Chapter 61

Thursday, October 17th, 12:51 pm

The next few days were a blur.

They started with meetings between the Tanakas and my people, during which we discussed their findings, concerns, and follow-ups. My lawyers were phenomenal, answering their questions without ever outright lying to anyone. From the start, my team had created a convoluted management system, and their team of lawyers and accountants was beginning to view us as ineffective.

Which wasn’t exactly unbelievable.

Scores of empires—political and corporate alike—had fallen because the next generation turned out to be incompetent. So we gave them incompetence.

The story spreading through the company was simple enough: placating Tanaka wasn’t the only reason we were selling one of the cornerstones of the American economy. Department heads had started noticing strange changes inside their little fiefdoms and, naturally, had gone running to their superiors. Some were shut down. Some were reassured. Some were told, with cautious optimism, that a buyout this large would almost certainly come with new leadership.

Which was very true. Within days of being bought out, VistaVision would likely fire Chandler and bring in someone new.

What we were doing was like playing 6-D chess in the middle of a twenty-five-cup shell game. It was impossible for any one person to keep track of every moving piece, which meant trusting a ridiculous number of people with tiny, carefully isolated fragments of the strategy.

To one account manager, it looked like we were deliberately tanking one of the intellectual properties under her care. When she approached her supervisor, she was encouraged to keep her mouth shut and leave VistaVision. Afterward, she would slide into a guaranteed position at another company, complete with a sign-on package large enough to soothe whatever remained of her professional conscience.

We were putting out little fires and stretching legal loopholes until they resembled the elastic waistband of fifteen-year-old underwear.

And when that wasn’t enough, the law became more of a strong suggestion.

As the Tanaka team continued to dig, our legal cover grew thinner by the hour. It was costing me a small fortune, but it still wasn’t as expensive as what Tanaka had done to me.

Money wasn’t the only cost, either. Every so often, I’d break out in a cold sweat thinking about all the slippery slopes I was about to hurl myself down.

So, I sat there staring at an expensive plate of what was basically mashed potatoes, a vegetable medley, and brisket, arranged by someone with too much professional pride. I wondered if I’d have to spend the rest of my life waiting for the U.S. government to come knocking on my door.

“Earth to Marcus,” Sachiko said, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

My gaze snapped up to her.

“You left us there for a minute,” she said.

“Sorry,” I said. “Just ... have a lot on my mind.”

I glanced toward the end of the table, where Hiro and Chandler were talking with a couple of accountants or lawyers. Someone had told a joke, and they were laughing.

The sight made something ugly twist in my stomach. Hiro Tanaka was smiling over lunch while I sat there trying not to think about indictments, shell games, and all the ways I wanted him to pay for what he’d done.

Sachiko followed my gaze, and her eyes softened with something dangerously close to sadness. She thought I was worried about her still working for her father—a man who, in my estimation, was evil incarnate.

Considering the fact that I was actively plotting her family’s demise, her misunderstanding was like a knife in the gut.

A hand settled on my leg, drawing my attention away from her. Helen sat beside me, watching me with cool, careful warning. I could practically hear her—You’re already in too deep, Marcus. The only way out is through.

I covered her hand with mine and gave it a squeeze.

Sachiko’s eyes lingered on us for a second before she picked up her fork and took another thoughtful bite.

We hadn’t discussed anything personal since that Sunday morning in the breakfast room, but she’d been watching me ever since. I caught her studying me with Erin, Helen, Charity, and even Mary, the pleasantly plump, sixty-three-year-old vice president of merchandising who had been happily married for forty years and had eight grandkids.

I couldn’t tell whether Sachiko was jealous after our night together on the island or simply studying every relationship around me, sniffing for anything that might become a business concern.

She certainly never looked at me that way when I was talking to Chandler, Darius from her legal team, or William, one of my accountants and my chef’s fiancé.

For the next ten minutes, Sachiko and I made small talk with Helen, Bart, Kate, and Matt.

Bart ran theme park marketing for VistaVision and was one of the youngest people at his level. He had shaggy, dirty-blond hair and the easygoing air of a college kid who attracted women without realizing how annoying that was to the rest of mankind. Matt was one of our accountants, blessed with a strange sense of humor and a habit of explaining everything through video game metaphors that made an irritating amount of sense.

Kate worked in growth strategy and had the smile of a shark, and her sense of humor was razor-sharp. She didn’t seem interested in marriage, children, or anything that couldn’t be converted into career momentum.

