his chest as she waited for Harry to say whatever it was he wanted to say, but Harry focused his gaze on the aircraft instead. His beard twitched as he struggled with some inner turmoil. After a few moments, Harry took his phone out of his pocket, and without as much as a glance at Miles, he handed the device to him.
Miles thought Harry was acting a little strange, but it took less than ten seconds after staring at the screen for Miles to know why. The blood was almost drained from Miles's face when he handed the device back to Harry. He looked as pale as a sheet as he stared off into the distance.
"Well, I didn't haul this F117-PW-100 steel beast down here for you to stand there basking in all its glory," Harry said to Miles and moved on to meet the flight commander to discuss other details.
Miles hung his backpack on his shoulder and made for the plane in slow, sure strides. He nodded at the flight commander as he made his way up the airstair.
Miles looked at Harry for some time before he went o
nto the plane. Somehow, he believed Harry had brought this plane specially, to encourage him to embark on the mission.
Once inside the plane, Miles made for the cargo area. This impressive machine was far more intriguing inside than it was outside. It was more than one story high with eight passenger seats and enough space to hold a bus, including several other cargos inside.
A hush fell over the group as Miles approached the rest of his team. There was silence except for the thud of his boots on the floor of the plane as he got closer to them. He held everyone's attention as he stood before the seats.
With his hands stuck deep into his pockets, Miles scanned his team and watched their expression. There were many questions in their eyes; there might have been fear also if they knew the last details Harry had shared with him. When no questions were forthcoming, he nodded his approval at them and walked down the aisle to the seat on the seventh row.
Miles was not one for pep talks or verbal motivation. It was as simple as possible; it wasn't his task to get anyone mentally ready for the mission. They knew what they had signed up for. They had had enough time to think about it as well.
The flight took off in thirty minutes, and the group clapped and cheered as the aircraft ascended into the skies. Miles kept himself busy going through his notes and maps. He was thankful he had the seventh row all to himself. He didn't have the time to engage in banter with the others.
Miles noticed the rather odd silence and raised his eyes to see what was going on inside the plane. His eyes met with another pair of eyes that were peering over one of the second-row seats. Whoever it was turned around quickly, obviously embarrassed from being caught staring at Miles.
In the second-row seat, there was a hushed conversation going on about Miles's silence and distancing.
"There's an uncanny resemblance between our team lead and some guy who made an infamous wave on the media several years ago," someone whispered loudly in the group.
"I can't be wrong," he continued. "He's the one; I wasn't sure until he looked at me again. He's Pierce Neumann."
The Lost Treasure of the Aztec Kings Page 7