16. Salinger
16
SALINGER
“ W here’s your cute assistant?” Fitz asks.
He sidles up to me after I’ve shaken hands with and said goodbye to the representatives from Quantumcore, a chip manufacturer looking to build a factory on the West Coast. It was a successful meeting, and there was no pushback on any of the terms. The paperwork for my signature should be on my desk on Monday.
“Shit,” he says, “did you already find a replacement?”
Before I can verbally slap Fitz down, Scarlett is already sauntering over. “We’re going to have a celebratory dinner, Salinger—you coming?”
“I have other business to attend to, unfortunately. Nice work today, by the way. I understand you leveraged your network to ensure the deal went through smoothly. That’s the kind of dedication we need at Rainier Equity.”
She smiles modestly. “It was just a few phone calls.”
“Scarlett, are you riding in the Uber with us?” one of the younger coworkers asks.
“Duty calls.” I incline my head, dismissing Scarlett.
“So, you’re going to be out another grand this weekend?” Fitz throws an arm around my shoulder.
“Mandy’s going to quit.” I turn away, but Fitz follows me through the lobby of the Soundview Hotel, an old, renovated canning factory. “She was crying in the bathroom earlier.”
“The devil of the West Coast strikes again.”
Outside the oversized steel windows, the sun is setting. The lobby buzzes with people heading back from meetings or out for dinner.
I weave around the large, low-slung leather chairs.
After a childhood of navigating the unhinged whims of my megalomaniac father, I relish moments like these, when everything is going according to plan and I am completely in control.
Well, except for Mandy.
And that . Crawford gives me a lazy salute from across the room.
A scowl settles on my face. “What’s he doing here?”
“Trying to increase my security for better insurance rates.” Fitz grins. “Surprise! It was Aaron’s suggestion. He thinks it will help the merger go more smoothly.”
My gait skips. “What merger? I am the largest investor in Cascade Hotel Group. You cannot perform a merger without my sign-off.”
Fitz pats my arm. “It’s dumb to have two different hotel groups in the same family. We’re in early negotiations with Grayson Hotel Group. ”
“You can’t be serious. You want to merge your company with our brothers’?”
“Just putting out feelers.” Fitz rocks back on his heels. “Diversifying is a good thing.”
Aaron Richmond offers his hand. “Nice to see someone else on the receiving end of an unasked-for family reunion.”
“Thanks for coming into town.” I shake his hand.
“I needed a break from New York.”
“Or a break from your brother?” I glare at Crawford. “Unfortunately, I can’t seem to escape mine.”
“I’m not going to be able to escape mine, either,” Aaron says. “He wants in on the port contract. Thinks he can hook up tidal-energy generation to it.”
“See?” Fitz slaps me on the back. “Aaron’s changing with the times.”
Aaron scowls.
“You don’t even have to run the numbers to know that it would be better for the port deal if Richmond Electric was involved,” Crawford interjects.
Aaron’s scowl deepens.
“This better not be a surprise port-contract meeting. You know I don’t appreciate surprise agenda items.”
“No,” I assure him, “just the Harborview Heights development.”
“Liar.” Aaron inclines his head.
Coming out of the elevators is Benji Isaacs—on his arm is a pretty young woman I don’t recognize. He notices me staring and an oh-shit expression forms on his face. He pats the hand of the young woman with him then hurries through the crowd over to me.
“Salinger, didn’t expect to see you here.” He pumps my hand .
“Family in town?” I ask casually.
“Er, not exactly.” He draws me closer. “Claire’s got quite the social media following—TikTok, Instagram, that sort of thing. Always posting. She could make things”—he looks around nervously—“difficult for me if this gets out.” He shoots a guilty glance at the bored-looking young woman. “You understand?”
“I see.”
“You know, Mr. Isaacs,” Fitz says smoothly, “the hotel does have a rear entry whose use can be arranged for guests who require more security.”
“Ah! Discretion.” Isaacs taps his nose.
By some unseen signal, one of the concierges makes his way over to Isaac’s woman friend.
“And on that note, does Mandy, by any chance, know you’re conducting evening meetings?” Isaacs asks meaningfully.
I don’t need to approve of him. I just need him to sign the contract , I remind myself. “She’s busy and doesn’t want the boring play-by-play of my business meetings.”
Isaacs lets out a relieved laugh. “Absolutely! She doesn’t want to hear about boring business matters.”
“Speaking of”—I transition easily—“have you met Aaron Richmond, COO of Van de Berg Insurance?”
Isaacs shakes Aaron’s hand. “Been meaning to schedule a meeting with you, son.”
“Rainier Equity works with them often on larger jobs,” I say. “I highly recommend them.”
“You should come meet the board of directors,” Isaacs offers. “We’re having a meeting tomorrow, then some of us are going out for a nightcap after. You should join—you, too, Salinger. Bring Mandy. Bring your girl as well, Aaron. You’re not married, are you?”
“No, sir.”
“Smart man. That’s for the best. Don’t let them talk you into it.”
