O Hell No

"I need a favor", huffed out an impatient Ellis Garcia from the opposite side of the table. We were both sitting at one of those swanky roof-top cafes in LA.

I took a bite of my cilbir. Emir had gotten me into this unfortunate habit of having cilbir, a Turkish version of poached eggs. The cool garlic yogurt and the creamy egg yolk melted on my tongue. It removed a lot of unpleasantness.

"Of course, anything for you Ellis.", I replied playing it cool. I already knew what she was going to ask. I already knew what I was going to ask in return. It was practised and rehearsed. It was like a scripted reality show.

"There is a delicate matter, I need you to attend to."

I raised my eyebrows while taking a sip of the cay(Turkish tea) .

She was fiddling nervously with her pearl necklace.

"My daughter was rejected from Aslan-Lemaire after the first round of interviews. She didn't get a call back. You handle PR. I was hoping you would....make a recommendation."

I smiled inwardly.

The fish had taken the bait.

"Aslan-Lemaire has ordered a hiring freeze as you know. I would have done something but it's out of my hands."

She looked around nervously and then whispered pointedly, "It would be much appreciated."

"If you insist, Ellis, I can look into it.", I said vaguely, not making any promises yet.

"It will certainly aid my decision if you look out for me as I am looking out for you.", I continued with a smile.

Mrs. Garcia was nothing if not perspective.

"There are talks of a vote.", she said rotating her coffee mug gently. " There are talks of you returning back to the company."

"There are always whispers.", I shrugged.

"If you secure this internship for my daughter, I can make the scales tip in your favor.", she offered.

Little did she know that the scales were already tipped in my favor.

But whatever.

The less she knew, the easier it would be.

I gave her my winning smile.

She stood, straightening her dress.

"Right, well! Should my daughter expect a call next week?", she reconfirmed.

"I will personally give her one."

She put her shades on and left.

Two tables away, someone neatly folded the LA Times neatly and gave me a tiny smirk.

Then, the said person came over to my table and tried to steal a bite of my cilbir.

I smacked his hand with the spoon.

"Get your own egg, Aslan.", I mock growled.

"I take it that went well. There's no blood on the tablecloth.", he said pretending to examine the table.

I laughed.

"I am a professional, Emir. I never leave evidence behind.", I quipped.

The waiter served him a fresh pot of tea.

"It seems that there is a fundraiser tonight, at the Chateau Fontainebleau.", he mentioned casually.

"Not any more of those darn things, Emir. Every evening it's a gala Or a party or a soiree or a damn fundraiser. It's tiring.", I said warily.

"It's a good cause."

"Not convinced. If free champagne and networking are good causes, then I'm not going. I can just donate anonymously. Give me a number, I'll write a check."

"It's a charity for supporting abused women.", he said softly. That hit too close to home.

The way he looked at me intensely as if he could see my scars.

"Take a look at this."

He handed me a thick cream envelope. It was sealed with red wax. The paper wasn't cheap either, it was handmade and barricaded in a heavy gold border. Scribbled in a neat, italic script

"I sincerely look forward to seeing you and Ms. Bianchi at the fundraiser."

-Jane Marconi

I looked up sharply.

"That note came with the invitation. It seems Jane Marconi has taken a certain interest in you.", Emir said.

If the Financial District from 4th to 8th Street was a fish tank, then Jane Marconi was the biggest, baddest, shark to swim in those waters. She was Name Partner at Cassano, Marconi and Griffiths, having made a name for herself as the leading premier of Mergers and Acquisitions in LA. Her track record was legendary and she was responsible for merging and buying out some of the biggest businesses in the 1990's and 2000s. She had her fingers in all sorts of businesses from investment banking to stock trading. Nothing happened in the Financial District without her knowing about it.

Yet she had had humble beginnings. As a biracial woman, who was never 'white' enough to be considered a rising star or 'black' enough to be considered an icon, she had carved her own niche. Rising from a lowly paralegal to the status of the 100 Most Powerful Women In Business, she had seen it all. That was what had convinced me to bring her on board in my company.

She had always been a silent partner though, quietly staying in the background.

She struck me as someone who was so powerful that she content herself to watch us lowly peasants fight. She was always a block of ice, watching and learning.

And now Jane Marconi had decided to take an interest in me.

I didn't know whether to be flattered or intimidated.

I went with the first one.

"Jane Marconi's soirees are notoriously exclusive. She is personally inviting you. She wants to talk shop.", Emir stated.

"I was looking for a way in with her and now that I have it.....I am not so sure....", I trailed off.

"Relax"

His warm hand engulfed mine.

