Crimson Footprints Part 26

Deena's cell phone vibrated from its resting place in her purse. She glanced down at her lap and willed herself not to peek. Turning to Daichi, she willed herself to concentrate on the cut of his Armani suit, the polish of his Prada shoes, the glare of his face. The phone vibrated again. She peeked.

Thought of U. Thinking of me? Call when U can Deena ran a finger along the screen, as if in touching the words she might touch Tak. Of course, she was thinking of him. She was becoming incompetent from thinking of him.

Hurriedly, she punched in a response.

In meeting. Call after. Dad looks mad.

Deena raised her gaze to Daichi as he paced.

"Whenever there is an economic downturn you will find that the building industry will suffer exponentially. A look out the window will show you that construction has all but halted in this city. Our economic crisis is a global one, with far reaching ramifications," Daichi said.

Deena's phone vibrated. She glanced down. From his seat next to her, Herb West scowled; his distaste with her inattention clear.

Tell him you'd much rather hear what his s.e.xy a.s.s son has to say.

Deena stifled a giggle, and rushed to reply.

I'll need his s.e.xy a.s.s son to support me after this conversation is done.

Deena stared into her purse, waiting impatiently for her phone to vibrate. The answer was quick.

U got it.

"Deena? Deena, I'd like to hear your thoughts."

She snapped to attention. "Sir?"

"Your thoughts. I find you often have an opinion. I'd like to hear it now."

Oh s.h.i.+t.

Each gaze turned on her.

"Well, Daichi, I agree with you."

"You do?"

"Yes, sir. Absolutely."

She had to stick firm. Wavering now would invite more questions.

Daichi stared, everyone stared, until beads of sweat wet Deena's forehead. She thumbed the phone in her lap, unwilling to move and draw attention to it. She rushed to remember a snippet of speech. Something about construction demand waning.

Deena cleared her throat. "It's...inevitable that our industry would suffer. A recession prompts people to panic, to save, not spend. Without demand, there's no need for supply. That's basic economics."

They gasped. Deena looked around, wondering what she'd said, only to see Daichi's scowl melt into quiet admiration.

"I find your candor in this matter a mark of maturity and confidence. A bold, yet necessary statement, Deena, considering the numbers I've ill.u.s.trated."

He turned back to the board, using a wooden pointer for emphasis as he spoke.

"The Miami location, our largest as headquarters, will see the biggest layoffs at 20%. Our offices in Tokyo, London, Mumbai and Mexico City will experience major cutbacks as well, not only in architects employed, but in support staff as well. As I've already indicated, I expect a fifteen percent decrease in overall personnel, effective immediately."

Daichi turned to Deena with a smile, oblivious to the horror dawning on her face.

"Again, Ms. Hammond, thank you for reiterating the need for this in plain speak. As always, your candor and astuteness is appreciated."

Lunch would have to be brief. Daichi's meeting had been an unexpected part of her day, and as such, had eaten into time she would've spent on the project. With a site selected and the design plans finalized, they were scheduled to break ground at the start of the new year. That meant that Deena was in project management mode.

She glanced at her watch. She had forty minutes to eat and make to the meeting with the Skylife investors. As Deena stepped out of the conference room however, Daichi stopped her.

"A moment of your time, please."

Deena moved out of the steady stream of exiting architects and joined Daichi near his dry erase board.

"You'll be meeting with the investors alone today."

Deena's eyes widened. "What? Why?"

"Because I have a scheduling conflict. And because you're capable of doing so."

Deena's breathing shallowed. "Yes, sir."

"You'll be fine, Deena."

"Yes, sir."

"You may go now. Unless there's something you'd like to say."

She wanted to tell him that she hadn't been listening, that she never would've stated in such cavalier terms the need to lay off so many people. Better than two hundred of them, gone because she'd been text messaging his son.

"Deena?' Daichi said when she failed to respond.

"Yes, sir?"

"Something on your mind?"

"No sir. I'm leaving,"

Deena scurried from the conference room, head cowed.

"It must be nice to know you've got job security at what...nineteen?" Sam Michaels said from his spot behind Deena in line at the lunch truck.

"Ah, but what it must cost," Donald Mason sighed. "Still, some women find it easier than others, I suppose."

Deena swallowed hard in an effort to keep her eyes trained on the selection before her. Tuna on rye. Ham, turkey, bologna, all with American cheese. A Caesar salad with wilted lettuce.

"He's got great taste though. She's young, firm, got everything in all the right places. He could do worse," Herb said as the line moved.

Donald laughed. "At this firm? Easily!"

She would get the turkey. She would get the turkey and an apple. With twenty-five minutes to spare, she would take her lunch under a tree somewhere far from Sam and Donald and gross speculation. The line moved again. Two more until Deena's turn.

"Still, if she's gonna be a wh.o.r.e, he shouldn't be the only one to benefit. Senior staff should be able to pet.i.tion for perks. Blouses with lower cuts..."

"And hand jobs on the side," Sam added.

Donald hooted in approval.

Hand jobs on the side.

