“They’re training a new person,” Zach answered quickly. “And as you know very well, I like to support training young staff.”

“Excellent,” Davenport grunted his approval. “Like to see that.”

“And the third person? That’s a waste of money,” Leech added. He’d always been a penny pincher. And that would probably never change, even though he could call a large fortune his own.

Zach motioned to the elevator. “Shall we?” With an inviting gesture he ushered the three toward it and pressed the button so the doors opened instantly. As they filed in, Zach looked over his shoulder to address his assistant. “And Jessica, can you please make a reservation at Clementine’s for tonight?”

“For how many?”

“Two.”

“Would seven thirty work?”

“Perfect, thanks.” He entered the elevator and typed his access code into the pad next to the door, then pressed the button for the 45th floor. Access to the floor under renovation was restricted.

The elevator started to move.

“So, Zach, you’ve got quite a project there,” Davenport started.

“You know me. I can’t just sit around twiddling my thumbs.” He looked at the older man. “You were just like that when you were younger. I hope you haven’t lost that character trait.” At least he hoped not, because he needed to get Davenport on his side. A shareholder with the kind of voting power Davenport held could either derail or greenlight a project, depending on his likes or dislikes.

“I’m not so sure, Zach. The project seems rather risky.”

“I have to say that a little risk-taking can only be good for the company,” Emily interjected. “And I wouldn’t call Russia all that risky, Max, or are you getting cold feet in your old age?” Even though the words were accompanied by a friendly smile, they were nevertheless meant as a stab.

“Emily, I can only attribute it to your youth that you throw around money so foolishly, because I know you’re smarter than that,” Davenport shot back.

All of a sudden, Zach saw it as clear as day: the two hated each other. He’d never noticed it before, even though both were members of the board and they saw each other at least once a month.

Maybe he’d never noticed it because he’d always been eager to avoid Emily. For purely private reasons: he didn’t want to become husband number four. Because whenever he and Emily met, she hinted that she wouldn’t oppose a bond between them. How long he could continue to pretend he didn’t know what she meant, he didn’t know.

Emily was a beautiful woman. She was in her mid thirties and from a good family with the right connections. He was sure there were plenty of men who would love to have a relationship with Emily, but he wasn’t one of them. He liked his women more down to earth like Rochelle. Damn, could he not even manage fifteen minutes without thinking about her?

“As you said, Max, I recognize a good investment when I see it, and I don’t let a bit of risk scare me away.”

The elevator doors opened and Emily exited first, and Zach and Davenport followed. The doors had already begun to close, when Zach whirled around and quickly stopped them with his hand.

“Are you coming, Chris?”

Leech suddenly looked around himself. “Oh, yeah, sure,” he said rather absentmindedly.

“What do you think, Chris?” Emily now asked.

“About what?” he barked back.

“About Zach’s project of course. Didn’t you read the file he sent out?”

“Of course I read the file. But I can’t imagine that a project with a Russian company would be of interest to us. The risk inherent in such a transaction is large enough without the Mafia.”

“The Mafia?” Zach asked, surprised.

His voice echoed in the bare shell of the 45th floor. Only a few walls had been put in so far; the ceiling still showed the mechanical conduits and wiring, and the floor was still only a concrete slab.

“Yes, have you never heard of the Russian Mafia?”

Now Davenport laughed. “Chris, it sounds like you’re trying to scare us all over nothing as usual.”

“I thought you weren’t keen on the project either,” Leech answered.

“Yeah, but not because of the Mafia. The numbers don’t add up for me.” He looked at Zach. “The profit margin can’t be that big, right? The numbers look just a little too good to be true.”

“Believe me,” Zach assured him. “I’ve had it re-calculated several times to make sure it’s correct. The numbers don’t lie. If we go in on this project, we can expect our profits to increase by fifty-six percent.”