"We are almost there. One last battle to win before the kingdom is yours. You are going to do fine.", he assured me.

I wasn't so sure. In fact I was close to hyperventilating, because I could still lose everything.

But, he was there. Emir was there, right by me and even though he was eating all of my delicious breakfast, I found that I was not angry. Not angry at all.

___________

"Ok, no. 47, please step into that black sequined pearl dress.", shouted Andy, a floor assistant.

"So, for hair we are thinking exaggerated and romantic pompadours and pouffes. This collection will be heavily inspired by French styles, so you know.....a bit of lace, hair extensions...", the art director explained to the hair care team.

The entire auditorium was jam packed.

Models stepped in and out, talking animatedly.

Last fittings before a show were always hectic.

"Ok, lighting department, please follow Kwame into the cabin for detailed instructions.", I coordinated.

"Lola, I want the seating arrangement list coordinated. Make sure that Anna Diaz of The Met is sitting beside me. I want all A-listers in the front row. Private clients, kings, queens.....knights!", I exclaimed.

"Done.", Lola said typing away on her Mac.

I started walking around the stage.

"When are the shoes going to be delivered?", I asked.

"Tonight. 8 pm.", she said.

"Have the boots broken in. They are hard to get into otherwise.", I instructed.

"What about refreshments?", I asked Garry from the catering company.

"Hors d'oeuvres, avocado bruschetta, oysters Rockefeller, Honey-mint lamb skewers, coconut rum ball pops, caviar and creme fraiche tartlets, crostini. We have a full bar for the guests but a flute of Dom Perignon will be served with the appetizers."

"Better to cross Oysters Rockefeller off our list. Anaphylactic shock and subsequent death will probably take the highlight out of the show. ", I mused.

"Oysters Rockefeller will no longer be served. I will inform catering.", he agreed with a laugh

"What about something Turkish?", I questioned him.

"Eh! We can try having some savory baklava cups or some sweet lokum on skewers. They are not traditionally served as appetizers.", he informed me.

"Well, can you make them small enough to pass as finger foods?"

"We'll be able to do it, I think", Gary said.

"Parfait.", I agreed in French. When stressed, I tended to speak different languages.

"Lola, I need you to check in with sound, see if they could get the checks done. Also, I am gonna need one full walk on the runway to confirm everything.", I said hurriedly coming back to her.

"Relax! Sana. Sound has given the go-ahead, everything is ready at the back-stage. You need to calm down.", she soothed.

"I can't. This has to be perfect. This is for Emir, to remind him that art is worth living for. It's the most important battle I am fighting.", I told her.

Truth to be told, everyone here was a professional. They were excellent at their job. But, I had to double-check everything. That was what a good leader did. A good leader had her ears to the ground.

"Did he design that dress he talked about?", she asked me once we reached a quiet corner.

"I don't know. I will meet him back at the office and let you know.", I snapped. We have been going round and round on this issue.

" Well....I'll just keep a spot open.", she said uncertain.

"Sorry, Lola....I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just....this is the hard part of the issue.", I explained.

"You know.....we never thought he would laugh again but here he is actually smiling once in a blue moon. If anyone can melt the ice shell he has built around himself, it's you."

"Damn you! You handsome stubborn mule.", I swore.

Lola laughed.

____________

"This dress is an accident waiting to happen. I think I will flash somebody by the end of the evening.", I tell Emir, the moment I step into his black Mercedes.

"You can flash me. I wouldn't mind.", he responded dryly.

"Hmmm.....wouldn't you want that to happen mister?", I joked.

" I think you look incredible in red. It's your colour. "

And the memories of Ethan started flooding in. It was a peculiar sense of deja vu.

"Sana....hey.....you alright?", he asked looking sideways.

"Ethan used to say that.", I told him on a whim. " He loved me in red. He called me The Lady in Red."

"Did he now?", he asked.

" Yes.", I responded looking down at the diamond bracelet. The light refracted off the surface creating a visage of colours.

"You don't talk about him that often.", he said softly.

"It's just.....Ethan is a bit of an open wound. He's in Afghanistan on a peacekeeping mission with the UN and the Red Cross. I am very proud of him but......I.....just......I miss him so much. He is awfully busy. It's been a month since we last talked. He has been working some things out on his own.", I said vaguely.

"You love him.", he noted, staring straight ahead. There was no awkwardness of that night. It was as if our fight had been a forgone conclusion. I was thankful for that.

"More than life itself. He is my rock.", I whispered.

"When is he coming back?", he asked.

" He is supposed to be back at the end of this year.", I said, folding my hands together.

