Chapter 35. Maxim
MAXIM
“I cannot overstate the necessity of developing a circular economy—one that minimizes waste and maximizes our natural resources.”
It’s a different way of saying what I’ve been telling this panel for the past hour. This isn’t my first time testifying before Congress, but it may be my last.
“Could you elaborate, Mr. Cade?” A narrow-faced man speaks into his little microphone, peering down at me from his perch.
“Yes. In a circular system, we minimize waste, emission, and energy leakage by slowing and closing energy and material loops,” I say as patiently as I can.
“Not like in a more linear, traditional ‘take, make, dispose’ model. Economic circularity not only reduces resources used and waste and leakage created and conserves resources, but it also reduces environmental pollution.”
“According to the studies you provided,” says one congresswoman, glancing down at a sizable stack of papers, “China and Europe are taking the lead in this.”
“It’s true that most of the forward movement in circular economics is occurring in Europe and China,” I say.
“Europe tends to focus more on the environmental implications, but China is very much concerned with the economic by-products, too. Circular economy has been national policy for the Chinese since 2006.”
In other words, we’re lagging behind, guys.
“Concrete examples?” the first congressman asks, one brow elevated.
“There are many,” I answer. “But I think one of the best examples is in the textile industry. In fashion, it’s recycling clothes and fibers so they reenter the economy instead of ending up in landfills as waste.
Designers like Patagonia and Stella McCartney are high-profile examples of how this can work. ”
“And you’ve ventured into this yourself, correct, Mr. Cade?” another asks. “You’re making money through this circular economy.” It sounds almost like an accusation.
“Hand over fist,” I confirm unapologetically.
“Shoes, leggings, sports bras. You name it, and my company Wear It Again is making it over and over and over. We’re not only regenerating materials but profit.
We need these new ways of thinking if we expect to deliver on the emissions reductions commitments we and our global partners have made. ”
“This is all a lot to take in,” one of them says. “A lot to process.”
“Exactly, which is why I’d rather be discussing how we can reeducate America’s populace and retrain our workforce for green jobs instead of convincing you the sky is indeed falling.
We need to make this real for people. Like telling farmers global warming is contributing to desertification, which means lower crop yields. They’ll get that.”
I spend another thirty minutes breaking down things most of the interns in my companies could easily explain to these politicians.
Their ivory towers have chimney stacks, carelessly puffing poison into the environment.
I hope I’m not wasting my time “educating” them, but they haven’t delivered in the past at the rate and level I had hoped.
“If we don’t address these issues,” I say, “the socioeconomic implications are even greater than the ones we’ve already discussed.
Shifting ecosystems and natural disasters will cause poverty, hunger, homelessness, and disease and will disproportionately affect those countries already most vulnerable.
Quite frankly, in some instances, I believe we’re already too late and have to begin thinking of how we’ll survive , not reverse, the consequences of what we’ve done. ”
They ask more follow-up questions and look for ways to skirt the truth, but I don’t give them outs, and I counter every shortcut they want to take with hard facts.
“Let’s go,” I mutter to my assistant Jin Lei once the final question has been answered. “Quickest way out of here with as little press as possible.”
“As little” proves relative since a small cadre of reporters gather at the side exit we find.
“Maxim,” one reporter shouts, his iPhone shoved in my face. “Are you glad to be back in America?”
“I’m in America all the time,” I reply neutrally, eyeing the strip of sidewalk between the door and the SUV waiting at the curb. “I just don’t announce my comings and goings, but yeah. Of course, it’s always good to be home.”
“This is your fifth time testifying before Congress,” another yells. “And you serve with the president’s special counsel on climate change. Any chance we might see you venturing into politics?”
“Uh, no.” I laugh and start inching toward the car. “I’ll leave that to my brother.”
“Lots of rumblings about a presidential run for him,” the reporter says. “You’ve been very clear that you’re an Independent, not affiliated with either party. If your brother runs, can we expect you to support him?”
“I may be a little biased, but this country would be lucky to have my brother as president.” I take Jin Lei’s elbow and press forward. “I don’t pretend to know what he’ll do, but he’ll have my full support no matter what.”
