Love Me Now (3 page)

When Tony and Madison dropped them off before dawn, they were peacefully asleep in their baby beds. He expected them to remain that way, at least for a while. But as soon as the door closed they woke up, and he'd been running around ever since—five hours, twenty-three minutes and a few odd seconds.

The cereal-covered kitchen floor crunched underfoot. Trey lifted his bare feet and grimaced. It had taken him half the morning just to get them dressed and fed. Most of the food was still on him, on them and all over the kitchen. He peeled the French toast he'd cooked off the floor and refrigerator then grabbed a broom.

It took thirty-three minutes to clean the kitchen although it usually only took fifteen. He looked at his watch. Tokyo would be opening in a few hours. He needed to review Friday's closing numbers to get a jumpstart on the market. It was a holiday here in the States but not in the rest of the world. Business was business and he never lost sight of that.

He went into the dining room and peered into the playpen. The twins were innocently playing with their toys. They looked up at him, then at each other. Trey squinted warily, sensing a possible coup in progress. He knelt down to eye level as they stood holding on to the mesh-padded sides. They smiled, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

His cousin, Madison, and her husband, Tony, had created two adorable children. With large brown eyes, fat cheeks and perfect pouty mouths, they looked more like cherubs than toddlers.

“I get the feeling you two know exactly what you're doing.” They giggled. He couldn't help but laugh, too. “All right, you two, so here's the deal—play nice and let your cousin Trey watch the business report. Afterward, I'll let you have ice cream and pizza for lunch, okay?”

They laughed again then babbled something only the two of them understood. One reached out and grabbed his ear and the other grabbed his nose. Trey chuckled as he hugged them close. “Okay, I'll take that as a goodwill handshake.”

He sat them back down in the playpen then went into the living room. He picked up the remote control and turned on the television. A large high-definition flat screen brightened
as a cartoon character happily jumped from letter to letter. He reached down and removed the DVD and placed it on the side table. He removed his syrup-stained T-shirt, sat down and then turned to the business channel. Finally, peace and quiet. He was back in control.

He attached his Bluetooth earpiece, grabbed his glasses, opened his briefcase and pulled out his laptop.

Tokyo would be opening in a few hours and then London. He focused on Treasury numbers and market volume and activity. He believed that trading would be heavy when the market opened. He e-mailed his instructions to his associates overseas. They sent confirmations almost immediately, with hard copy to be special-delivered to him within the hour.

Everything would be handled exactly as he instructed. Confident in his decisions, he took off the syrup-stained T-shirt, sat back and waited for the market to open. He may not have been in the office, but for all practical purposes, the office was wherever he was. He watched intently as numbers flashed. Ten minutes later his eyelids drooped. He jerked awake, then a few minutes after that he dozed off.

A crash woke him up, then the house phone rang, his cell phone rang and the doorbell chimed. He looked at his watch—he'd been asleep for only twenty minutes. He grabbed the remote to silence the television. Pushing the wrong button, the sound level blared instead. He quickly turned it off, grabbed his cell beside him and then ran to the playpen. “Hello,” Trey answered hastily, with his Bluetooth still in his ear.

“Hey, Trey, you all right? What's going on?” Tony asked. Trey didn't answer right away. “Trey, you there? Everything okay?”

Trey cleared his husky throat and half chuckled as the doorbell chimed again. He looked down at the empty playpen.
“Yeah, yeah, of course everything's okay. What, did you think I couldn't handle it? I got this.” He saw that a toy, some books and a stack of CDs had been pulled to the floor. He picked them up and tossed them in the playpen. “I told you, man, don't worry,” he said calmly as he looked around in a panic and quickly scanned the area. There was no sign of the twins. He hurried to the kitchen following a trail of CDs.

“They're my twins, Trey, and sometimes even I can't handle them,” Tony confessed. “You sound rushed, panicked.”

“I'm fine, we were just playing hide-and-seek.”

“What…hide-and-seek?” Tony exclaimed.

“I'm joking, I'm joking, man, chill,” Trey said, charging into the kitchen. The twins were sitting on the floor. They immediately looked up innocently. One had a CD in his mouth and the other was fanning a dish towel around.

“Trey, its Madi. What's going on? Is everything okay there?” Madison said, having obviously taken the phone from her husband. “What's this about hide-and-seek?”

“Calm down, Madi, I was just joking with Tony. The twins are fine, they're right here. Hold on, I'll let you talk to them.” He turned off the Bluetooth and put the cell phone to Jonathan's ear. He said hi, then a few other words, then laughed. “That was Jonathan.”

“I know my son's voice, Trey. Put Johanna on.”

Trey gave Johanna the phone. She grabbed and held it like she knew what she was doing. She smiled happily and talked, answering yes and no mostly. When she started laughing Trey reached for the phone. She held tight. He gently pried the cell away from her. She started whimpering. Trey picked her up. She grabbed at the cell again as he maneuvered away from her reach.

“She really likes this cell phone,” Trey said.

“Johanna loves any phone,” Madison said. “There's a toy
cell phone in one of the bags we brought over this morning. Trey, remember, if you need help, I can always call someone. I think Mamma Lou is probably headed to D.C.”

“No, absolutely not. I'm fine.”

“Trey,” Madison said.

“Madi, not to worry. As a matter of fact we were just about to have a morning snack. The three of us are in the kitchen even as we speak.” The doorbell rang again. He'd forgotten all about it. If that was the nanny Kelly hired, he didn't want her to leave. Holding Johanna securely, he quickly grabbed up Jonathan. With a twin under each arm, he juggled his cell and hurried to the door.

