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LATER THAT EVENING, I was feeling much better. The nausea was gone, and finally I felt like myself. Earlier that afternoon, I’d texted Alex to tell him that I wouldn’t be returning to Wenn for the day, and that I’d see him when he came home.
His text back to me was loving and revealing, especially since he knew how Lisa and I were whenever we got together: “Too many martinis? I hope so. You deserve them. There’s much to discuss, which will probably end with a back rub if you’re feeling up to it. When I tell you what’s in front of us tomorrow night, you might also need one, and I’ll deliver. I love you, Jen—Alex.”
It was almost seven o’clock when Alex finally walked through the door, his face showing a conflict of emotions that I’d never seen before—exhaustion, anger, and what appeared to be a trace of concern, which was likely due to the fact that Wenn’s stock had closed at its lowest point in nearly three years. It was now down another forty-eight points, thus erasing the gains Ann and I had seen earlier.
Before he arrived, I’d showered, done my face and hair, and changed into a sexy red top that did nothing to hide my cleavage and an exquisite pair of Versace skinny jeans that barely fit my ass, though I’d heroically thrown myself down on the bed and squeezed myself into them. On my feet were my favorite Manolo Blahnik Audi ankle-strap pumps, which were especially hot when paired with jeans. I looked fresh and ready to greet my man when he walked into the foyer.
And when he did, he just stopped.
“Look at you,” he said. “Jesus, you look good enough to eat.”
“Dinner’s served whenever you’re ready to dine.”
He smiled at that, but behind the smile, I could sense a strong element of distress. I went over to him, kissed him for a long moment, took his briefcase from his hands, and then asked him for his jacket and tie.
“You need to relax,” I said. “I’m here to help.”
He shrugged out of his jacket and removed his tie. “You’re the best.”
“And you are tired—I can tell. So, let’s talk about all of it. To say the least, I’m curious about what’s happening in Singapore. But first, let me get you a martini. Sit over there on the sofa—go on. Right over there. I’ve got this. Have you eaten?”
“I don’t feel like eating.”
“I’d be happy to make you something, Alex. It’s not a problem.”
“I’ll get my grains through the martini,” he said. “And thank you. You have no idea what it feels like for me to come home to you tonight.”
“Fill me in on everything in a second. I’m also going to grab you a snack. I’ll be back before you know it—but first, take off your shoes. I want you to be comfortable.”
“You look smoking hot,” he said.
“I gave it my best shot without Blackwell and Bernie at my side.”
“Then you won, Mrs. Wenn.”
“Maybe you can take advantage of it later,” I said. “You know, to work off any frustration you might want to get rid of.”
He shot me a look. “You’re in a mood.”
“I’m just horny.”
“Then we’ll take care of that.”
I gave him another kiss, and slipped into the kitchen to make his martini. In the refrigerator, I’d already made a cheese plate with grapes, strawberries, pepperoni, crackers, and hummus. When I was finished making his drink, I brought it and the plate of snacks to him, and was happy to find him sitting on the sofa. He’d unbuttoned his shirt, thus revealing his chest to me.
“What’s this?” he asked.
“Fuel. You’re going to need it.”
“You made it that fast?”
“I might have made it for you earlier.”
“What did I ever do to deserve you?”
“I ask myself the same thing about you every day.” I gave him a look. “Seriously, Alex, you have to have something to eat. So try a bit of this. Enjoy your martini. There’s more where that came from.”
“Where is yours?”
I sat next to him and kissed him on the neck. “I had my share with Lisa. Enough is enough.” I picked up a cracker and put a slice of Stilton on it. “But cheese and crackers? Oh, I can do that.” I snuggled in close to him and placed my hand on his knee. “So, tell me,” I said. “What happened today?”
“Besides our stock tanking?”
“That’s right—and that will recover. What happened with Singapore?”
“After spending hours on the phone with Wei Jei, let’s just say that I got nowhere with him, which isn’t acceptable. He says that the manufacturer who supplies our memory chips is nearly out of stock, yet I know for a fact that that manufacturer isn’t the only one who makes the chips we need to manufacture our phone. The real issue is price. Wei Jei doesn’t want to spend what it’s going to take to keep the SlimPhone coming off the line, even though he’s contractually bound to it. I tried to walk him through that fact, but he kept throwing up barriers. Which means one thing.”
“What?”
“We need to confront him in Singapore. We leave tomorrow night. We can’t let production of our phone halt now, for obvious reasons. I need you and Blackwell there for consultation, as well as Tank, Cutter, and Max for security. We’ll take the Boeing. The Lear would necessitate too many stops to refuel. We’ll fly into Los Angeles, and then make the fourteen-hour flight to Manila. We’ll refuel there, and then complete the final eight-hour leg into Singapore. You remember the drill—this isn’t our first time there.”
“So, it’s that bad?” I said.
“I need to put a stop to this before a word of it leaks to the press. Wei Jei knows that we’ll be there in two days. Because we’ve done business before, and out of a sense of honor to me, he’s agreed to keep all of it private—which frankly also serves him. This trip is about as covert as it gets. I need to get ahead of this before it becomes a real problem. If the media catches a whiff that we might be having manufacturing difficulties with our phone, what do you think would happen to our stock then?”
“Nothing good. So, we go. Have you told Blackwell yet?”
“Yes. She’s on board. So are Tank, Cutter, and Max.”
“How long will we be there?”
“I have no idea. We’ll either be there until he bends, or until I have to threaten him with a suit. I told Wei Jei that I wouldn’t bring legal with me because I thought that if we all got in a room together and discussed this face-to-face, we could come to terms. Does he want to face a lawsuit that he will lose? No. Do I want to sue him? Obviously not. It will just hold up production.”
“If this is all in the contract, then why is he balking?”
