Minnie Chase Makes a Mistake (18 page)

Minnie gasped. ‘This is a respected mathematician you are talking about. It is research that has received an incredible response from…’

‘Exactly!’ roared Levchin, interrupting, making Minnie jump. ‘He’s a mathematician not a medical professional.’

Minnie shook her head, adamantly. ‘I won’t do it.’

‘Issue the statement,’ Greene commanded. 

‘I’m more than happy to make a public apology,’ explained Minnie. ‘But I’m
not
going to lie and I’m
definitely
not going to discredit someone who’s involved in not-for-profit research projects.’ She directed this last point at Levchin who flashed her a curious smile. It wasn’t an illuminating one. It possessed a certain smugness that suggested he knew Minnie was well below sea level without sufficient oxygen to get back to the top.

13

Million little pieces

Then Greene abruptly announced he was leaving. The food on his plate remained untouched. He strode out of the room, leaving Minnie and Levchin glaring at each other across the table – a jagged landscape of cutlery, crockery and glassware between them.

Levchin said, ‘Mr Greene has far-reaching investments beyond South African minerals and oil.’

Minnie replied carefully, ‘I’m aware of his portfolio.’ 

‘He owns pets. He
loves
pets.’ The doctor’s grape-colored eyes glistened. ‘He’s also particularly interested in quantitative economics and 3D graphics.’

The air temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees and it wasn’t the result of aggressive air conditioning. Minnie suppressed a shiver. She addressed Levchin sharply. ‘Your point is?’

‘Mr Greene has told me he takes a keen interest in young entrepreneurial talent – successful businesses such as, oh, Howl Couture and Row Reduction, for example.’

Angie and James George. The two people most dear to her in the whole world, outside of her own family. 

‘You’re a mathematician, Miss Chase. We know you know
all
about profit and loss.’

‘My friends have nothing to do with this,’ Minnie answered in a measured voice. Serious dread was starting to set in.

‘Greene giveth and Greene taketh away,’ whispered Levchin creepily.

Putting Greene on a pedestal alongside the Almighty was adding a worrying twist to the situation.

‘Bankruptcy is a terrible fate to befall a small business,’ stated Levchin. He was warming to this theme. ‘Your friends are dependent on Internet business. Drive traffic away from their sites and business goes down.’

‘I know how it works,’ snapped Minnie.

‘I’m not sure you do.’ 

‘I said I’m happy to make an apology,’ said Minnie, shifting in her seat now.

‘And the rest,’ Levchin said dictatorially.  

‘No.’

‘Yes.’

‘He can’t do this,’ said Minnie, frustrated.

Levchin flashed the now-familiar crocodile smile as he began to make his point. ‘Ashton Greene is a master of financial metamorphosis. He can melt down small businesses and mould them into bigger, more lucrative ones. In this respect he is as impersonal as a machine. However, he is also incredibly politically connected. He will take down your friends and he will come after you. You’ve already lost your job but he will ensure that your career is over. Greene will make sure that
no one
will employ you in the future.’ He leaned towards Minnie and whispered, ‘Greene can do anything he wants.’ 

‘He is not a monster,’ said Minnie, shaking her head. She was determined not to be intimidated.

Levchin leaned forward and the words rolled off his tongue. ‘Howl Couture and Row Reduction.’ 

Minnie leaned back. ‘You are not seriously suggesting that Greene would sabotage thriving businesses simply to get back at me?’

He stared at her. There was a strange glassiness in the expression as though he had solar-powered implants in his eyes. He answered carefully, ‘I think that’s the very least he would do, don’t you?’

Minnie stood up slowly and backed away from the table. She suddenly felt very uncomfortable being alone in the room with Levchin. His eyes were starting to alarm her. He looked as though he possessed telekinetic powers, able to throw her across the room with a flick of his fingers. 

The dark, twisted smile on his face began to show real malice. ‘You know what you did was wrong,’ he whispered.

Minnie turned without saying a word and quickly exited the room closing the door quietly behind her.

Minnie stood with her back to the dining room door and tried to regulate her breathing. She was absolutely furious and terribly frightened. Had Greene
instructed Levchin to do his dirty work for him. Minnie was desperate to speak to Greene alone but that hadn’t worked too well the last time she tried. But she was determined to get to the bottom of the monstrous demands and threats Levchin had made. 

