Chapter 8
Meet Laura Dominguez
Where: The Dominguez residence, The United Nations of Europe and Americas, Milwaukee, Wisconsin
When: 1950 hours, Tuesday, October 1, 2041
Currency: UNEA credits
This thing with Edward, I can’t believe that it’s come to this. I have always had my suspicions. I mean, no one gains this amount of wealth without having to have cut a few corners. One would also need serious political connections: getting this far without that is pretty much impossible. I always knew in the back of my mind that there had to be something. Nevertheless, what the media is saying is far from what I could have ever imagined. Although there is a chance, they may be blowing this out of proportion—it is the media after all.
I met Edward in 2018 at a restaurant called ‘The Big Fish’, the best bar and grill in Milwaukee. I was having dinner with a couple of girlfriends one evening, when I noticed a distinguished gentleman walk in. The man was well dressed, poised, and appeared to be familiar with the staff. He was ushered to a table in a corner not too far from where we were sitting. As he sat down, one of the waiters approached his table, blocking the man from my view. The waiter removed the sign that read “Reserved” from the table and spoke to him for a few seconds. After that the waiter walked away, and the gentleman was back in my view. I kept talking to my friends but would glance over at him every now and then. He was reading a copy of the Milwaukee Economist. Eventually, he closed the pages, folded up the newspaper, and placed it on the table. The waiter returned to the table, set down a drink and a tray of hors d’oeuvres. As the waiter walked away, the gentleman and I locked eyes. I quickly turned away and tried not to look in his direction again. I kept talking to my friends, pretending not to be interested in the man. A few moments later, I noticed from the corner of my eye that he had gotten up from his seat and was walking towards our table. He had a bottle of champagne in his right hand, which he presented to me and said, “Good evening, ladies, my name is Edward. Apologies for interrupting.”
I wasn’t sure where the bottle came from, I hadn’t seen any of the waiters bring it to him. He was very polite as he apologized. “Please don’t be offended by this gesture. I felt that if I didn’t approach you in this manner, I probably would never get the opportunity to meet you again. I don’t want to take up any more of your time, so please accept this bottle of champagne for you, and your friends, to go with your meal. It would be an absolute delight if we could have a quick chat later, perhaps after your meal. If not, here is my card. You can use this to get in touch with me some other time, if you’re not in the mood for a chat this evening. Again, I apologize for being so forward. Enjoy your meal.”
I didn’t utter a word, I just smiled. As he walked away, my friends started to whisper and giggle like a bunch of schoolgirls. They kept teasing me. I tried to pretend like it wasn’t a big deal, but no one was buying that—I had just been hit on by a good-looking and eloquent hunk of a man. My friends knew me well enough to know that I wasn’t going to let this one get away. The bottle he handed me was premium Vieux Vignoble, very expensive champagne. The card, which read “Edom Group,” had his name and personal number on it. I had never heard of the company before.
The girls were going to order dessert and would leave immediately after to give me some private time with my new admirer. I was still busy pretending that it wasn’t a big deal, but the girls could see right through me. Before they finished their dessert, a man rushed into the restaurant and handed a cell phone to Edward. He glanced at it, spoke a few words, and then slipped the phone into his lower-left jacket pocket. Edward glanced over to me, gestured with prayer hands, and whispered, “Sorry.” Then he hurried out of the restaurant with the man who came in to ruin what was probably going to be a wonderful evening. It was a good thing I had his business card—I was definitely going to give him a call. I didn’t call him that night though; that would have seemed desperate. His business card had one of those bar codes on it. I scanned it and downloaded his contact details onto my phone and put the card and phone in my purse.
I didn’t call him for two whole weeks, but when I finally called, I couldn’t get hold of him. I had to leave a voice message. Edward called me back an hour after he got my message. For some reason, I got excited and a bit nervous at the same time. I didn’t give anything away during our conversation though. I just played it cool.
“Hello. Hi, is this Laura?”
“Yes, hi, Edward. You seem to be quite a busy man.”
Most people called him Eddie and his friends called him
