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It’s funny that this is one of the few things I still remember about her.
I feel sad when I think about my mom nowadays; most of the time, it’s not my biological mom but Ms. Macy, my adoptive mom. It’s been ages since my biological parents passed away, and I’ve almost forgotten all the memories we shared. However, the time I spent in the orphanage and the pain I endured there, those memories are still crystal clear in my mind.
Of all the requests Pauline made the last time we saw each other; this is the first one I’ve tried to fulfill. Even though my body is perfect for modeling—at five feet ten inches—my shyness makes me want to hide from the world. I’m very outgoing inside my head. I talk to myself a lot, and I’m also very sarcastic, but when it’s time to express myself publicly, things change.
“Zoe, are you willing to make a little extra money?” asks Tamara, a colleague who was hired along with me and who is also from Boston. We share a cabin in the staff wing.
“Always,” I say, smiling. “I’m looking to buy some souvenirs for my parents, so any money that comes in will be welcomed.”
“They need a waitress for the gala dinner at the captain’s cabin. There will be only a few guests but some very powerful people.”
“Look, that’s quite an opportunity, but I really don’t think it’s a good idea. The chances of me spilling something on fancy guests’ clothes are very high. I’m pretty clumsy.”
“Don’t be silly, the tips are awesome. I’ve worked a few times at events like these.”
“But why me?”
“I gave your name; you should be called in. I know your situation.”
I’m not offended by what she says because it’s just the truth. “Are you sure about that? What if I do something silly and jeopardize your position?”
“Chill. Just relax and trust yourself a little more. It’ll be alright.”
Christos
CHAPTER TWO
BARCELONA
“What do you have for me?”I ask, desperate for him to give me an excuse to get up and leave.
“You’re not being reasonable, Christos.”
“I’ve never been accused of that. You have five more minutes.”
“I thought our negotiation was on track.”
“I did, too, until I found out you’d sugarcoated your profit this year. Do you have any idea what will happen if this gets to shareholders’ ears?”
He paces, and once again, I regret having to deal with someone like him. If my analysts hadn’t estimated that the profit would be fairly decent if we bought his company, I would have told him to go to hell.
Frank Morrison is everything I despise in a man: he has a weak, pliable personality and does what’s expected of him. If you want to be an asshole, act like one. Embrace the persona and don’t pretend to be afraid of anything or anyone. But if you change your character according to the situation, then you are nothing to me.
“What do you want me to do?”
“If—with emphasis on ‘if’—we are going to negotiate, the companywill have to do an audit on the last ten years. It only took my analysts an hour to find inconsistencies in the numbers you sent me.”
Actually, I’ve already completed the auditing process and received the results via email. However, I want to play a little game with him and make him sweat. Moreover, I’m curious to find out if there are any hidden secrets or confidential information that my employees couldn’t uncover, although I highly doubt it. Frank is far from being a financial expert; he’s just a petty thief who attempted to deceive his own company and failed miserably.
He nods, but I can see he’s paled. “What else?”
“If there’s any indication of fraud, the deal is off.”
“There isn’t this was the first time. . .”
“Lucky for you, the fiscal year hasn’t ended yet. According to my lawyers, there’s still time to fix it.” I cross my legs and face him. He looks like he’s about to pass out. “Did you really think you’d deceive me? Did you believe I would invest in a nearly billion-dollar business without making sure of where I was standing?”
“No. . . I mean, you don’t understand. I was. . .I amdesperate.”
