Profit, p.3
Profit, page 3
“May I continue?” He waited for her nod. “Darcie loves Jeff, and she’d found out that he was ‘seeing’ someone behind her back. I wanted to go knock the guy on his butt. And no, before you say one more thing about loving her to make her feel better, Darcie and I have never done the tango between the sheets. Never wanted to. As hard as it may be for you to believe, we are just friends. I listened to her. I asked her if she thought Jeff was worth fighting for, if he was worth the risk of her heart. Because love isn’t worth a damn if there is no risk. No risk? Then it’s not love.”
Bryn looked at him, and there was something in her eyes, a question, or surprise, he wasn’t sure. But something he’d said must have caught her attention.
“She said yes, and I told her not to assume. Talk to Jeff and find out about this other woman. As it turned out, yes, Jeff was seeing her. Not in a romantic way, but as a potential vendor for his business. See what happens when you assume.”
He didn’t give her a chance to respond. “Beth Jackson, another friend. I believe I had a date with her after a meeting when we were at the conference in New York before everything with the Headman hit the fan. I remember you said something sarcastic about my current conquest when I left that day.”
She thought for a moment, he waited. She shook her head as if she remembered, but didn’t comment.
“Well, Beth is a friend also, in fact, all of the women in my contacts are friends. Beth, I haven’t known that long, but we met at a bar...”
Her snort interrupted him again. God, he loved when she did that, this elegant, if dainty, woman and her unladylike snort. He just wanted to kiss her. But he’d refrain for self-preservation.
“What? You don’t think a man can meet a woman in a bar and not take her home to play nasty?” He waited, and she just shrugged at him. “No, again, you’re wrong. She had tears in her eyes and I would have been the biggest jerk in the world to take advantage of her pain. And no, don’t you dare snort at me again.”
“I do not snort.”
“Yes, you do, and very delightfully.” He gave her a wink and she glared. “She’d just lost her husband. And not in a divorce but in an accident. They’d barely been married a year. They were happy and planning to get pregnant the next year, and then he was gone. She didn’t know what to do with herself. He’d left her financially stable, but her life was a shamble. I let her talk. I am a very good listener. We are still close friends. She isn’t ready to see anyone yet, but when she is, the guy will be one lucky son of a bitch and that guy will never be me. Neither one of us are interested in a relationship, with each other.”
She frowned at him. Did she not believe him? He could see she was struggling to determine if he was telling the truth. He could go through his contacts one by one. Some, he’d had a sexual relationship with, some not, but all were still friends, and all were not long-term relationships. How could he convince her?
“Would you like me to go on?”
“No. What would it accomplish? I have no idea if you’re telling the truth or just what you think I want to hear for some reason.”
He held the phone toward her. “Call any you like.”
“If they’re in your contacts, I’m sure they would give me the answers you want them to, but my question is, why do you want or care what I think about you? We’re coworkers. And we aren’t even in the same company, only under the WBA. We don’t have much contact, why would this mean so much to you?”
How much to say to her? She could break his heart, what he’d said earlier was true. Love wasn’t worth anything without risk. Was he willing to take the risk? Yes. Not only yes, but hell yes. He’d never met anyone like her. With the threat hanging over the WBA, now wasn’t the best of time, but the heart wanted what the heart wanted, be damned the timing.
“Because, I believe love is worth the risk...”
It was beginning to be downright discouraging how many times she interrupted him with a snort, as cute as it was.
“Love? You don’t know the meaning of the word.” She muttered and pulled herself from the couch.
“How do you know?”
He stood and went to stand in front of her. He looked down into her beautiful eyes. “Risk. I want to get to know you away from work and all the cloak and dagger stuff. And if you don’t want to go to dinner with me tonight, then let me help you sand, I am familiar with a sander, and I’ll order a pizza for dinner.”
When she didn’t say anything he added. “Please.”
