Chapter Four
It took several hours of phone calls and a sleepless night of tiresome investigation, before she even got a hint of whom her angel investor might be. Even then, she didn’t have the inkling of a name; just the names of the companies he’d invested in and a few of the colleagues that spoke highly of him.
Well, Melanie thought, at least I know it’s a man. But, that didn’t say much for the investment world, which was filled with more men named John and Bill than women as a whole.
However, it was something.
His associates called him Mr. Banks, but that was clearly a pseudonym. Melanie had called around to investors and found out that Banks was relatively new to the game, though he was no rookie. He was smart and wealthy and a big player in the finance world. They also told her that she was lucky to have somebody like that on her side.
If only she knew whom, that somebody was.
She didn’t give up until she had a name—a real name.
Carmichael. Aiden Carmichael.
Something in the back of her mind flared at the name, but it was gone before she could really capture it. Melanie hummed deep in her throat as she began to do a little more research into this Aiden Carmichael. She didn’t find any photographs of the man, but found that he was rather successful in the majority of his own ventures. Everybody that she spoke with had nothing but positive things to say about him.
He’s ambitious.
He’s calculating.
He’s the man you want to invest in you.
Every investment he’s ever made has been a surefire success. You can’t go wrong with him!
Still, she had no idea what that meant in regards to her. How did he even know about her investors or her own business ventures? How did he know that she had been cheated out of her savings? What business did he have butting into hers? Who the hell was this guy?
When she finally found the address of his main office building, Melanie jumped up and got herself dressed, calling for a town car to take her straight there. The building that they pulled up to had her heart plummeting into her stomach. It was one of the tallest in Midtown and Melanie had to crane her neck all the way back just to see one of the uppermost floors, where her angel investor was sitting in his office, probably making millions of dollars as she stood there on the sidewalk.
Taking a deep breath, Melanie headed into the building, keeping her spine straight; after she had her bag checked by security and was doled out a pass so that she could use the elevator. She wondered, as she boarded the lift, why they didn’t ask for more than her name and her I.D. Was it possible that Aiden Carmichael had been expecting her? Was she late for some unspoken meeting they had?
Or was she known here simply as her father’s daughter? Was it her name that had gotten her in? She wouldn’t be surprised.
She got off at the top floor of the building and was immediately bombarded by the noise of several men in cubicles talking loudly on the phone. There were offices around the perimeter of the room that had small windows to look inside, where she could see men and women, dressed professionally, lounging at their desks, far more relaxed than their subordinates. She wondered if they were Carmichael’s associates, as she’d never read about him having business partners, just investors.
She got her answer as she came to his door, which contained an outer office, complete with secretary. The woman sitting at her own tiny desk had glasses on a chain and her hair in a bland bun at the base of her skull. She, too, had a phone pressed to her ear and placed a finger in the air before Melanie could even part her lips.
“No, Mr. Carmichael doesn’t have time to meet with you this week,” she said, into the receiver. “He has a schedule packed with meetings. Yeah, well he’s a very busy man.” She hung up the phone and turned her nose up to Melanie. “Who are you and what business do you have with Mr. Carmichael?”
“My name is Melanie Brunswick,” Melanie said, willing her voice to remain calm and steady. “I’m here to talk to Mr. Carmichael about an investment he recently made.”
“He’s busy,” the woman said. “You’ll have to make an appointment for next month.”
“Next…are you serious?” Melanie asked. “Why can’t I just speak to him right now?”
“Maybe your hearing isn’t so good, dear,” the woman said in a (clearly faked) sweet tone, “but Mr. Carmichael doesn’t have time to speak to anybody. Not today. Not this week. Or next week. Hell, next month is pushing it, too.” She reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a heavily marked and highlighted schedule, flipping through it with a few thoughtful noises in the back of her throat. “Okay, there,” she said. “There’s a fifteen-minute slot open toward the end of the…what do you think you’re doing?!”
While the woman was distracted, Melanie had stormed toward the inner-office door, reaching for the knob and finding it—thankfully—unlocked. She turned it and shoved the door open, stepping inside with the secretary right on her heels.
“You can’t go in there!” the woman’s shrill voice followed her. “Mr. Carmichael is very busy. He doesn’t have time to see you right now!”
The man inside did not look very busy at all. Unlike his associates, he was wearing a t-shirt and form-fitting jeans that showed off his impressive backside. He had a cell phone pressed to his ear as he stared out his window. He didn’t even acknowledge their entrance, except to pull the phone away from his ear and say, “It’s fine, Doreen. She can stay.” Then he went right back to his call, which was filled with laughter and jokes as Melanie stood there, awkwardly.
Doreen gave her a long glare as she headed back out to her desk, closing the door softly behind her.
As Mr. Carmichael spoke to…whoever it was he was speaking to, Melanie’s eyes ran over his impressive form. He was tall and muscular. His blonde hair was slicked back and curled just slightly around his ears. He had broad shoulders and she could clearly see the definition of his musculature underneath his t-shirt. The sight made her cheeks burn with attraction.