I nod to the car and reheat the smile I’ve been using all day with the stalwarts in Congress. “Sorry. Gotta go.”
I allow their persistent questions to harmlessly bounce off my back while we stride to the car.
“Why are they always so interested here?” I ask Jin Lei, dropping my head back against the seat. “I walk outside in London, Paris, Milan—not a peep.”
“For one,” Jin Lei says, “they don’t see you as much.
Two and three would be your brother and father.
One is a soon-to-be presidential front-runner, and the other owns one of the largest oil companies in the world.
Americans don’t have royalty, so they’re interested in anything that comes close. Apparently, the Cades come close.”
I miss anonymity. Those days when the only people who really took notice of my existence were the students in my class when I was a TA getting my doctorate. My Kingsman days were simple, sweet. Though too few, my fondest memories from that season of my life are in Amsterdam.
“Is the new office set up?” I glance at the passing scene of downtown DC.
“Yes, sir.”
“Apartment upstairs?” It’s temporary, but I need my workspace within striking distance of where I sleep, considering how little I sleep.
“Yes, sir. Both are ready.”
“Good.” I rub my hands over my face. “Hell, I’m exhausted.”
“This was your last commitment for the day,” she says, her dark eyes concerned. “You hit the ground running.”
“I’m used to it. I’ll be fine.”
The hotel’s penthouse is marble floors, a wall of windows, and the height of modern minimalism. The elaborate arrangement of orchids on the foyer table is the only thing alive in the place. Everything else feels lifeless, impersonal, and outrageously luxurious.
“It’s perfect,” I say.
In the office, a plasma wall displays multiple screens—CNN, CNBC, MarketWatch, and news from international markets. I widen the feed so the entire wall displays the show I recorded.
“It was that political show Beltway you wanted the recording of, right?” Jin Lei asks.
“Uh, yeah,” I say distractedly, watching the show’s title package. “I’m expecting my brother. Tell them downstairs the senator and his detail can come up as soon as they arrive.”
The door closes behind Jin Lei, and I watch this Bryce asshole interview Kimba and Lennix, who is impossibly more than she even was before.
More beautiful. More confident. More passionate.
Everything about her appeals to me on a level few things ever touch.
She views Bryce through knowing eyes, remaining composed when he tries to fluster her.
Undaunted when he tries to intimidate. Dignified when he patronizes.
She is exactly who the past ten years have made her, and I regret missing the journey.
I tried. I had hoped the months I was away in the Amazon would soften her position—give her room to cool off and reconsider.
The unanswered correspondence didn’t deter me, but when I returned to the States, Wallace Murrow did.
A few well-placed inquiries revealed Lennix was dating Vivienne’s brother.
Nix had been very loud and clear about not wanting me in her life.
There is a fine line between going all out for a woman you believe wants you as much as you want her and stalking, harassing.
I couldn’t land on the wrong side of that line, not with Nix of all people.
Controlling her own destiny means everything to her.
There always seemed to be something. If it wasn’t another man in her life, it was a hill to climb in mine. Those first few years, many of the things I did were with my father in mind—to show him how wrong he was about me, but eventually it became about who I wanted to be and what I wanted to do.
Once it was buying a company with little hope of surviving but with endless potential. Pulling that company out of the ditch consumed every waking moment for three years, but it became the foundation for the CadeCo conglomerate.
Another time it was fending off a hostile takeover.
They regretted crossing me. I performed a backflip takeover, turning the tables on them and acquiring that company for my holdings instead of being gobbled up.
Every challenge seemed to take me closer to my goals and further away from Lennix, the girl I could never forget.
But I’m here now, Nix. And you will deal with me.
“Getting to the good part, I see,” my brother says from the door.
I turn and smile, glad to see him for the first time in months.
“Can you please leave your guard dogs outside?” I ask, nodding to the two dour-faced men who look on high alert. “And tell them this place is basically Fort Knox. They can relax.”
He grins and says a few words to them before closing the door.
“You’ve got a guard dog of your own.” He removes his suit jacket, undoes his tie, and flops onto the leather couch facing the plasma wall.