* * * *
His please undid her. How had he known that she’d been instructed to take the risk. What are the odds that what her friend Garçon had advised her only minutes before Matt had arrived on her doorstep would come back at her from Matt of all places? Did she dare? He stood waiting patiently. Then she thought of what he’d said about his two friends.
Trust, such a fragile thing, in order to believe him she’d need to trust him. Had he given her any reason not too? In their work environment, no, he had not. Had he earned it in a personal way? She wouldn’t know until they got to know each other, so she could only trust him, for now, and apparently take the risk.
She looked to the cabinets; she really needed to get them done, but cleaning up for dinner sounded much more enticing. On the other hand working on her project would be an informal way to get to know each other better.
“Okay, sander and a pizza. And you better know what you’re doing with that sander.”
“That’s my girl. Okay, where do we want to start?”
Why did she have the feeling he wasn’t talking about the kitchen?
Chapter Four
Andrew Phillips thumbed through his notes. It had been longer than he’d wanted. The Humanity Economic Assistance Delegation or HEAD, a Utopian Group, should have been in the controlling power seat by now. Andrew liked to think his group was for the greater good of humankind.
For the last year and a half, he and some of the others had been hiding. The main characters of his organization had been vetted, trained, and then planted over eleven years ago in various branches of the WBA, they were still working, playing it cool, as if they were as devastated by the murders as the rest of the WBA family.
Andrew had planned for years for the perfect takeover, everything should have gone perfectly. A year and a half since that damn Headman had been captured. So far, the bastard was sticking to his insanity plea. The twisted former police officer couldn’t be trusted, at any time the law could come crawling all over—except he’d covered his tracks well. In the U.K., the only ID required was a signature, no photo. Couldn’t have been easier to lose himself in London, and then he’d moved on to Ireland. However, it was now time to move forward, they’d waited long enough. Things needed to happen.
Now.
A knock announced the arrival of the first of many who had been invited to his midnight planning party. He pulled the door open, smiled when he saw Marseilles Dupont the current CEO of the CISID, known for working with governments to reduce investment risk. She was well respected and extremely proficient at her job, she was an integral part of his plan.
“Come in Mar, I hope your trip over the pond was uneventful, come in, come in.”
“This isn’t a social visit, Andrew. You ordered my appearance or I wouldn’t be here, so get to the point.”
Andrew was truly shocked at her tone. “Marseilles, what’s wrong? I thought you would enjoy a trip to Ireland.”
“You’re right, I may have, had I planned it. But this is nothing other than a command performance. It’s been over a year, I assume this has something to do with the HEAD group?”
“Of course, it does. The others should be here soon. Why don’t you have a glass of wine?”
“Why? Because I need one?”
Andrew regarded her, she’d never had this much hostility before. Always been on board, but now it seemed she may have had a change of heart, he’d have to watch her closely.
“Oh, Andrew, don’t get that worried look, I am not bailing on you and your little Utopian plan. A little warning would have been nice. I actually had plans. You say act normal, go about your life. We do, and to have you interrupt with no warning is a little annoying to say the least. Be ready for the others to be unhappy also. It’s the holidays, this meeting couldn’t have waited until January?”
Andrew handed her two fingers of Jameson, a whiskey he knew she favored, better than the wine he’d first offered. Apparently, he’d miscalculated. He’d assumed his group would be willing for a family Christmas vacation to the emerald isle. Too late to worry about it now, his next guest had arrived.
“Colin, come in.” He’d been about to close the door, when he saw two more of the invited. “Samuel, Gavin, I’m glad you could both make it too.”
“Did we have a choice?” Colin asked, as he stepped through the door, tossed his coat over the nearest chair, and beelined for the bar. “Your only redeeming quality, Phillips, is your well-stocked liquor cabinet.”
“Agreed.” Gavin said, as he followed Samuel to the bar where Colin stood sipping a shot of Abelour Scotch Whiskey. “Not to mention an expensive well-stocked bar, a very nice redeeming quality. Every bottle of liquor in your cabinet carries a high two to three figured price tag. So, tell me Andrew do you indulge yourself, knowing that if your plan backfires you’ll find yourself in a place where you can’t afford luxuries?”
