Chapter 8
I didn’t love to hear my parents talk that way, but I suppose it was getting harder to doubt it. Even the tantalizing idea of Langdon Cane, and what a future with him might hold, only made me dread the ultimate disappointment that was almost certain to come.
A knock at the door distracted me, and I stepped out of my bedroom to see Ricardo already at the front door with our baseball bat in his hands. In a low, barking voice nothing like his own, as intimidating as he could be, Ricardo shouted, “Who is it?”
A voice I could barely hear muttered something. Ricardo glanced at me as he secured the chain lock and slowly pulled the door open. “Who are you?”
“Sherman Mathers,” the man said, sticking a picture ID and metal badge into the space of the opened door. “Federal Trade Commission. I’m looking for a Miss Sheryl Francis, please?”
Ricardo turned to look at me, eyes wide and frightened. My stomach felt the same way he looked. But I had no choice, so I sighed and nodded. Ricardo closed the door, released the chain lock, and stepped back as the door drifted open in front of him.
When he stepped into our apartment, I recognized his shaved head and milk chocolate complexion immediately. He looked around our little apartment as if assessing everything, taking mental notes to use against me later—and probably only a few minutes later, at that.
I said, “I’m Sheryl Francis. What can I do for you?”
“Sherman Mathers, Miss Francis—”
“Yes, the Federal Trade Commission, so you said. What business do you have with me?”
“That would be federal business, Miss Francis. I’m lookin’ into the business practices of your boss, John Alister of Alister Fashions.”
“Yes, I know who he is.” Ricardo looked at me, impressed, and I had to admit I felt as if I was swelling with some new strength, a new willingness to fight. I wasn’t sure if it was Langdon’s influence or just my own coming of age, but I didn’t want to be intimidated by this man or anyone, in government or high fashion or in any other grim and grimy business.
Sherman said, “Then perhaps you know a little more about some of these shell companies?”
I shook my head. “I’m only his personal assistant, Mr. Mathers. I do his personal errands.”
“You don’t sit in on any of these meetings?” I had to hesitate, knowing he could have bugged the offices and be hoping to catch me in a lie. I wasn’t sure if that was ethical or even honest, but John’s warning from the conference room rang in the back of my head and I knew I had to proceed with caution. I may have been unsure about whom to trust, but I was pretty sure this man didn’t have my interests at heart.
So I said steadily, “I don’t understand much of what’s said at the meetings I do wind up in.”
“Really,” he said with a little smile. “You don’t strike me as the dumb blonde type.”
“Even so, these are some of the sharpest minds in the world. And I’d been hoping for a career in fashion design, Mr. Mathers, not business.”
“I see. And how’s that going? Career advancing as much as you’d like?”
“S’not bad,” I said.
“Oh come on, Miss Francis, you’re meant for better things than this. Don’t let that man keep you under his thumb anymore! Don’t let him and the others like him go on abusing the system, getting away with paying nothing while other people are robbed blind of every penny they manage to earn. Shutting out the little businessman, creating monopolies, hiding their money in offshore banks, manipulating the stock market, changing the tax laws. That’s not you, Sheryl, that’s not the person you are. I can tell that you’re a decent, honest, hard-working person. You want to do the right thing, Sheryl, I know you do.”
“I’d tell you anything I thought might help.”
“Just tell me whatever you know. I’ll decide what might help.”
I blinked slowly, feeling I’d already answered his question. Apparently coming to the same realization, he turned to pace slowly around the little apartment. “You’ve been entertaining Langdon Cane, from Australia. Are he and your boss planning some joint venture? That’s the gossip on Wall Street.”
“If John Alister wanted to make an announcement about anything like that, I’m sure he would.”
“But what if he didn’t want anybody to know? Then he wouldn’t make an announcement, would he?” I just shook my head and shrugged. He went on, “What about Cane, what have you got on him?”
“What have I—? First of all, I’m not your spy. I don’t even know you! Second of all, I think you better leave my apartment before I lodge a complaint of harassment for showing up here like this!”
“That’s how you want to play it, that’s fine with me. But I feel like I should warn you that if you were in any meetings where violations or other illegal matters were being discussed, you’re going to be legally culpable, regardless of how much or how little you understood about what you heard.” He turned to Ricardo, who was standing there shocked. “And if she’s conveyed anything to you—”
But Ricardo just hit him with a stream of Spanish before turning and running into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
I said, “Just leave.”
“They’ve got millions of dollars for legal fees, Miss Francis.” He glanced around the little apartment again. “I’m guessing you’ve got… less.”
“Go before I scream rape.”
“Okay, Miss Francis, no need to be uncivil.” He smiled, nodded, and walked quietly across the apartment. “If you change your mind, or come across any new information—”
“I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“I think you’ll find that the wisest choice, Miss Francis.” With that, he was gone. All I could do was close the door, lock it, and slide down to sit on the living room floor, head leaning against the door.
