CHAPTER 15
C HAPTER 15
C urtis followed the attorney’s PA from the conference room, entered the neighboring office, and waited for the young woman to close the door. He stood in front of the empty desk, listening to the a/c’s quiet sigh. The raw pain of divulging his past had grown somewhat muted over time. It had actually felt rather good for Amiya to answer their questions.
Amiya had taken on numerous such diplomatic-style roles while Curtis had served as her father’s aide. The executive infighting had never touched him before that appointment; then suddenly he was in Delhi and part of the parent group’s inner circle. From that very first moment, some of the company’s leadership had viewed him as a threat. Their response had been vicious, shocking, even frightening at times. India was a land of extremes. The attitude of some executives in a multibillion-dollar corporation reflected the brutal struggle they had endured to reach the top tiers. Amiya’s intervention had saved him. Several times.
Curtis had often suspected she had served as guardian and interpreter at her father’s request. Such tactics fit the man. Kurien Morais could remain aloof, take no sides, and play no favorites. Everyone knew Amiya was leaving for America, looking for acquisitions marking the Morais Group’s entry into the largest market on earth. She needed allies while building a toehold in this new and untested terrain. Which was also why Curtis thought his opponents had finally, reluctantly, granted him a temporary pass. So long as he didn’t stay too long, or grow too close to the old man.
He had not spoken with Kurien since the abduction.
Curtis had reached out twice, once after Kurien was released from the hospital, again the week before they buried Kurien’s younger brother. Later that same week, Kurien’s PA had instructed him to step back. Curtis was forbidden to attend the funeral. He was to stop reaching out. Delhi was closed to him.
Two years later, it still hurt.
The time in Delhi had been a transformative period. Curtis had never understood the concept of loyalty before then. Not really. Kurien Morais had remained aloof, mostly silent, granting Curtis no direct reason to develop the deep affection he still held. The head of Morais Enterprises was regal in his approach to all his executive staff. Serving as the man’s aide for six months was both a test and a gift. In some respects, Curtis never truly understood the full extent of the man’s reach until after Lorna’s death. Standing there in the Raleigh law offices, Curtis returned to the same realization that had lit any number of dark nights. He had survived and found meaning in his days because of Kurien Morais and his daughter.
The phone rang.
* * *
Amiya demanded, “Curtis?”
“I’m here.”
“Are you very much alone?”
He knew instantly that something had raised Amiya’s stress level. Whenever things grew especially tight, vocal traces of her birthright reappeared. Otherwise, she spoke with a slight New England lilt, a music that had seen him through so much.
“They’ve given me an empty office. The door is closed.”
“Daddy has been held up. He will join us . . . Just a moment, please, I need . . .”
In the silence that followed, he reflected on how strange their connection might appear to outsiders. How this lovely woman was both his boss and a true friend. How the two relationships fit together seamlessly. Because of who she was.
“All right, I’m back,” Amiya told him. “I’m so worried. I haven’t spoken with Daddy for almost a month. He’s never been distant like this before. And then he insists we speak, the three of us, this very moment.”
Curtis watched dust motes drift in light streaming through the west-facing window. “I wondered about that, too.”
“He listened to our conversation with the attorneys as well.”
That was a genuine shocker. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He said not to. Again, the reasons are beyond me. And before the conversation, when we spoke at long last and I asked him about breaching the confidentiality, do you know what he told me?”
“I have no idea what your father could have said.”
“I was to drop everything and fly to North Carolina. Not tonight, not tomorrow. Then and there, Curtis. I spoke with you and the attorneys on the way to Teterboro.”
“You had a driver overhear what we discussed?”
“My secretary drove us. Judith is a terrible driver, by the way. Just horrid. When she pulled up in front of the terminal, I was tempted to do like the pope, drop to my knees and kiss the pavement.”
“Where are you booked?”
“What an odd question. The resort, of course.” A pause; then, “You are not staying there?”
“No.”
“Why on earth not?”
“I told you. Simon, the manager, considers me a foe. It seemed best to keep a distance.”
“Wait, here is the pilot. I am moving to the plane.” There was the sound of conversation Curtis couldn’t be bothered to hear, then a rush of airport sounds—jet engines and louder distant voices—followed by silence. “I am flying into New Bern’s airport. We’ll be landing in—” There were a trio of clicks. “Here is Daddy.”
* * *
“Curtis, are you there?”
“Yes, sir, I am.” He checked his watch, realized his hands were shaking. Three o’clock in the afternoon, East Coast time, was half past midnight in Delhi. “Good evening.”
Amiya’s father had never been comfortable with small talk. His meetings were often a few minutes long. Less. Kurien began, “You and I share the burden of great loss. The weight we both carry, it is so heavy, no?”
Curtis would never have allowed anyone else to open these wounds. But with Kurien, there was no need to deflect. “I’ve never been able to speak with you directly and express—”
“Now is not the time, my friend.” He coughed weakly. “I asked my daughter to include me in this conversation so that I might listen to what you have said, and what remained unspoken. I heard many things that brought me great comfort. You are healing, and you will soon become healed. That I heard most clearly of all.”
The words and the man both confounded him. Kurien’s weakened state was glaring. He had always addressed the world in a calm and soothing manner. Even his rages carried a distinct undertone of regret. Now, though, his voice held the fragility of a broken reed.
“Sir . . .”
“My own coming transition is different from yours.” A weak cough; then, “I am failing, my dear young friend.”
There was a quick sob, a choking sound. Amiya.
Kurien went on, “I have three requests and no one else I can trust them to. That is also what I heard in today’s discussion. How I can rely on you.”
Curtis found himself infected with Amiya’s sorrow. It choked off his ability to respond.
Kurien seemed to have found what he needed in the silence. “Here then are my requests. Three of them, as I said. First, I want to begin the transition now. While I have time and energy to appreciate the tomorrow that may be soon lost to me.”
“Daddy . . .”
“Hush now, my dearest child. There isn’t time for this. Soon, but not now. Curtis?”
His voice sounded strangled. “I’m here.”
“Find me a home. Somewhere private. Not the hotel, you understand?”
“I’ll get on this immediately.”
“That was the easy part. Here is the difficult. The challenge. Two things. First, do what is refused to me. Accept that you are healing and move beyond your loss. Ready yourself for a new tomorrow.”
The need to clench down on the flood caused Curtis to bend over, tight, struggling, sinking slowly until he knelt on the carpet.
“Do not allow fear of this unknown to trap you. Strive to walk the road ahead with eyes and heart open. Live a full life for us both.”
Amiya was sobbing now. Curtis found harmony in the sound. A woman capable of weeping for him as well.
“And finally, tomorrow I am formally naming Amiya my successor on the Delhi board.”
“Daddy, no!”
“I have done my best to shield her. Our executive board will remain in charge of the operations here. She will serve as overseer from our new U.S. base. She will also vote my shares in the parent group. Upon my death, she will inherit them. You understand what this means?”
“Your nephew.” Curtis forced himself to stand. “He doesn’t like me.”
Kurien might have laughed, or perhaps he simply cleared his throat. “That does not go nearly far enough. Ajeet despises you. Almost as much as he loathes the prospect of Amiya taking charge of any portion of our group. You understand?”
“If Ajeet thinks your daughter might soon be taking control, he will come after her.”
“Not directly. That is not Ajeet’s way. Who knows what form the opposition will take? Or when they might decide to strike.” He paused for a weak but wracking cough. “So. My third request. I am asking you to take care of my beloved child. Help her. Be strong for her. And that is enough for now. I arrive in two days. You may give me your answer then.”
The line went dead.