Gavin tipped back his glass and drained the expensive liquid, Phillips frowned. What a waste to be gulped like that. But Gavin wasn’t finished.
“You know, you’re always saying all of this is for the good of humankind. For god sakes, what are we, fanatics?”
Andrew ignored the question and clapped his hands to draw attention. “I don’t want to go into details until the others arrive, so enjoy yourselves and catch up. I am just finalizing a few things while we wait.”
Andrew settled into the chair he’d occupied before the others arrived and busied himself with the plan he’d been working on for weeks; mostly, he was reading it over one final time before he presented it to his troop. He wasn’t as confident now that it was set in motion. He’d thought he would be in control when he’d contacted The Dissolvor.
Another half hour passed before the other two had arrived. By then everyone had apparently gotten over their pique at the holiday meeting. Of course, the good expensive liquor had helped.
“Good evening, it’s late and I’m sure you want to get back to your warm beds. And tomorrow you’ll be able to explore this wonderful area. It’s so green and beautiful...” Andrew began.
“Get on with it, this isn’t a vacation.” Marseilles gulped the last of her golden whiskey and set the glass down with a snap.
Apparently, not everyone had gotten over the last minute holiday meeting. He needed to tread lightly, Andrew couldn’t afford to alienate these key players after all this time. That’s the problem with long-term. The balance of knowing how long was too long, and how long just the right amount of balance was before people lost interest and went off on their own.
“Grayson and Howard, I’m glad you were able to join us. Before I give you my update, do any of you have concerns, questions, or ideas of how to move forward?”
Andrew had always listened and tried to implement everyone’s ideas in with his own, it was a tribute to the success of their organization thus far. Good teams played and planned well together.
“Why now?” Colin saluted everyone. “We’ve been coasting along fine. That madman you hired ruined our plan as far as I’m concerned. Any other attempts to take out the key players will draw attention again. The special taskforce was on to us, they just didn’t have any hard evidence. If you don’t think they’re watching us every minute, you’re an idiot.”
Andrew swallowed his irritation. Idiot was he? Colin Daniels had stepped into the CFO position at the head of the World Banking Association when Jim Tanaka, the first murdered by the Headman, left the position open. Colin was one of the first to come on board, he’d been an idealistic kid when they’d begun, now it seemed he was a cynical man. However, back to Colin’s original question, he needed to convince the others that if they’d continued without stopping and waiting, it would have been idiotic. He inhaled and thought his words over carefully.
“And I’ve kept my eye on them also. ISIS is keeping everyone in the alphabet agencies busy.” Meaning the FBI, CIA, etc., he didn’t need to spell out who he meant. “They expected us to fold or follow up in a year or two. It must frustrate them to know who we are, but not be able to prove it. Well, it’s been a year and a half, they’ve most likely decided we’re going to put things off a little longer. Now is the time to set things in motion again.”
Andrew sipped his own drink and waited for any arguments, but it seemed at last they may agree. “Any other questions?”
Howard Mack, assistant director of investments for DIG, cleared his throat. “I’ve been wondering what we’re going to do about Matt Beckett.”
“Why? What makes you worried about him?” Grayson Colson asked.
Since Grayson was the Director of Finance with MGIA, if he was worried, there may be something to be concerned about. The finance guys of all the five entities of WBA worked closely together.
“Has he done something?” Andrew replied. “I know that being a part of DIG, Howard has more contact, but Grayson, you haven’t noticed anything, have you?”
“No, I haven’t, he seems carefree, as usual. If he didn’t have such a brilliant mind when it comes to numbers I’d wonder what Cameron Kohler had in mind when he hired him. When he’s at work he’s a force to be reckoned with, but the minute he walks off property in the evening he sheds the shackles of work like an unwanted pair of pants. He enjoys life. I can’t see him being a problem.”
