Alpha 1 (5 page)

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Authors: Abby Weeks

Tags: #Fiction, #Literary, #Erotica, #Romance, #Womens, #Suspense, #Contemporary

BOOK: Alpha 1
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“Exactly what you asked for, Holden. Nothing less.”

Holden raised his eyebrows. “Have a seat, Jimmy,” he said as he sat down himself.

The lawyers pulled out their paperwork and spread it on the table. As they did, a man in a white shirt and black vest brought in a tray of coffee and tea.

“Let’s have a look” Holden said as he took the bundle of papers Carter was passing him.

“It’s just a small company,” Carter said.

“Very small,” one of the other lawyers said.

“But they filed patents exactly like the ones you asked for,” Carter continued. He passed Holden some technical drawings that had been taken from the patent application.

“How did you find them?” Holden said.

“The old fashioned way.”

“What’s that?”

“We had some interns sift through every application in the category.”

Holden raised his eyebrows. “Jesus. That must have been a lot of patents.”

“It was,” Carter said. “We could have put out a tender or something but then we’d have alerted the market to what you were looking for.”

“Plus we’d have received thousands of applications matching whatever we asked for,” one of the other lawyers said.

“And we’d have had no way of knowing which was the real deal,” Holden said.

“Exactly.”

Holden passed the technical drawings to Jimmy. “Here, what do you think?”

Jimmy looked at the drawings. “These look like turbocharger drawings.”

Holden looked at his legal team. “See, fellas. See why I brought this guy.”

They smiled and nodded.

“I don’t get it,” Carter said. “What’s so valuable about a turbocharger? It’s a standard engine part, right?”

“I had one on my Camaro forty years ago,” another of the lawyers said.

Carter continued. “If they’re just drawings for a turbocharger, why did you have us scour the patent filings for them? We could have just bought designs like these from a good company. Or licensed them.”

“Not like these, you couldn’t,” Jimmy said. He pointed to a small part of the drawing.

“What’s that?” Carter said.

Jimmy looked at Holden. Holden looked over Jimmy’s shoulder at the drawing. “Perfect,” he said. “This is exactly what I was hoping for. This is real innovation, gentlemen. This is what I had you searching for.”

“What is it?” a lawyer said.

“You answer him, Jimmy,” Holden said. “You’re the expert.”

Jimmy looked up. “Me?”

Holden nodded. Jimmy looked around the table at the seven lawyers. They reminded him of the seven dwarves. He wasn’t used to environments like this, fancy lawyers in suits waiting for him to speak. He took a deep breath and looked down at the schematic. It looked like a regular turbocharger but there was an important difference in this design. There were digital sensors at key parts of the engine’s exhaust system that seemed to tell the turbocharger when to kick in. But that didn’t make sense. There was no point sensing exhaust pressure if there wasn’t enough pressure in the system to power the turbine. Unless….

He looked at another part of the schematic. It was unlike any turbocharging system he’d ever seen. It was even smarter than twincharging. There was a chamber next to the exhaust system that seemed designed to store engine pressure, but it wasn’t clear to Jimmy where the pressure was coming from. The pressure could be used to drive the turbine and pump more oxygen into the engine. If the system worked it would really be something extraordinary.

“You could be on to something here, fellas,” he said to the lawyers.

They stared at him. “How so?” one of them said.

“Well,” Jimmy said, “you ever felt like making your car go faster, more power, more torque, more noise?”

The lawyer who’d spoken looked at Carter. Carter looked around at the other lawyers. They were silent for a minute. Then Carter spoke.

“But there’s no market for this kind of thing now, is there? People want cars that are safer, quieter, more fuel efficient. They don’t want turbo. They want eco.”

Holden smiled. “What do you think, Jimmy? Do you want your car to say eco on the side?”

Jimmy shook his head. “No, but Carter’s got a point. This is not exactly the direction the automotive industry is moving in. Safety, reliability, fuel economy, that’s what the big manufacturers are pursuing. That’s what people want.”

“You’re right,” Holden said. “That’s definitely the way the market is going. And there are very good reasons for that. But I think there’s a market for this sort of thing too. It’s not for everyone, it’s not for the suburban soccer mom who wants to take her kids around safely, but there’s a market for turbocharging. There’s got to be.”