She lived for the hustle.

By the time lunch ended, Matt and Bart had even me chuckling despite where my head was.

“Well,” Kate said, “I’ve got six hours of work to cram into four. I’ll catch you guys later.”

Everyone said their goodbyes as they got up from the table.

“Coming back to the conference room?” Sachiko asked, lingering beside us.

“Actually,” Helen said, “I need to borrow Marcus for a few minutes. Then we’ll be right along.”

That did nothing to settle Sachiko’s suspicions. Her eyes flicked between us before she gave us a soft smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“See you soon, then.”

Then she left.

Helen turned in her seat so her entire body faced me.

“Marcus, you don’t have to be as involved in these meetings as you are.”

I pulled a face. “That obvious, is it?”

“Perhaps not to everyone, but I have the advantage of knowing what happened between you two and what kind of deal we’re making.”

Out of habit, I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was listening. She was talking about the large-scale business fraud we were trying to pull.

“And,” she continued, “I also happen to know you pretty well. I can tell it’s bothering you.”

“So, I can just dip out of these meetings because I don’t like the way they make me feel?”

“Yes,” Helen said, matter-of-factly.

I blinked.

“You’re paying an extraordinary amount of money to have this done properly by professionals, so you can go do other things.”

“Like what?” I asked.

There was a sparkle in her blue eyes. “Charity isn’t terribly busy right now ... or I might be persuaded to step away for a few minutes.”

As always, that got my pulse racing.

“If you’re not in the mood for that, you could always do something else. Aren’t you working on a movie with Karly?”

“So, while you spearhead an initiative to—”

A look from Helen cut me short, and I glanced around again to make sure no one was watching us.

“ ... finish the deal,” I continued, “I’m just supposed to go and ... what? Play movie producer?”

“It doesn’t have to be that,” Helen said. “You’re incredibly wealthy. Men like you collect things. They indulge obsessions. Art, cars, watches, racehorses, islands, doomed restaurants opened by chefs with opinions about foam.” Her mouth curved faintly. “What are yours?”

I thought about it for a minute.

Before the money, I’d been basically like any other guy my age. I liked action movies, sci-fi, fantasy, comic books, gaming, pickup basketball, trivia nights with craft beer, and the occasional bout of bouldering or kayaking when the weather was nice and I was feeling a little outdoorsy.

“I mean,” I said, “I like a lot of the same stuff other guys like.”

Helen studied me for a second, and then her expression softened.

“You seemed to enjoy what Emiko did with your study,” she said. “Perhaps she and Erin have some useful insights on what might be a good fit for you.”

Which was a polite way of saying the women in my life had apparently put more thought into my personality than I had.

“What does all this have to do with ... this?” I asked, pointing in the direction the rest of our lunch party had gone.

“Marcus,” Helen said, her expression growing imploring. “The last thing you need to do is give something away because you’re feeling guilty over this girl. At this point, I think it’s better if you aren’t around for the remainder of this deal.”

I sighed.

She was right. It wasn’t like I was contributing much anyway. I had a background in finance, but the kind of things these people were doing were ten levels beyond my understanding. I was in there asking more questions than anything else.

And the entire project was in very capable hands.

“You don’t think the Tanakas will be weirded out if I step away?” I asked.

“Hiro won’t,” Helen said. “He may seem like he’s warmed to you, but I promise you, the process would go smoother for him if you weren’t around ... considering Carla and Ryo.”

“As for Sachiko?” Helen hesitated. “I doubt it would bother her all that much, and if it did, I’m not sure anyone else would care.”

I stared at her for a long moment.

“Okay?” Helen asked.

“Okay,” I finally said.

“Thank you.”

“It’ll cost you,” I said, trying to bring a little levity into the moment.

She arched a cool eyebrow at me, though it was mostly for show in case someone we knew was nearby. Even the appearance of impropriety at work right now might raise a few eyebrows. In places like business lunches, my lawyer kept things pretty professional.

“Oh, really?” she asked.

“Yes, really,” I said, keeping my voice low enough that no one but her could hear it. “When I go to bed tonight, I expect you to already be there. On your knees.”

A corner of her mouth twitched. “What time do you expect me there, sir?”

“After eight,” I said.

“Care to be more specific?”

“No,” I said. “But if you’re not there, Helen, there will be hell.”

A blue flame flickered in her eyes. “Yes, sir.”