As soon as I could pull myself together, I grabbed my phone to call John Alister, but I hesitated, my finger hovering over the screen. Ricardo stepped out of his bedroom and I asked him, “What should I do? If I call John and tell him, will that be a crime somehow? Is that me being complicit in some way? He’s right, John’s got all the money in the world for legal fees, Langdon too. What have I got?”
Ricardo could only shrug.
“But if I don’t tell John and he finds out, that’ll be it for me, out the door. My name’ll be shit all over the industry, even if I don’t spend the rest of my life behind bars.”
“Why don’t you call your man first? You should call him anyway, and he may have some good advice.”
“Ricardo, you’re a genius.”
“That’s what I keep telling everyone.”
The phone rang once and Langdon answered quickly. “Just can’t stay away from me, can ya?”
That was true, but it wasn’t why I was calling.
“Langdon, I just got a visit… in my apartment… from the Federal Trade Commission.”
After a nervous silence, he said, “That so? Y’get a name?”
“Mathers, Sherman Mathers. He’s got a hard-on for John, I think. But I’m a little worried that maybe John’s setting you up to take a fall and get the heat off him for whatever he’s done.”
A little silence passed which did nothing to quell my nervousness. But Langdon finally said, “I looked into it before I came out here, luv. Alister’s not as crooked as a person might guess just to look at him. Never skip the due diligence, Sheryl.”
“Well, that’s great, but… he’s coming after you too, this Mathers guy. And he seems to know something about John’s offer.”
“Okay, take it easy. I know what you’re getting at. Let’s get together, talk in person.”
“What about John? I should call him.”
“Absolutely do, no reason to lie to him either. J.A.’s a likely man, more’n capable. He’ll know how to handle it.”
“But Langdon… that’s what I’m afraid of.”
I followed Langdon’s advice and my own best judgment and called the bossman himself, John Alister. He was very calm about everything, having known that somebody on our team was going to be approached. He even reasoned that he shouldn’t be surprised it was me. I was close to him as his personal assistant, and I was a young woman, fairly petite, an easy mark in the eyes of most men; a lesser creature, low-hanging fruit.
In the end, John told me the same thing Langdon did: remain calm and say nothing and report back if the man returned, things of that sort. I have to admit that I felt a lot better after talking to John. Not that he had any more gravitas or wisdom than Langdon Cane, though he was older by about fifteen years. But John was my boss, and I knew I was more directly connected to him and anything he’d done. If he were panicking, that would give me reason to panic.
Of course, I had to tell myself, that’s all the more reason he would pretend to be calm, to lure me into a false sense of security before throwing me under the bus!
I leaned back and sighed, the smartphone still in my hand. No, I urged myself, don’t do this, don’t let yourself get carried away by all this. It’s probably all in your mind!
I had to smile when I realized my inner voice probably had it right.
Being stalked through the subterranean parking lot at the A.F. building? Paranoid delusions. Thinking Langdon Cane was ultimately going to settle for some townie from Eugene, Oregon? Pie in the sky! Imagining John Alister is scheming to overthrow his greatest rival and relying on his dupe of a personal assistant to make sure it gets done? Yeah, right! That’s not John Alister, that’s not the kind of man he is. He doesn’t leave things to chance, he doesn’t take risks.
Or does he? And there could yet be some truth to Langdon’s feelings after all…
Ricardo walked up to the couch and stood with his hands on his hips. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Are they coming for us or not?”
I broke into a relieved smile. “Neither John nor Langdon seems very worried about it, so I guess we shouldn’t be either.”
Ricardo spat out a hiss or relief, waving his hands in front of his face and shaking his head. “Girlfriend, that kind of excitement, I do not need!”
“I hear you, Ricardo, loud and clear.”
We sat in the quiet of the moment, relief puncturing the tension in our little apartment. Ricardo looked over at me, eyes glancing up and down at my wrinkled, tired business attire. “You still goin’ out on that big date?”
I didn’t have to give it much thought. “I’m pretty sure.”
“Then you can’t be sitting there looking like that!”
I had a few things, and Ricardo had a few more, but ultimately we had to go down to his friend’s photo studio, where they had racks and racks of model-ready clothes in various smaller sizes. I felt like some kind of fashion model myself, though more along the lines of a Cinderella version, townie-girl-turned-princess, wearing the most fabulous gowns in the world. The Stella McCartney cocktail dress made me look very sexy and sophisticated, hugging my curves, the spaghetti straps revealing my shoulders and cleavage. The Vera Wang full-length strapless made me feel like a starlet from the nineteen-twenties.
But ultimately Ricardo and I agreed that a backless blue silk dress would look just perfect with my hair piled up and ringlets dangling over the sides. Ricardo and I were having so much fun, and it’d been so long since I’d just indulged in something frivolous and fashionable.