“He’s saying that he can get the memory we need in two weeks, which won’t be soon enough given how swiftly the phone is selling. He thinks that a brief cessation of our phone on the market won’t cause us a hitch. I’m sorry, but we both know that’s bullshit, particularly given the scrutiny we’re under right now. What all of this comes down to is that he didn’t plan correctly. He didn’t think that the SlimPhone would sell as many units as quickly as it has. He was unprepared for it, but that’s his problem. Unfortunately, it’s also become mine since he’s giving me push back. He needs to get his act together, face the fact that he’s going to have to spend more money than he’d originally planned to, and make this happen for us, or there will be a lawsuit, which would only hurt his reputation, not to mention Wenn’s. I have to prevent that from happening. So, we go to Singapore. Are you with me on this?”
“Is that even a question? You know I am. I’m with you whenever you need me. I know their culture is different from ours—I get it. Women in big business don’t exactly rest well with them. But I’m not blind to what I can do to him, and to others. I can charm them.”
“In the right situation, you can be far less abrasive than I am. Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you will be able to beguile him. And his team. You have a way with businessmen that I don’t. When we first went to Singapore, you were a hit. You know that. They not only saw your beauty, but eventually they also saw your intelligence. I hate that they don’t immediately look beyond your appearance to hear what you have to offer to the conversation, but we both know that’s just how it is in that culture.”
“I understand that. Look, Alex, I get these people. And I love playing chess. So, you know, let me have at them.”
“I need all the help that I can get.”
“And you’ve got me. But I have to ask—where does Blackwell fit into all of this?”
“Her instincts are critical. She’s probably one of the smartest people I know. Do you know of a sharper person who is as intimate with Wenn as we are?”
“I don’t. In fact, she’s far more savvy than I am when it comes to Wenn.”
“Which is why we bring her with us. She charms people in a different way than you can—in that culture, her age is seen as a plus. She also knows how to work behind the scenes, and bring things around to our favor. My father used to use her for situations such as this. If you get Blackwell in a room filled with resistant men like Wei Jei, she somehow can tap into whatever vibe they’re giving off, and use it against them to disarm them. She knows how to bait a hook.”
“I can see that.”
“I see you both as a two-pronged attack. Blackwell is older and, to them, wiser. So, we’ll use that. You are young, beautiful—and disarmingly smart. We’ll use that, too. And we’ll use my influence. Hell, we’ll use whatever we’ve got to get what we need. But I resent having to use you as a showpiece.”
“Let’s get real—I know how they value women there. I’m just glad that I can still be a showpiece. And besides, we need to win. For me, you go into business with whatever you’ve got. To some women, all of this would be insulting. To me, it’s a game that I want to win.”
“God, I love you,” he said. “I was worried about this talk. I didn’t want to offend you.”
“Why would you? Actually, it will be kind of fun—I’ll have Blackwell make me look especially attractive in ways that their culture appreciates. Nothing too brazen—but everything left to the imagination. Physically, I’ll do my best to give them what they desire. But between the cracks, I’ll make sure that I help to get us what we want from them. Blackwell will work her own magic, and so will you. We’ll be a great team. Now, have a sip of your martini before it gets warm. I know what’s ahead of us, but I have a few ideas I want to run by you first.”
He took a long swallow, and then paused before taking another one, which told me exactly how much pressure he was under. When he put his glass down on the coffee table in front of us, I slipped my hand beneath his shirt and covered one of his pecs with my hand while I pulled him close to me.
“So, let me propose this,” I said.
“What’s that?”
“Since we’re taking the Boeing, we should take a few extra people along with us.”
He furrowed his brow at me. “Who?”
“Daniella and Alexa are soon going to flee to the Hamptons. They only just arrived in the city today, and this week was supposed to be spent with their mother before they escaped for the summer. As far as I see it, we might be in Singapore for at least a week before we return home. Barbara hasn’t seen those girls since Christmas. Why don’t we bring them along so they can experience a different culture?”
“Do you even know what you’re asking? Daniella and Alexa could personally destroy Singapore if they wanted to. Especially Daniella.”
“That’s why we also bring Lisa with us,” I said. “Look, what’s the big deal—we’re going to be there anyway. We can set them up in the same hotel as us, and let them explore a city they might otherwise have never seen. It’s not as if they’re going to get in the way of our work. I’ll talk with Lisa. I know that woman as much as I know myself. She’ll oversee the girls, and she’ll make sure that they’re kept in line. Plus, at night, she’ll be able to spend time with Tank. If everyone is up for it, why not bring along the girls and Lisa so they can enjoy the city while we do our work?”
He thought about that for a moment and then shrugged. “Why not? Lisa would enjoy it, and God knows those two girls could benefit from seeing how others live. Especially Daniella.”
“So, is that a go?”
“It’s a go.”
“We’ll need to bring along one other person with us,” I said.
“Who’s that?”
“First, let me get you another martini.”
“If you’re talking about Epifania, I’m out.”
I laughed at that as I stood up, reached for his glass, and went into the kitchen to make him a fresh drink. “I think you know better. Eat some crackers and cheese. Have some grapes. You don’t have enough in your stomach.”
“Who is this mysterious person?”
As I started to shake his drink, I felt a mixture of excitement and dread. Is now the time to spring my news on him? Given the circumstances, what other choice do I have? I have to tell him now. “Just that—a mysterious person.”
“What does that mean?”
I returned to the living room, handed him his drink, and met his inquisitive gaze with my own. “You might want to take a long swallow, lovey,” I said.
“Why is that?”
“Just do it.”
He did. And then, likely because of the look of expectation on my face, he took another.
“What are you up to?” he asked.
I felt a thrill of joy and terror as I leaned down toward his ear. “I’m pregnant,” I said. “We’re going to have a baby.”