Greene had disappeared again, sucked back into his reclusive world that filtered people in via selection process and appointment only. Tracking him down was a full-time occupation. It was fortunate that her career was on hold at the moment.

Then she spotted a Dragonet. He was instantly recognisable because of his body shape. He had a broad-shouldered, muscular torso that dramatically narrowed to his slim hips. He was standing outside a door, looking like a sentry on duty, arms across that muscular chest. Guarding Greene?

Minnie’s natural reaction to Dragonets since the Taser incident was to run screaming in the opposite direction but she stood her ground.   

He turned automatically, like a superhuman cyborg, and stared at her. Neither of them moved. Minnie’s eyes flitted from his eyes to his hands to make sure he wasn’t reaching for a weapon.

Do Dragonets hold a conversation? Minnie wondered. She got the feeling that even if he did, he wouldn’t be open to negotiation, so she opened her mouth and yelled out as loud as she could. Fear, anger and frustration gave power to her voice: ‘ASHTON GREENE COME OUT AT ONCE! I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE!’

There was a stunned silence. Minnie’s words boomed and then were quickly absorbed into the rich furnishings. The Dragonet’s lip curled into a snarl. He walked towards Minnie, feline footsteps on the luxurious thick-pile carpet.

Minnie yelled out again, even louder this time. ‘I DEMAND TO SPEAK WITH YOU. COME OUT. RIGHT NOW.’ 

Silence.

‘I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME.’

The whole of San Francisco could probably hear her. Her own voice was ringing inside her head, hammer on a bronze bell.

The Dragonet moved in front of her and grabbed Minnie’s arm. It was like a steel pincer sinking into her flesh. She howled louder than ever and tried to squirm free but the Dragonet and his superhuman grip allowed no wriggle-room for Minnie.

‘OWWEEEEEE,’
screamed Minnie. Her arm was still sore from the high-voltage charge administered a few days ago.

Levchin flung open the dining room door, chewing food, looking irritated. ‘What the hell is going on? Stop that dreadful noise at once,’ he shouted.

‘Let her go,’ commanded another voice. Minnie turned her gaze away from Levchin and saw Greene standing quietly behind the Dragonet. ‘I said let her go!’ He didn’t raise his voice but it was a full-force instruction. Reluctantly, the Dragonet released his grip and flicked Minnie off like a broken ladybird. 

Minnie stood shivering, rubbing her arm. ‘I want to speak with you,’ she said to Greene. ‘And I’m not leaving here until I do.’

Greene said they could talk in the bar. Levchin was sent back to finish his lunch with no objection on his part. He glared at Minnie, the evil stare. The Dragonet was brusquely dispatched back to his post outside the door.

It was the first time Minnie had ever been alone with Greene. The bar staff had blended into the background, discreet to the point of invisibility.

‘I own this place,’ said Greene, staring at the bottles behind the bar, an impressive mirror behind the bottles.  ‘I control who comes and goes. It keeps out the undesirables and the hangers-on.’

‘Oh, right,’ said Minnie. She wondered if this was a direct dig at her but it seemed to be an innocuous comment. 

‘There is a cinema room. I like to watch movies alone,’ he added.

Minnie figured he liked to do as much as possible alone. 

Minnie followed his gaze across the bar and realised he wasn’t looking at the bottles but the mirror behind. She knew it wasn’t for vanity reasons; he was serious and watchful, like he was looking out for someone approaching them from behind. Like there was a realistic possibility he might get shot in the back of the head. 

Minnie looked around the bar. The decor had Greene’s signature touch: matt black paintwork. Minnie had a sudden alarming thought: Greenefinger instead of Goldfinger. She pictured an enduring image that would haunt her parents forever – their daughter, Minnie Chase, found face down, dead on a bed in San Francisco, painted top to toe in matt black.

‘Dr Levchin has made it clear what you will do if I don’t issue a denial regarding your health,’ said Minnie.

‘I told him to handle the situation. He is an incredibly smart man; therefore, I trust his judgement,’ replied Greene. 

‘You don’t want to know what he said to me?’ Minnie was astounded at this.