The concierge has Isaacs’s non-girlfriend waiting in a small alcove.
“Tomorrow, I’ll have Claire text Mandy the details. Make sure she comes—Claire will want someone she likes there. It’s dog friendly.” Isaacs mimes slicing his throat.
“Then I’m absolutely sure she’ll be happy to attend,” I tell him.
Isaacs slaps me on the shoulder, and we shake hands again. Then the concierge escorts Isaacs down a back hallway.
“You punk,” my half brother says behind me.
“Fuck off, Crawford.” I whirl around to face him.
He just laughs. “Guess you didn’t come clean to Aaron.”
“Shut up.” I clench my fists.
Aaron, the paranoid and hyper-risk-adverse insurance broker, has his hackles up. “What do you mean? Didn’t tell me what?”
“Calm down. Crawford’s being a dick.”
Crawford gestures after Isaacs. “Salinger’s playing fast and loose with a multibillion-dollar deal that is precariously hinged on Mandy.”
“Why are you in my business?” I snarl at him.
“Just offering some brotherly help.” My brother’s smile is toothy.
Aaron’s eyes narrow. “What do you mean, the deal hinges on Mandy? ”
Crawford spreads his hands. “Scuttlebutt is that Mandy’s about to quit. She didn’t even show up to the Quantumcore chip-factory meeting today.”
“She never misses a meeting, not even when she’s sick,” Fitz adds.
“And if she’s friends with Claire, she can badmouth Salinger and tank the deal,” Crawford says while I plot his murder. “You heard the man. He’ll do whatever Claire says.”
I can practically hear the alarm bells going off in Aaron’s head.
“They’re being histrionic,” I say. “My assistant isn’t quitting—she was just busy. Mandy will be there tomorrow.”
“You know I do not like to leave things to chance,” Aaron warns.
“Look, I’ll have a meeting with Mandy in the morning. I’ll explain everything. She’ll be fine. She’s my assistant. She’s not going to quit.”
“The odds are not looking good,” Crawford tells Aaron.
“The odds are fine,” I insist.
I can tell in Aaron’s view, the odds are clearly unacceptable.
“Call her now,” he says. “She better be at the dinner tomorrow, or I won’t be.”
If Van de Berg doesn’t provide the insurance, it will be a struggle to find a large-enough firm to cover it and meet all the government regulations without the rates being astronomical.
“I have it under control. I’ll meet with her and—all right, fine. Calling her now.” I cut of Aaron’s protests.
The phone rings… and rings. I am very aware of Crawford watching. He’s going to report all of this back to Greg and Hunter .
When the call goes to voicemail, Aaron glowers.
I send Mandy a text message.
“Maybe she’s asleep,” Fitz offers.
“Or maybe she’s about to quit,” Crawford adds.
“I have it under control.” I call her again. And again. And again.
Crawford is about as giddy as a stone-cold killer can be.
I swear. Loudly. The voicemail message kicks in. “Mandy, answer your goddamn phone!”
“Not so loud—this is a nice establishment,” Fitz complains.
“Let him swear.” Crawford snickers. “He’s about to lose that port contract, and it’s going to be an even bigger flaming dumpster fire than Svensson Investment.”
I call her again. I can already feel the port contract slipping thorough my fingers all because Mandy is yanking my chain.
It’s my own fault…
I squash the guilt.
The call connects. I suck in a breath to chew out her voicemail again.
Then Mandy yells, “Gosh, what is your problem, Salinger? I told you I was out.”
“She’s coming in hot.” Crawford smirks.
“You don’t get to dictate the schedule, Mandy. You come when I call.”
“I’m so sick of you, Salinger.” Mandy sounds screechy. “I’m sick of all of you entitled bullies who just take and take and take.”
“Stop being such a child. Where the hell are you?” I can’t help the fury in my voice.
“About half-a-bottle-of-tequila deep. ”
“Get in the office.”
“I am not coming into the office.” The words are enunciated and final. “I will see your bright and smiling face in the morning.”
“The fuck you will.”
“You’re a big boy,” she slurs angrily. “You are fully capable of sucking your own dick.”
“The hell did you just say to me?” I’m losing control—of my temper, of the contract, of Mandy, of the whole situation.
Aaron is frowning, probably running calculations as I dig this hole deeper and deeper, jacking up the rates on the premium. Every second I can’t bring Mandy to heel is costing me hundreds of thousands of dollars.
“Mandy, you better be in the office when I get there in an hour, so help me—”
The call disconnects.
Fitz sucks in a breath through his teeth. “Yikes, man, you really pissed her off.”
“Guess he’ll have to get on his knees and beg for her to cooperate.” Crawford rests his hands on his belt.
“No way she’s going to that dinner,” Fitz scoffs.
Aaron is slowly shaking his head.
“Or you could buy her flowers?” Fitz suggests.
“I’m not buying her a gift. Or flowers.” I barely have myself under control. “Aaron, I swear—Mandy is going to that dinner with me even if I have to throw her over my shoulder and carry her there.”