When he finally turned, she saw that he was even more handsome from the front. He had a square jaw and piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold a fire within. He clicked off the phone and gave her a slow, easy smile.
“Melanie Brunswick,” he said, as if they were old friends. Melanie furrowed her brow at him, wondering how he knew her. There was something familiar about that smile, but she couldn’t quite place him in her memory. “What brings you here today?” The tone of his voice suggested that he already knew and Melanie felt her heart leap at the spark of mischief in his eyes.
She cleared her throat and straightened her back so that she stood at her full height.
“I think you know,” she retorted, keeping her voice cool and emotionless. She was channeling her father and hoped that it worked. When he didn’t respond, she explained, “You paid back all my investors for me. Why? You don’t even know me.”
“Don’t I?” Aiden Carmichael retorted. He motioned for her to take a seat at his desk as he sat down, himself, lounging in the wheeled desk chair. As Melanie sat, she noted the motorcycle helmet pushed off to the side and the garment bag hung up behind the desk. There were dry cleaning tags on it and she could see a freshly-ironed white collar sticking out over the plastic. His business suit, it would seem. Melanie took another long look at the man in front of her and thought long and hard. He was so familiar, but she didn’t have any clue where she had seen him.
Perhaps, as popular as he was in their chosen profession, she had seen his face in an article or something. Maybe even on television at some point. But, that didn’t explain how he knew her. She wasn’t famous by any stretch of the imagination. Despite her father being well-known…
Wait, was she here because of her father?
Before Melanie could ask the question that was on the tip of her tongue, Aiden Carmichael began to speak again. “I’ve been following your progress for a while, Miss Brunswick,” he informed her. “Since you graduated, as valedictorian, from Harvard Business School. Before that, if I’m being honest, though. I heard about all the investments you were receiving throughout your last year of school and about all the ingenious ideas you had…well, when I heard what happened just a few days ago, I thought you deserved a break.”
“A break?”
“Yes. Somebody came in and bought up your company, leaving you with nothing. Except for the naming rights, of course. But those are virtually worthless. I thought that you deserved another chance to show the world what you’re made of and you couldn’t very well do that if you were left high and dry with millions in debt, now could you?” Melanie didn’t know what to say to that so she simply shook her head. “So I settled your accounts for you, as a favor.”
“But why?” Melanie asked. “We don’t even know each other. And why not contact me first?”
“If I had, would you have accepted the offer at all?”
Melanie was silent; the truth was, she probably wouldn’t have.
“Exactly,” Aiden said. “I hope to work with you, Miss Brunswick. You are quite intelligent, but you are also very proud. Now, don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad thing to be proud. But, don’t let your pride hold you back. I’d hate to see it destroy you.”
Melanie nodded, though she was still confused by this man’s sudden presence in her life. “Now, if you want the chance to pay me back, there will be plenty of opportunities in the near future. We can work together on a few upcoming projects, but, until then…I’ll be in touch.” He stood and reached out to shake her hand, leaving Melanie dumbfounded.
“Excuse me?” she said. “That’s it? Just…you’ll be in touch?”
“I don’t know what else you want me to say,” Aiden chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “I have a board meeting in about an hour, so I don’t exactly have the time to talk schedules right now, but yeah; I’ll be in touch.”
“But—”
“Thanks for coming in, Miss Brunswick.” There was a note of finality in his voice that had Melanie’s mouth clamping shut. She shook her head and bit her tongue, before standing and making her way to the door.
Before she could reach for the door knob, though, she decided to get the last word.
“Melanie,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“Call me Melanie,” she said. “Not Miss Brunswick. Melanie.”
Aiden grinned and nodded. “Alright, Melanie,” he agreed. “Then you can just call me Aiden.” Melanie nodded and turned the doorknob, opening the door. Her eyes remained locked on his as she started to step out and she noticed the faraway look in his eyes. When he caught her gaze, he tilted his head to the side. “You really don’t remember me?” he asked and she shook her head. “Amazing. Your father always said your memory was like a fly trap; nothing escapes.”
“My father…?”
“A story for another time, I guess,” Aiden said, checking his watch. “Close the door on your way out, please. I have to get changed for my meeting.”
For the second time in as many minutes, Melanie was dismissed and she brushed off her anger as she stepped out of the office and smoothed down her blouse over the curve of her midsection, taking a deep breath to cool herself down. She shared a look with the unimpressed Doreen, before crossing the outer-office to make her way back to the elevator with her head held high.
As she exited the office, something caught Melanie’s eyes on the wall to her right. It was a magazine cover, with Aiden’s smiling face enlarged and facing the camera. But, it wasn’t the sight of his baby-blue eyes, or those high cheekbones, that sent her heart racing.
It was her father’s name, in bold print, with the words Carmichael’s LATE Mentor written beneath it. Suddenly, Melanie knew exactly where she’d seen Aiden before.
It was also the last place she had seen her own father.
*****