“Get some rest,” Lee Chang continued. “Everything will be fine.”
Lee Chang stepped outside, pulled out a cigarette with shaking hands, and lit up. Chow Ying followed his boss through the door and pulled out his own almond-flavored brand of domestic Chinese smokes.
The child of a U.S. Senator! Lee Chang couldn’t believe his luck. What an opportunity! To hell with blackmail for money. He had much bigger plans. The girl was his ticket off the island.
Chapter 5
Jake flipped the business card through his fingers with the skill of a street magician. He batted the pros and cons of what he was considering back and forth in his head like a tennis ball going over the net at Wimbledon. He shut his eyes and opened them a minute later, no wiser. He looked up and said a prayer both to God and his mother, asking for guidance. He waited another minute, still looking upward, but received no heavenly intervention. No parting clouds. No rays of light. He picked up his phone and called the number.
No answer.
He left a message on his father’s voicemail and hung up.
The phone was still in Jake’s hand when it rang. For the first time in two decades, his father had returned his call. He looked up at the ceiling, and for a moment he thought he felt his mother’s presence. Miracles do happen.
“Hi, Dad.”
His father mustered up his friendliest greeting and before the conversation could stall, Jake laid his request on the table. “Say, any chance of getting a job at your company for the summer?”
Peter Winthrop managed not to choke on the request. Without his normal, careful consideration, he answered. “Sure. How does tomorrow suit you?” ***
The weekly Monday morning call was not a highlight for either Lee Chang or his father, the great C.F. Chang. Their conversation steered clear of friendly banter, family chitchat, and gossip, and when Lee did venture off topic, his father quickly brought him back to business. What was the weekly output of the facility per employee? What orders were next to be filled? How many units were shipped? Lee Chang had learned to answer the questions with precision. He knew the numbers of the business under his control. It was the one thing he absolutely had to know. He didn’t plan on being banished to Saipan forever. He once believed that knowing his corner of the family business was his best chance off the island. But no longer. Wei Ling and her not-so-immaculate conception were going to expedite his return to favorable-son status.
C.F. Chang was the patriarch of the family and one of the most well-connected men in China. He prided himself on knowing everything that could affect his many businesses. He paid good money to smart people at home and abroad to keep him informed, and had no tolerance for surprises. With a billion dollars a year generated in manufacturing, defense, communications, and utilities, he couldn’t afford to be asleep behind the wheel. So between his own ambition, and that of those he hired, he never slept.
The head of the family empire was not interested in listening to his son’s big announcement, and he grew impatient as Lee explained the visit from the U.S. Senator weeks ago. C.F. Chang already knew about the senator’s trip to the island, and he didn’t want to have the facts rehashed through his son’s warped perception. Confident his son couldn’t possibly tell him anything he wasn’t already aware of, C.F. Chang nearly missed the single biggest surprise of his adult life.
Lee Chang held his breath as his father digested the news. A thousand miles away, C.F. Chang stared into the picture of his own father hanging on the far wall of his office in Beijing. Then he spoke. “Keep this quiet and keep that girl healthy.”
Lee Chang smiled. For once, he and his father were on the same page. ***
Jake took his turn going through the revolving door and walked across the lobby to the information desk. Peter Winthrop kept his one hundred fifty employees busy on the top two floors of International Plaza at the corner of Thirteenth and K streets. It was as nice an office as there was in Washington, sharing two blocks in either direction with a dozen of the most prestigious law firms in the country.
The wood-paneled elevators with their brass fixtures opened on the fourteenth floor and Jake stepped into his father’s world for the first time. An attractive blonde sat at the reception desk, under a formidable “Winthrop Enterprises” sign. She smiled eagerly as Jake approached.
“I’m Jake Patrick. I am here for my first day of work,” he said without pride or pretension.
“Yes, Mr. Patrick. Your father is expecting you,” the blue-eyed babe answered with a level of professionalism foreign to Jake. Another blonde receptionist was summoned and the son of the president and CEO followed his new, and equally attractive, host down the wide hall. The office was immaculate. No cheap carpeting, no cramped cubicles. Every seat had a view and everything was in its place. It looked like a place where serious people did real work.
Jake was handed off again, this time to an older receptionist who rose from her chair to greet Jake with yet another ear-to-ear smile. Dark blonde hair fell to her shoulders, a model’s face with green eyes rested on a toned body. Sure, she was older, but Jake had little doubt that she had been a hottie in her day.
“Hi Jake, I’m Marilyn Ford, your father’s personal assistant.”
“Nice to meet you, Marilyn.”
“Your father had to step out of the office on urgent business. He should be back in the afternoon. Until then, I am here to help you get settled. Your office is this way.”
“I don’t need an office. A desk would be fine.”
“Well, I guess you are getting both—an office with a desk,” Marilyn answered without room for negotiation. “You’ll like it. It has a nice view of McPherson Square.”
Marilyn opened the desk drawer and grabbed a key ring that would make any janitor weak-kneed with envy. A bell attached to the key chain rang with every move she made, as if the sound of the jingling keys alone wasn’t loud enough to wake the dead.
“Quite a set of keys,” Jake said innocently.
“Somebody has to keep duplicates around here,” Marilyn answered. “People lose them and I’m the key master.”
Marilyn backtracked halfway through the office floor that Jake had just covered, took a left and headed toward an isolated corner. The description of the office she gave Jake as they walked didn’t do the room justice. Jake stood at the doorway and watched Marilyn switch on the lights and open the blinds. Sun burst into the room transforming an already brilliant office into a masterpiece.
“Good God,” Jake said.
“Does this mean you like it?”
“It’ll do,” he answered poker-faced. It was far nicer than anything he imagined. The wooden bookcases, handmade desk, and deep leather chairs were overkill for Jake’s ambition. He was looking for a part-time job, not an extended stay in the oval office.
“I thought you might find it acceptable,” Marilyn answered.
“Are you sure this is okay? There must be a few people in the company eyeing this office.”
“Of course there are. But until you leave, they are going to continue eyeing it from a distance.”
Marilyn reached for the desk and picked up a piece of neatly typed paper. “Here are some phone numbers for you. The security desk on the first floor, the main reception desk, and some contact names in our legal, finance, and international departments. Numbers change around here from time to time, so you may get an updated list a couple of times a year. Feel free to move around, meet people, and ask questions. I also have your new email address, user ID, and password. The head of our IT team got here early this morning just for you. I will take you around to formally introduce you to everyone after you get settled in.”
Jake’s small briefcase from Staples wouldn’t take long to unpack. The office was large enough to live in, and the leather binder that held his schedule wouldn’t fill a tenth of the desk space.