"That's about a month from now. Then, you'll be together again."

"As if it's that easy.", I scoffed.

" Why?", he asked. Then he seemed to realize that he was overstepping and apologized immediately.

"No, actually. It's time I talked about this. Our lives are messed up right now. Then there is all the drama with the company, there is my son. We have our own demons to fight through.", I said realizing for the first time how much had happened in the span of a year.

"You have love. That's all that matters. You will pull through.", he said decisively.

" And you? Will you pull through?", I asked putting my hand on his on the wheel.

We stopped at a light.

"I don't have a reason.", he said.

" And love is not always enough. You know that.", I countered.

"I know.", he looked away.

" Find your reason, Emir because I am not going to let you go. ever."

He placed a quick kiss on my cheeks.

"Sneaky bastard.", I muttered.

" You know you love me.", he grinned. He grinned more easily now.

It was a joy to have his eyes twinkle with mischief.

"I know I do."

__________

"Enjoying yourself, Ms. Bianchi?",a voice sounded beside me at the bar.

Raffle. Auction. Ballroom dancing and then a lavish 16 course meal. Jane Marconi had pulled all the stops to make this fundraiser the event of the year. It was a testament to her being a most generous host. All proceeds would go to the charity, she supported.

But, I decided to be honest.

"It's a bit too extravagant for me. ", I replied.

Jane Marconi raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"Aren't you honest?", she said with biting humor.

" I endeavour to be.", I shrugged.

"Well, let's get you some champagne. Alcohol always makes these things easier to get through.", she winked at me.

"I would rather have a whiskey. A Macallan 25, neat.", I ordered at the bar.

"The lady knows her alcohol.", she said raising her eyebrow.

" I was raised Catholic."

The bartender handed me one. I caught Emir's eye and he gave me a slight nod, returning back to his conversation with some socialite.

"Let us move to somewhere private.", she said leading to one of the private rooms in the corner.

" I didn't expect you show. You ceremoniously avoided parties before joining Aslan-Lemaire.", she commented.

"I was persuaded.", I answered vaguely.

"Ah! Yes! Emir Aslan and you make quite the pair.", she said sipping her champagne.

I didn't respond.

" You didn't deny it."

I had caught Jane Marconi off guard.

"I have learnt that are far better things in life than giving in to rumours.", I said pointedly.

Jane Marconi smiled sharply.

" Is it a rumor? I see the way he looks at you.", she said sipping her drink.

"Why are we really here Jane?", I asked her.

" To talk. To discuss certain things. To have a good time.", she said mysteriously.

I waited for her to speak.

"You have been talking to shareholders, into out voting Juliana as CEO.", she said.

"I have and I am determined to get back to the position that is rightfully mine.", I said sipping the whiskey. The smooth taste was a fiery burn in my throat.

"As you are aware, I own 28% of the shares. That's a substantial amount and I am not convinced that you are the woman for the job.", she said cynically.

"And Juliana Bianchi is?", I asked.

"I didn't say that. She is controllable.", she quipped.

"I can neither bribe you, nor threaten you, Jane. I can simply convince you to do what is best for the company. I built this from the grassroots to the cloud. I have the vision and the perseverance to make it happen. I made it happen. Over and over again. Impossible targets. Unbelievable profits. The issue with the inventory happened because Jules tampered with factory setting.", I told her.

I hadn't told a soul about it. She was the first one to know.

She was clearly struck.

"I.....That is some incriminating talk. I hope you have proof to back it up.", she said clutching her pearls.

"I don't. Jules confessed. We looked but there wasn't proof of tampering. She is too smart for that. But, you are smart Jane. You know Jules managed the LA manufacturing divisions.", I said.

" Will you call for a vote?", she asked.

"Do I have yours first?", I insisted stubbornly.

She laughed.

" You remind me of myself from a long time ago.", she said. "Actually, who am I kidding. I am still a shark."

"Well?", I prompted.

"Yes, you have.", she said simply. " Of course there will be stipulations. But, that's only after you have got the remaining four per cent for a 50.1% majority."

"I will have it.", I asserted.

"Did you really think she would manage?", I asked.

"O hello No! She is just easier to keep on a leash."

_________

"We did it!", I screamed as we stepped into Emir's car. On an impulse, I kissed him on the cheek and then bear-hugged him.

" Jesus! You did it.", he said laughing.

"Oh, my God! We just have 4 percent left to buy. We are going to have a majority.", I laughed incredulously at the turn of the tables.

"You did, Sana. You killed it."

My phone rang.

I picked it up.

"Ms.Bianchi. I am calling from Bellvue hospital. Your son....."