‘I don’t need to know. I don’t need to get involved. It’s called “delegation”. It’s what successful people do.’ There was an edge to his voice.

‘Delegation?’ repeated Minnie, starting to shake with rage. ‘It’s called blackmail. Isn’t it enough that you had me Tasered and thrown in jail?’

She was just about to launch into a full-scale rant including how it felt to be Tasered not to mention being traumatised by her time in jail when Greene interrupted. He had an utterly commanding presence. 

‘Why are you still here?’ he asked. He looked at her reflection in the mirror instead of turning to face her. 

He didn’t wait for an answer. He said, ‘What is it that you want, Miranda? What will it take to make you go home – an upgrade to first class?’

Minnie’s anger suddenly vapourised and she blurted, ‘I feel terrible.’

He actually laughed. ‘Is that supposed to make me feel better?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘You blindsided me,’ said Greene in a quiet voice that was more terrifying than a shouty one.

‘I’m deeply sorry.’

‘You embarrassed me and hurt my business.’

‘I know.’ 

‘At least be honest. What was the plan? Sabotage the deal, get fired, and bring the deal to another business who offered you a lucrative bump?’

Wow, more credit than I deserve,
thought Minnie. To be so ruthlessly driven was reserved for characters much more glamorous than her.

‘This makes no sense,’ said Minnie, sharper than intended. ‘I wouldn’t be here, would I? I’d be off somewhere else signing such a deal.’

‘You speculate about my health in public for no good reason?’ He sounded incredulous.

‘I was trying to help.’

‘You made it a million times worse.’

‘I know.’ Minnie despaired. How she wished she could take back what she had said. If only dinner at The Savoy had gone to plan. She would have a job. She would never have returned home early to find her husband-to-be in bed with… she would have been blissfully oblivious to his cheating heart. The truth was overrated.
No one needs to know what lies beneath
, thought Minnie. 

Greene looked exhausted. Minnie wished for sleep, too. 

‘Please let me help you,’ she said.

‘There is no cure.’ He sounded so desperate. He sat forward with his head in his hands. 

Minnie didn’t react. Emotions were not going to save the situation. 

She said in a neutral voice, ‘Medication will ease the symptoms. I’ve done some research.’

‘You don’t give up, do you?’

She thought about James George. She wouldn’t give him up either. 

‘This disease sends out the wrong message,’ whispered Greene. ‘How can I generate confidence in business deals when I can’t even control hand tremors. It is a
weakness
.’ He spat out the last word, tortured. ‘I’m a genetic freak.’

‘It’s not a personality defect. It’s a disease.’

‘I fucking know that! Chronic and progressive, which means the symptoms will grow worse.’

Minnie scrabbled to find words to save the situation. ‘Scientists are working on a cure.’

‘It’s not about finding the cure,’ snapped Greene, irritated at Minnie’s naiveness. ‘There is no money to be made in a
cure
!’ He bit down on his lip angrily. ‘It’s about the prescription drugs and making more profits. Look at Levchin. It buys him more clinics.’

‘What do you get out of this association with Levchin?’ asked Minnie bewildered.

Greene sat stony faced. ‘He buys me more time.’

‘I want to help. I know everything there is to know about the natural gas deal. I’ve also talked to your, um, Parker.’ Minnie didn’t feel the word fiancée would go down well at this moment. ‘You’re not taking her calls.’

Greene sighed, irritably. 

‘She cares about you,’ Minnie added. 

He finished his drink and signalled for another one.

‘She
has
tried to contact you.’

‘So why are you here and not her?’ he asked.

‘She didn’t want to get Tasered,’ answered Minnie blithely. ‘The prospect of jail-time also put her off. No room service.’

She was rewarded with a small smile. 

‘Players or politicians, it’s still one big game. A serious one but a game nevertheless. And once you’re out, you’re out. A loser,’ he said. ‘Nothing else matters.’

‘I don’t think anyone can write you off as a loser,’ replied Minnie firmly. ‘Trust me, right now, I own the global rights to the “loser” label.

‘Is that what you think?’ asked Greene, turning to look at her.

‘There’s only one person out of a job in this room and it’s not you,’ said Minnie with a shrug.

‘She ran out on me,’ said Greene, bitterly disappointed.