I drop the towel to light a cigarette. I want a surprise effect. And pain. Harry Carter must suffer in his pride to stop stepping on my toes.
“Tiger? Are we planning the takeover bid?” Shanna asks me again.
“No. Let this daddy’s boy gloat and believe he’s kicking my ass. While he’s busy convincing the board of directors of the company he’s after, let’s put our guys on to something else.”
“Which one?”
“I want control of the sales of all the suppliers essential to the operation of the company that he will take over. Gather strategic shares on the sly. Make a raid, a silent carnage, and let’s see what happens next.”
Shanna assimilates without flinching, then suddenly she laughs, “Damn, it’s always more twisted with you. I’m in!”
My lips form the shadow of a smile.
“You can’t afford to miss the timing, Shanna. I don’t tolerate failure.”
“You can count on me. We act like a submarine and let Carter go into debt and invest everything he’s got to acquire a company whose supplies you’ll be blocking behind the scenes. His supply costs will soar and weigh down his production. We’re helping him dig his own financial hole.
“More fun, right?” I retort.
“You bet! Once cornered, his only choice will be to beg you to make a deal,” Shanna analyzes. “Can’t get around you.”
“That’s right. Whatever he does, he’ll be blocked. Then I’ll be able to kick his ass a lot deeper when I show him the three remaining perspectives: either I’ll be his only supplier around and suffocate him. Either his pride prevails, or he resists and files for bankruptcy. Or… final option, he’ll dump the company in my lap.”
The company that he should have let me buy without getting in my way.
“Back to square one, and you get your target back. Damn, this will be humiliating for him,” Shanna enthuses.
“I want him to learn his lesson once and for all.”
“That you don’t covet what Sexton covets? And you always get what you want? I think it’s crystal clear everywhere,” she adds, deadpan.
“Obviously not enough. This isn’t the first little clown on my path, so I might as well set the record straight.”
Shanna laughs; I take a puff of nicotine, staring at the water in the infinity pool.
“Great. It will boost the troop,” she concludes.
I sit in the deckchair without superfluous comment.
“Good. Anything else, Shanna?”
“No, I’ll leave you. I have shares to steal on the sly,” she adds.
“Keep me posted, and put my CFO in the loop. He had twenty-four hours to mourn his father, that one. He’s got to get back in the ring. And remember to reward your mole at Harry Carter’s.”
“I’ll get right on that. Have a good evening, my regards to Sophia.”
I hang up and crush my cigarette butt. Speaking of my sweet wife, it looks like she passed by when I was swimming. I believe the file was placed under my ashtray. With a scribbled word:
Ty, I’m in the sauna if you’re looking for me.
Remember what we talked about on the flight two weeks ago?
Take a look.
Kisses.
I open the documents folder and convince myself to close it in two seconds.
Or not…
My gaze lingers on the photo that accompanies a resume. Océane Rousseau. Blonde, doe eyes with green tints… Fresh and rather cute… A flower. I take a deep breath, staring at her. How do I maintain a stable border between my quest, the videos, the things that still obsess me, and my daily life? This glossy face is likely to be a problem, depending on what Sophia might have in mind…
Damn! I have to keep my filter in place and keep the situation under control.
6
Océane
My roommates are laughing in the living room. The rather nice appetizer dinner with a few other students is coming to an end. They are getting ready to go down to the city.
And me, I remain a spectator of this ambient lightness. There was a time when I could be like them: carefree and joyful despite the little worries of everyday life. But tonight, I’m less inclined to do Sydney by night. My interview this afternoon is running on a loop in my head. My tendency to get excited hasn’t always led me to the best choices, but I don’t want to miss out on something great out of an abundance of caution, either. So, I can’t help but hesitate. Should I back out or take advantage of the opportunity? Damn, a roof, a job, and more money than expected! It’s an opportunity I’ll never have again.
Yes, but…
“Océane, are you coming?” Louane asks.
“Nah, not very excited tonight,” I say, thoughtful.
I go out on the terrace and sit cross-legged on the floor, my half-opened glass of apple vodka in my hands. Louane joins me, and I steal her cigarette. She pouts as she watches me take a drag.
“Hey, say! We didn’t have a chance to discuss it when you got back. How was this interview?”
“How can I tell you?” I reply, handing her the cigarette, which she drags in her turn.
“Don’t worry; odd jobs are easy to find here. You’ll see,” she comforts me.
She hands me the cigarette; I give her a wink and grumble, “Yeah…”
“Come on! You’re all calm tonight; where’s the funniest Frenchie hiding in there?”
Not so far… I hope.
“Too bad if you have nothing to celebrate today, have fun and try somewhere else tomorrow,” she encourages me.
“Actually, I… got the job.”
Louane’s eyes widen, then she applauds, delighted.
“But that’s great! Why are you making that face, then?”
Because they are rich, famous, and I don’t know why I was offered this job.
Confidentiality agreement, Océane!
“You don’t like the job? Ungrateful tasks?”
“No, it could even be the opposite… Well, I don’t know.”
Damn it, shut up!
I take a puff and quickly add, “I’m hesitant. Weighing the pros and cons.”
Not sure if she understands more than that. What can I say without betraying my contractual commitment? I’m a little confused; my excitement at hitting the jackpot is dulled over the hours. Questions swirl around in my head.