Carter looked around at his team of lawyers. Some of them were nodding. Other’s looked skeptical.

“Look,” Holden said. “I’m not saying we break the bank on this thing. I’m not saying every car in America is going to install a turbo. I’m just saying, some people will be interested in this, old fashioned people, people who remember when cars were more than just vehicles, when they were a statement about who you were.” Holden looked again at the patent application. “And I happen to think it’s a beautiful thing. It’s an innovation that can be retrofitted to the big old engines that made this country great. Can’t you guys get behind an idea like that? It’s magical.”

“It’s nostalgic,” Carter said. “I can see where you’re coming from, Holden. I can see why you’re attracted to the idea, but I don’t know if it’s investable. I mean, the federal regulations on a thing like this alone would take years to navigate.”

“Look,” Holden said. “Not everything’s about money. This is a beautiful idea. I predicted it would be out there if we scoured the patents. You guys proved me right. It’s elegant. It’s nostalgic. It’s masculine. I love it.”

“So you want us to pursue?” Carter said. “The patent owner lives here in New York.”

Holden shook his head. “Don’t you go anywhere near him. If the guy who invented this is anything like I’m picturing, you guys are going to scare the crap out of him.”

“It’s probably a mechanic,” Jimmy said. “No big company is going to put money into something like this. They hate this kind of thing.”

The lawyers nodded. “For good reason,” one of them said.

Holden looked at Jimmy. “Just leave this to us, gentlemen. If a mechanic drew this design, Jimmy and I are the one’s who’ll win him over.”

X

W
HEN LUCY GOT HOME THAT
night she went straight out to the fire escape. The streets below were dark and quiet and abandoned. New York was supposedly the city that never slept but that really only seemed to apply to the hippest neighborhoods. Most of New York, just like every other city in the world, was filled with people who worked hard to make their living and who often struggled to support their families. And if there was one thing Lucy knew about people like that, it was that at the end of the day, they slept. To her, New York was the city that slept as much as it could, and then got up at the crack of dawn the next day and worked hard all over again.

She’d used her tips to buy groceries on the way home. After putting them away she’d come out to the fire escape to think. The air was cooler out here. It was peaceful, calming.

She’d forgotten about the envelope she’d received for most of the day. She’d stuffed it in her locker at work and had been too busy to think about it. Now that the day was over she finally had a chance to look at it. She held it in her hands. Lucy, her name, was printed neatly on the front. The envelope was of richly textured paper. She felt apprehensive as she held it in her hands. She was almost afraid to find out what it contained. She’d heard of waitresses around Wall Street being given crazy requests like this in the past. She had no doubt what the man had in mind when he’d handed her the envelope and kissed her. What else could it be?

She tore it open. Inside was a note with the man’s name, Jefferson Lund, and a phone number. It was written on company paper, Lund Associates, headquartered on Liberty Street. She wasn’t familiar with the company but she was certain if she looked it up she’d find that it was a fancy financial brokerage of one sort or another. She’d known as soon as she set eyes on the man that he was rich and powerful. She tried to think now of what else she’d noticed about him. He was in his mid-thirties, good-looking in the pristine, perfect kind of way that the super wealthy often were. His suit was tailored. His hair was like something out a men’s magazine. He was unusually handsome. But it was still with a sense of strong foreboding that she pulled out the other piece of paper in the envelope.

She should have been surprised when she saw what was on it but she didn’t feel surprised at all. It was a check, a thousand dollars, a thousand badly needed dollars that could take a lot of pressure off of her mother for a few weeks.

She held the check in her hand. She already knew what she was going to do. She went inside and put the check on the table in the kitchen, the place she knew her mother would sit for her coffee in the morning. Then she picked up the phone and brought it back out to the fire escape. She dialed the number that had been written on the paper.

A female voice answered. “Jefferson Lund Associates.”

Lucy was surprised. She’d expected it to be his personal number. Instead it was a business number. It was even more strange that someone was answering at this time of night. It was after eleven.

“Oh,” Lucy said. “I’m sorry, I thought I was calling Mr. Lund directly.”