Anyway, I tried to silently justify it, I’m in fashion; shouldn’t I eventually be in some actual fashion? How often do I ever try on the things people design the way a model would? This is research, that’s what it is!
But something else kept creeping into the back of my mind, and Ricardo could tell. “What’s wrong, Sher?”
“Well, it’s… there’s nothing wrong, exactly, but… these outfits… I’m really grateful, Ricardo, don’t get me wrong, I mean, they’re amazing, and you’re amazing…” Ricardo just rolled his eyes. “I’m just not sure Langdon’s gonna go for the fancy thing. He’s a down-home kinda guy, y’know? Rustic, natural, honest. I think that’s what he likes about me.”
Ricardo shook his head. “Honey, I’ll bet there are all kinds of things he likes about you. Do you think being stunning is gonna be a turn-off?”
I said, “C’mere,” and led Ricardo to my laptop, which happened to have the internet already pulled up and turned on. I clicked the keys a few times, pulling up a video on YouTube. It was a series of clips with Langdon in various adventurous surroundings: eating bugs with some tribe in Africa, climbing a snowy mountain in the Himalayas, in a celebrity boxing match against Virgin’s Richard Branson.
A narrator’s brassy young voice rang over the clips. “From the windswept peaks of the Himalayas to the depths of the Marianas Trench, the CEO his colleagues call the Australian Widman has seen and done it all.”
More clips included Langdon chopping trees with lumberjacks in the Great Northwest and working the high steel on Australia’s famous Sydney Harbor Bridge, orange hardhat failing to stop the strong breezes from toying with his flowing brown hair.
The narrator went on, “Langdon Cane’s story could already fill two books, and he’s only just turned thirty years old. What will the future hold for this amazing man?”
I hit the space bar to end the video. “You really think a man like that is going to be interested in a girl like me?”
Ricardo looked me dead in the eyes. “Listen to me, Sheryl. A man like that, he seems… adventurous, like the king of mankind and the world’s just his playground… and we’re all his playthings.
“But Langdon Cane isn’t that different from any other man, or any woman either, Sheryl. Everybody is looking for something. So what’s he looking for? Not to prove himself. He’s already done that a million times over. Nobody’s going to doubt him or his accomplishments now.”
“He’s not looking for fame,” I said. “I don’t think so, anyway. He never talks about it. This was some kind of magazine show he did, but there aren’t many of them. I found a clip from Bill Maher that was pretty interesting.”
“Honey, a man like that could have fame in the snap of his fingers if he wanted it. No, Sheryl, what that man wants… and needs… and can’t find… is love.”
“Are you kidding? Any woman I know would fall in love with him, and stay in love, at the drop of his hat.”
“There’s at least one woman I know who already feels that way. But it’s not about finding somebody to love him, but finding somebody he can love, somebody he can admire and look up to. For a man like him, that’s gotta be a rarity; people falling over him, yes men everywhere, he must get bored being the big man all the time. A man like that needs a powerful woman, Sheryl, somebody unique, somebody with ziz, with pizzazz.”
We both turned to look into a nearby mirror, Ricardo’s face behind mine. The makeup and hair were perfect, the gown gorgeous.
“It won’t matter how you look,” Ricardo said. “What a man like that wants… is you.”
***
I met Langdon for breakfast the next morning at a lovely little place very close to the Baccarat. The tea was hot and oaky, the bagel and cream cheese warm and chewy and delicious. The chilled melon was fresh and perfectly scooped, and the ice water cradled a slice of lemon.
I didn’t want to tell Langdon about what had happened in the parking garage the night before—especially since nothing had really happened at all. I didn’t want to come off like some paranoid lunatic, even if that’s the way I was feeling. And I certainly couldn’t tell him that John Alister had enlisted me to bring back information. In truth, I was growing suspicious of my boss, but I also knew I had a professional responsibility to him.
But I’d already mentioned that troubling visit from the FTC. At least, I was troubled by it. Langdon didn’t seem overly concerned, and that had my instincts tingling. If Langdon’s that secure in what’s going on, he must know what he’s telling me. I can’t be sure Langdon isn’t playing me for a fool, seducing me in order to use me against John in some way. What if Langdon is using me as a scapegoat, not John, and it’s Langdon encouraging the FTC? But then why would Sherman Mathers have asked? To throw me off the scent, keep me off my guard? All I really know is that none of these three men can be entirely trusted, at least not yet. And I’m stuck between them in a way I’m not even sure I understand. But there are things going on that I’m not privy to, that seems certain.
I was being used, I knew that, and I didn’t like it. But I had to figure out which of these men was using me—and for what—before I could decide what to do about it. It only struck me then how little I knew about this Langdon Cane.
“So, y’mind if I ask you a question?”