“Trey, are you sure everything's okay?” Madison asked.

“Of course, Madi,” he said easily as he opened the door wide and motioned for the woman to enter. “So how's the flight so far?” he asked, motioning again for her to enter. She just stood there looking as if she were in shock. Madison continued talking. Trey beckoned again; she still didn't budge. She just stood there staring, looking confused. This was his nanny?

 

Kenya Whitaker stood impatiently, waiting for someone to answer the door. Fury clouded her good sense as she rang the bell a sixth time. She'd been ringing the bell for almost five minutes now. She knew someone was home because she heard the television blast, and the crash of something falling from inside.

“Trey Evans.” She steamed silently.

How could anybody be so cruel as to take advantage of someone like her father? Granted, he wasn't the most straight-and-narrow person in the world, but he had a good heart. In the end that's all that really mattered. But the flip side of that was unscrupulous businessmen who preyed on his naiveté.
Men like Trey Evans, who assumed that since they were rich, they ruled the world and everybody in it.

She'd seen it before, those in power taking advantage of those without. It was the shark syndrome, the big fish eating the small ones. They set their own rules and when there was blood in the water they closed in. They had no shame, no sense of morality and no scruples. All they cared about was their own success, even at the expense of someone else.

She looked up at the stylish Woodley Park residence. The large, stately town house was on a modest tree-lined street that cut between the National Zoo, Rock Creek Park and Washington's National Cathedral. It had a gated front yard and was at least three stories high. An eclectic mixture of old and new, like the rest of the row houses, it looked like it had been renovated, restored to look like it was from the nineteenth century. It was typical of what she expected of the area. Apparently, Trey Evans was good at what he did, but then most con men and criminals were. Unfortunately her father found this out the hard way.

Of course she blamed herself. If she'd been more attentive to what was going on, and not so single-mindedly focused on her own goals, maybe she could have stopped this before it got to this point.

Her father's lottery winnings and all her parents' dreams right along with them had been stolen. Five million dollars had just vanished into thin air. It was impossible. How do you wrap your brain around something like that? She still couldn't believe it when her father announced that it was all gone. The image still hung in her mind.

 

“The bad news is that—” James paused, sighed, then swigged more Pepto-Bismol “—I'm broke.”

“Ha-ha, very funny, Dad,” Kenya said, smiling. Her dad
was the worst comedian in the world. If there was a punch line to anything, you could bet he'd mess it up.

“Honey—” Lynette began softly.

“It's no joke,” he said, looking into his wife's eyes. “The money's gone. Bad advice, bad investments, it's just gone. I messed up, but it wasn't my fault. I guess I trusted the wrong man. He took everything. All of it, it's gone.”

“James—”

“Wait, Dad, what do you mean, he took everything? Who? People can't just rip off that much money, just like that, right?”

“Yes, but I made bad investments and I borrowed against the business.”

“Bad investments, Dad? You borrowed against your business? All of it?” Kenya asked.

He nodded. “To expand my stake in a real estate investment firm. I had to. It was more than I expected. I figured it would appreciate so I bought thirty-five percent more.”

“Wait, I still can't understand why you invested in a real estate firm. You were a Realtor for thirty years. You know how risky that can be even in a good economy. Never mind. None of that matters now. You invested in real estate, so what happened to the money?” Kenya asked.

“Because of the economy, the value of the fund kept going down. Eventually everything just fell apart. It was a gamble and I lost.”

“Oh, my heavens,” Lynette finally whispered.

“Wait, what's a real estate investment fund?” Kenya asked.

“Truthfully, I don't really know,” James said.

“James, you gambled our lottery winnings without knowing what you were doing?”

“No, no, of course not. The fund advisors were supposed to invest the money aggressively, but wisely, too. I don't know
what happened. It was supposed to shield us from regulations and taxes. They used speculative strategies and tax loopholes.”

“This doesn't make any sense,” Kenya said.

“Is any of this even legal?” Lynette asked.

“Yes, yes, of course,” he stammered hesitantly.

“Dad, there must be some way to straighten this out, get the money back. We can sue the investment firm.”

James shook his head slowly. “Everything just tanked. Instead of making profits, we kept losing money. There were fees and capital requirements, then nothing. The fund was almost worthless so I invested the rest in this speculative real estate venture. It was supposed to triple our investment.”

“You mean your real estate business, right?” Lynette asked.

“What about the business?” Kenya asked. “That's still okay, right?”

“No,” James said slowly, “the venture capital fund owns it now.”

“Who owns it?” Kenya asked.

“Honey, don't worry. The house is ours, nobody can take that away. The trip is paid for in full. We have everything we need. It's just the other things.” He looked at Kenya. “I'm so sorry, baby, your dreams—”

“Dad, don't worry about it. I have money from before, plus I still have some of the money you gave me last year. It's all in a money market account, I can get it out. You and Mom can take it.”

“No, Kenya,” Lynette said, “we'll make do. We always have. I still have other investments. We'll be okay,” Lynette said.

“We'll need to pay attorney fees,” Kenya said.

“Attorney fees? What attorney fees?” James asked.

“We'll need an attorney to sue the guy who manages the fund and get everything back,” Kenya said.

“No, we can't,” James said emphatically.

“Of course we can. But the question is where to start. I guess we have to dig out all the transaction records and investment paperwork first. Your lawyers are gonna want to see it as soon as possible. We also need to contact your accountant. He's gonna have to dig through what actually happened,” Kenya said in a determined voice.

“No, we can't.”

“Dad, we need to get on this as soon as possible. The longer we wait the worse it might be.”