And so it was that Deena was a wh.o.r.e again. With her grandfather, Eddie Hammond, in the ground nearly a decade and a single lover in her life, she'd been reduced to that emblazoned word once again. Wh.o.r.e. She brushed away hot tears as she ordered turkey. Underneath her tree, she would find the bread stale and the lettuce wilted. In this world as Daichi's prized protege, nothing was what it promised to be.

CHAPTER FORTY.

"You know," said William Lewis Henderson, "I have a real problem with the way the bottom line on this project keeps inflating. We've seen an additional fifty million dollar increase since the initial estimate-"

"Well sir, we've made some changes, changes that you were among the first to approve. Remember?" Deena said.

"Of course I remember!"

Henderson was a pale and portly man, red-faced in his anger, with sunken silver eyes and never-ending beads of sweat. His suit was Versace, his shoes Armani and his gold pinkie ring inlaid with diamonds. He rolled gray eyes in impatience. "What time is Daichi arriving?"

Deena sighed. "I've already told you that Daichi won't be joining us."

"We're paying top dollar to work with Daichi Tanaka, not, not some intern," said Maurice Wilc.o.x, the son of James Martin Wilc.o.x of The Wilc.o.x Group.

The Skylife project was the brainchild of William Lewis Henderson and his wife Maria Garcia, a Miami socialite whose family made their riches during the Cocaine Cowboy era. In the late 70s and early 80s, when the majority of cocaine entered the U.S. through Miami, it was by way of families like Maria Garcia's. Years later, the Garcia's reestablished themselves as a respectable family with a history of philanthropy and very deep pockets.

After marrying Maria Garcia, William, a Miami attorney with a brief and spotty political career, established Henderson Properties, the princ.i.p.al investor for the Skylife project. He brought on two other development firms, The Wilc.o.x Group and Allen Young Investors, who provided additional capital for the project.

"I am not an intern," Deena said quietly. "I'm an architect, same as Daichi."

"Oh? Were you in Time magazine as well? How about People? Were you in anything?" That was Maurice.

Deena rubbed her face tiredly. Today was not the day for Maurice's snide remarks. She stared at him as he continued to bark, ruddy face seemingly scorched free of facial hair, jowls jiggling as he spoke.

"Daichi is the principle architect on this project, as you were promised. I work under and answer to him. I can answer whatever questions you might have."

Maurice stared at her, unconvinced. As he opened his mouth, William interrupted him.

"I'd like for you to answer my previous question, which you've made every attempt to ignore. Why has the cost of this project soared from $300 to $350 million?"

"Sir, I've already told you-"

"No. I want you to go over to that dry erase board and line itemize every expenditure for us to see. Then I want you to justify every single expense until we're satisfied. Now," William pointed a single long thick finger at the board behind her.

Deena closed her eyes, tears threatening her. She'd never seen them this way, impatient, belligerent, condescending. She glanced at the door with a simple prayer that she knew would not be answered. Daichi was in his Mercedes en route to Orlando for talks of another major project. She'd heard whispers that it was with one of the major theme parks. He would not be walking through the door for a project he'd already secured, when the enticement of immortality lay at the precipice.

Deena stood and made her way over to the dry erase board. And with her back to the investors and tears pooling in her eyes, she began to write line-by-line the expenditures of a $350 million dollar project. And when Steve Young, the project manager, arrived twenty minutes later, she would be forced to start the presentation from scratch.

Three hours after a meeting that should have taken one, Deena sat at her desk staring at the caller I.D. It was her grandmother.

She greeted her as she dabbed her eyes with Kleenex.

"Don't you 'hi Grandma me.' Where you been? You was supposed to be at your granddaddy service the other day!"

Deena sighed. "Can we talk about this another time? I'm at work and swamped and very stressed."

"No, we can talks about it now. You always at work, always swamped, always stressed. And since we talking about work, when you gone get back on that fellows.h.i.+p hall?"

"I already told you; I don't have time for the fellows.h.i.+p hall."

"And I already told you that you ain't gone shame me. Now where you been? I called your house the other night and ain't gets no answer. Now where you spending your nights?"

"I'm at home every night. I-I was probably just asleep."

"Mhm. Sleep where is the question. When you was supposed to be at your grandpa service you was sleep den, too, I reckon."

"I just...forgot, Grandma."

"Forgot! After all that man done did for you? Supporting you all them years? I reckon you gone do me da same way when I'm dead and gone."

Deena traced a finger along a s.h.i.+ny paper clip. She marveled at how small and slight, how tightly wound, that piece of wire was. Like her. "I have to go, Grandma."

"Go? Your grandfather was just likes a father to you. Better than a father cause he wasn't your father yet he treats you like he was. He was a good man and he done right by you. And you, well you just a ungrateful little-"

Deena slammed the phone into its cradle. She wouldn't take another word of how her grandfather had been the father she never had. Not another G.o.dd.a.m.ned word.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE.

"Dee, baby, I've got awesome news. Guess whose upcoming gallery showing is being featured in The Herald?"