Andrew turned his attention to Howard. “I had him investigated when I found out his connection to the FBI task force, he does not follow in the family footsteps. Has he done something to make you single him out?”
Howard seemed to relax. “No, I’ve just been watching him because of his connection, but haven’t dared voice my concerns. But I trust Grayson’s judgment. Matt is very close to Cameron, but I don’t see that as a problem.”
Grayson stood, poured another drink, and turned to face the others. “However, speaking of problems, there is an up and coming star on the scene. I checked her out; she’s been with the company for five years. Until very recently she’s just been a lowly junior accountant, then all of a sudden Megan Nygaard hired her to be the chief accounting officer of MGIA, and that wouldn’t worry me, except for the fact that Bryn Connelly fully endorsed the promotion. Quite a jump from junior to chief. I hear that they’re gearing up for a full audit. That makes me wonder if they’ve found a trail from one of us.”
“I too have heard about Toni Bruno, the new CAO, instead of speculating, I think we should let Andrew tell us why he called us here. Instead of meeting in Washington, why go to the expense of all of us traveling, with our families, no less, to Ireland.” Samuel Bowman spoke up for the first time since the meeting began. He stepped in after the second murder. He held the title of CAO of DRIB.
Andrew decided it was time to clue them in on his plan. This time it was fail proof.
“I’ve spent my time wisely researching. But before I go over what I’ve found, I think it’s time we do a little inside work.”
“Inside work?” Marseilles asked.
“Obviously, we can’t go in and murder the last three on the list. Have any of you ever discussed our ideas with any of your coworkers? I’m not saying you should radically suggest that the rich be brought down, and the poor brought up until everyone is equal. We’ve always known this would be an uphill battle. The rich and privileged will never agree to our plan willingly, and the poor need to be educated in order to better themselves. The WBA has the tools in place; after all, one of their main goals is to help the Third World countries.”
“So?” This again from Marseilles.
“Do any of you work closely with politicians in these other countries? Are they recruitable to our cause? My thoughts are that we subtly bring up our ideas on a very small scale at meetings, etc., then gently introduce the ideas. Don’t push, if there is resistance, back off. If no one pushes back, then the next meeting, introduce another idea along the same lines. Let others maybe take our ideas and run with them, build on them. Let them think it was their idea all along. Meanwhile, recruit leaders from other countries for education.”
“Wait. The education plan is already going on, that’s the big thing with WBA, educate these countries so they can be productive on their own without help from the WBA or other agencies,” Grayson said.
“True, but not educated for our Utopia. We need to direct everyone in that direction. As I said, I’ve been researching. It was very arrogant of me to believe myself, along with a handful of people with the same mindset as myself, could change centuries of thinking.” Andrew stood to finally pour himself a drink, because now came the hard part.
“So, we need more people, let it snowball. If you can recruit people within the entities, along with world leaders, of course being careful and selective, please do so. The rich aren’t going to embrace us with open arms. But once everyone understands our vision, sees that everyone is on equal terms financially and educationally, the world will see the rightness of our plan. No fighting, no murder, no chaos, just peace, who wouldn’t embrace the concept?”
“Andrew, we all know your vision and we all agree or we wouldn’t be in this room. I have already started to recruit; I thought I was making progress with Megan Nygaard until she promoted this Toni Bruno. Now, I’m not sure,” Grayson grumbled.
“Has this Toni person given you a reason to think she’s an FBI mole?” Samuel asked.
“Not at all, just the timing. And I swear someone has hacked into some of my spreadsheets.” Grayson shook his head. “Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”
Andrew glanced around at his small group, he still hadn’t volunteered the real reason for this meeting. They were smart; he’d figured some, if not all, had been subtly sharing their ideas since they joined WBA years ago. So why was he stalling? The Headman. He’d blundered with that decision, it was going to be even harder to introduce the next portion of his plan.