He nodded and smiled, a lock of long brown hair falling over one eye. “I hear rumors about you, your company, certain things about… work ethics and safety conditions, child labor, things like that?”
Langdon cocked his head back a bit, eyes narrowing. “Is that what this is? J.A. hoping to get you to trick me into making some kinda admission or anothah?”
“No, Langdon, nothing like that, nothing at all.”
“Get a little leverage, is it?”
“No, Langdon, no.” I set my hand on his and looked into his eyes with a flirtatious innocent look I knew most men found appealing, if not just downright impossible to resist. “I’m asking for myself, because… because I like you, Langdon, I mean… obviously, after, well…” I cleared my throat, hoping he’d take over the reins of the conversation, but he seemed content to let me squirm. “Anyway, I just want to know, y’know, what kind of man I’m dealing with.”
Langdon’s head cocked to one side, shoulder arching a bit. “You deal with John Alister, and who knows what he’s really up to?”
“I work for John Alister, Langdon. He’s my boss. What you and I have… it’s something different, something better … I hope.”
Langdon looked deep into my eyes, and I felt as if he were searching out the truth of my soul, and finding it. “Fair enough, Sheryl, fair enough. Truth is, those’er all lies, every one of ‘em, down to the last punctuation mahk!”
“But… why would John Alister lie about that?”
“Make sure you don’t turn against him, for one thing. Maintain some leverage, like I said, for anothah. But ask y’self this, Sheryl: Why would he wanna get into business with me if my record was really all that bad, right? I mean, it got out he was connected to whatever they’re sayin’ I done, Choinese kids or whatevah, he’d have to run f’the hills!”
His logic was flawless, I had to admit. But I also knew it would be. This wouldn’t have been the first time he’d sidestepped the issue. And in truth, I had no idea if John Alister would run from the idea of a little forced child labor here and there. I didn’t have any proof, but I had less and less substantial evidence to the contrary.
“Fair enough, Langdon,” I said, “fair enough. But… why all the, um, the adventures, y’know?”
“The adventures?”
“Yeah, deep sea diving and celebrity boxing and mountain climbing. Isn’t being super rich thrilling enough?”
Langdon gave that one some thought, crossing his arms in front of him. “I guess it’s not, tell ya the truth. I mean, it’s great, don’t get me wrong. But there’s just something… lacking about it, like there’s a hole in me heart somewhere, needs to be filled. Guess it stahted when me mum and dad died.”
“Oh, Langdon, I’m so sorry, I… I didn’t mean to bring up any bad feelings, or—”
“Nah, it’s alright. Everybody dies somehow.” He took another long, slow sip of coffee, wincing into the bitterness of his memory, sugarcoating it for my benefit. A man like Langdon Cane would never want or allow himself to be pitied. He even smiled as he went on, “For them it was a small plane, scoutin’ the outback. Me dad was a bush pilot, started taking movie types out to scout locations.”
“And your mom went with him on things like that?”
“They were always together, Mum and Dad. ‘At’s how they wanted it. Couldn’t live without each other anyway, wouldn’t have wanted to.”
“How sad… and kind of sweet.”
“I think so.” Langdon took a sip of coffee. “I was nearly grown anyway, almost fourteen. It’s how I gaht stahted in business. I sold the place, reinvested the proceeds in a strip mall outside Queensland, then just bought everything I could. The rest, as they say—”
“Is history.” Langdon and I looked up to see a woman I didn’t know. He didn’t seem to know her either. She had long, chestnut hair and a very angular face, more handsome than pretty. She handed him a business card and said, “Langdon Cane, I’m Adrienne Devereaux from Hulu. I heard you were in town and I just couldn’t believe it. And now here we are, taking a meeting!”
“I never consented to take a meeting with you or anyone from Hulu,” Langdon said.
I said to her, “I think you’d better leave us alone, Miss Devereaux.”
Giving me barely a side-glance, Adrienne said, “Shshshsh, honey, the adults are talking.” Then, to Langdon, she went on, “Langdon, you’re the next big reality star, and everybody at Hulu knows it. Forget the chefs and the Kardashians, that’s all so 2010, am I right? But you? You’re in the world of high fashion, and Australia? Americans’ll watch anything Australian! Far as they know, Men at Work are still a thing.”
I muttered, “Who?”
But Adrienne continued to ignore me. “I’m talking about tens of millions of dollars, Mr. Cane.”
“Don’t need it.”
“Worldwide fame.”
“Don’t want it.”
“Look what it did for Donald Trump!”
Langdon pulled out his wallet, dropped a fifty on the table and looked at me. “What do you say we get out of the city for a little while?”
I couldn’t help but smile and extend my hand across the table. “That sounds great.” He took my hand and we stood, Adrienne backing up as we stepped away from the table.
“Just tell me you’ll think about it,” Adrienne said, before realizing he’d left her business card on the table. “Okay, we’ll do lunch again!”