CHAPTER 3
1062 Words
Mr. Austin's POV
I ushered my daughter, Roshni, out of my office and sat down in my chair trying to figure out how I was going to solve this issue in four weeks.
I opened a drawer and brought out the last brochure we had released before the spiral down to nothing started. We had just signed three new authors, paid their advances, and even ticked the clause for the possibility of a three book deal, which depended on the profitability of their first. We had done the adverts, taken everything into consideration, had we not? The new books were a tad different from our usual Romantic enchantments. This time, we had decided to delve into the paranormal world, and so, had signed so young writers without much academic muscle, because one of my editors mentioned that Young Adult paranormal romance should be from, well, people who were young. I had no idea if she had been right or wrong.
So had our new genre of books brought about our downfall?
I put down the brochure and made for my coat and hat. There was someone I needed to see. And he was , well, my last resort.
**********
I pulled into the parking space of La Americana and delved into the restaurant. At this time of the day, the place was half its normal number. A couple of people looked in my direction, recognized my face even, but glumly decided not to acknowledge me. And to be frank, I liked the silent treatment.
"Mr. Austin," greeted Jonas at the other end of a table. "Welcome, sir. Donald go take his hat and coat."
A young man who looked too Swedish to be American walked up to me and politely collected my appurtenances.
"Thank you, Jonas. Is Frank around?"
"Yes, sir. He is at the back. I'll walk you through."
"Thank you, good sir."
Frank was sitting in his favorite chair and smoking his pipe when we entered. "Mr. Austin is here to see you, sir," Jonas announced, and Frank turned his head.
"Ah, I was wondering when you would come to say howdy again, Austy," he said, his voice parched from too much smoke.
I nodded at Jonas who readily excused us and walked to sit opposite my friend. "Your voice gets more coarse by the day and you still cannot stop smoking that?"
Frank shrugged his shoulders. He was a short man of five feet two inches and the reason why I visited him was that he was the only one who didn't condemn me.
"What do I offer you?" Frank asked in a hospitable manner.
"I'll sip Chai tea."
"Great, as long as it doesn't give you neck pain," Frank said, and rang the bell beside his chair. Someone came in and he gave the order. "So, howdy?"
"They came today."
"When you mention they, I presume you mean your investors, yes?"
I didn't bother telling him that his presumption was totally correct. We had talked about such a possibility before. I just said, "And they need their money."
The Chai tea came. I had so much love for this type of tea originated in India. It is made with black tea and a variety of spices, including cardamom, ginger, and cloves. There is a robust flavor to it and is often served with milk and sugar. Some people like to call it 'chai tea latte' when served with milk.
I poured some milk into the tea and ignored the sugar.
"All four of them?" Frank asked.
I nodded. "And just like you said, they weren't concerned about the company itself. They have written it off. It is their money they want."
"And what did you tell them, Austin?"
"That I would give them back their money in a month," I said.
He wasn't fazed with the window I had set. In fact, nothing fazed Frankie anymore.
"And how do you plan on giving it back to them in a month?"
"Thats what I have come to talk to you about, Frankie. I am considering paying a visit to Dean."
Frankie's bushy eyebrows came together in a curious frown. "Dean? Which one of the Deans?"
"Desmond Dean. I figure I can strike a bargain with him and see how he could help me bring back my company."
"I see," Frank said, and puffed on his pipe.
"What now, Frank?"
"Well, Desmond Dean is a well respected man with deep pockets, having made most of his money from outside here. Oil, pharmaceuticals, and eateries. But he is young and might want to play the smart one. I would prefer Barrack, Dean's half brother, but he is not that rich and may not be able to help you."
"They threatened me, Frankie. Either I give them their money or they have me arrested."
"Has it come to that?"
I sipped my Chai tea again. "I am afraid it has."
Frankie shook his head and clucked his tongue like a mother hen. "Haven't you considered selling off some of your assets to pay them?"
"My assets, you say?"
"Yes, your house, for example. It is worth a lot. You could get a smaller one. And uhm.."
I cut him off before he could go on. "I just need your foresight on this matter regarding Desmond Dean. Your foresight has helped me much, Frankie."
"But it couldn't stop you from losing your company."
"That wasn't your fault, Frankie. I never told you about my plans. I never even told Roshni. Just the board. That is entirely my fault, so do not feel bad about it."
Again, he shrugged. "Desmond Dean will help you, Austy. But his demands might be too burdensome for you."
"Are you talking about age, Frankie?" I asked, and flexed my arms. "That shouldn't be a problem."
"That is not the kind of burden I was referring to, Austy," Frankie corrected. "But finish your tea. When do you plan on meeting him?"
"This evening," I said.
"Wait. I'll put a word through for you. See if he is around and has time. You were once a billionaire, Austy. At least, be treated as one. No need to go barking at his gate like a dog."
I just smiled. I finished my Chai tea and rose. "Thank you, Frankie."
But he simply shook his head. "Nothing to be thankful for yet."
- Writer