“May I ask who this is?” the voice said. The woman on the other end of the line was young, probably about Lucy’s age, but she sounded firm, like she was used to explaining things to people and giving them orders.

“This is Lucy Mayfair. I got Mr. Lund’s phone number today.”

“Where did you get it?”

“He gave it to me.”

“Where? Which agency are you with?”

“No,” Lucy said. This was awful. Did the woman think she was a hooker or something? “I’m not with an agency, I was at my work.”

“And where’s that?” the woman continued. She was beginning to sound impatient.

“I’m sorry,” Lucy said. “This is stupid. I shouldn’t have called.”

“Wait,” the woman said. “Are you the one from the diner earlier?”

“The diner, yes. I’m a waitress there.”

“I see,” the woman said. “And you received a check?”

“Yes I did.”

“I see,” the woman said. It sounded as if she was typing at a keyboard. “Would you mind telling me how much the check was for? Usually I’d know but since you’re not with an agency.”

Lucy just wanted to hang up the phone. She’d never felt so demeaned in her life. She was blushing while she sat there on the fire escape. No one was around, thankfully, she was all alone, but even still, she felt so embarrassed and ashamed she almost felt she might burst into tears.

“I shouldn’t have called,” Lucy said.

“Don’t hang up,” the woman said. “If you do the check will be cancelled.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Oh,” Lucy said. She really did want to cry. What was she doing? She didn’t even know. She knew she should hang up the phone but then she thought of the relief her mother would feel when she saw that check on the table in the morning. She’d be able to pay the rent, pay down some utilities, maybe even have a little left over for groceries, baby clothes, essential things like that.

“It’s for a thousand dollars,” Lucy said.

“A thousand dollars,” the woman repeated, typing. “And would you like to proceed to the next stage?”

Lucy had no idea what to say. She had no idea what the next stage would entail. She hadn’t even known arrangements like this existed. All she knew was that if she said no, the check would be worthless and all that relief she’d pictured for her mother would evaporate into nothing.

“Yes,” she said.

“Pardon me?”

Lucy spoke up. “Yes,” she said. “I’d like to proceed.”

“Can you show up tomorrow morning at nine?”

“I think so,” Lucy said. “I start work at eleven.”

“This won’t take long,” the woman said.

“Alright. Where do you want me? The address on Liberty Street?”

The woman let out a little laugh. “God, no,” she said. “Don’t go near that office. That’s where Mr. Lund meets his clients. If you show up there he’s likely to have you arrested.”

“I see,” Lucy said.

“You can present yourself to my office at 600 Park Avenue. Tell the doorman you’re there for hospitality services.”

“Okay,” Lucy said. “Thank you.”

The woman hung up. Lucy put the phone down. She felt a little numb. She had no idea what she’d just gotten herself into, what she’d agreed to. All she knew was that she was going to do whatever she had to do for her family.

XI

H
OLDEN AND JIMMY SPENT THE
afternoon on a car Jimmy had picked up in Newark the week before. It was a badly beaten up ’68 Pontiac GTO. Jimmy had bought it for seven grand and was certain he could turn it around for over a hundred if he did everything perfectly. It needed new everything, from the body to the engine to the interior. Mostly they’d been stripping old parts from it so that they could work on the body.

It was after eleven by the time they decided to call it a day.

“Let’s go to Ruben’s for a beer,” Jimmy said. “My buy.”

Holden nodded. “Why not?”

They took the rumbling J10 to the bar and Holden was quiet as he drove.

“You okay?” Jimmy said.

“I’m just being stupid,” Holden said. “I didn’t even have any claim on her.”

“You’re not being stupid. You’re just disappointed is all. You liked her. First girl you liked in a couple of years. Nothing wrong with that.”

“And now I’m sulking like a baby.”

“You’ll be alright. She’s got a boyfriend. There are worse things that could happen. There’s plenty more of them out there.”

“Yeah,” Holden said. “But she was different, you know? Something about her.”

Jimmy thought about Lucy. It was true. She definitely was different from most girls. He wasn’t quite sure what it was about her but she stood out.

“Well, maybe she’ll break up with that guy.”

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