I Told You to Be Careful (Gold Streaks Book 2)
Read I Told You to Be Careful (Gold Streaks Book 2) Online
Authors: Sylvie Nathan
Sylvie
Nathan
I Told You To Be Careful
Copyright ©
2015 Sylvie Nathan
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
I Told You To Be Careful
The sun rises slowly in Africa. Slow to rise and quick setting. And there are few places as beautiful to watch it, thinks Lisa, than through the kitchen window at her new home. At her and Sue's home. She is sitting there now, with morning breaking, slowly, on the hills opposite.
Sue is sitting beside her, idly buttering some toast, as they drink coffee and watch the sun rise slowly over the hills opposite. It is a golden orb in a pale, aching blue sky, spreading gold light around across the clouds. The kitchen is pale and drowsy with it at this time: a warm, golden space.
“Lisa?”
“Mmm?”
Both are reluctant to break the silence. It is so peaceful. After a while, Sue starts again. She looks down at a magazine open on the breakfast table. Pushes it across to where Lisa sits beside her.
“Look at this. Not a bad profile, I think.” She is smiling, a warm, self-satisfied smile.
Lisa grins; bends over the magazine. The two of them read together; red hair leaning against blonde as they bend together to share the single text.
In front of them, Sue smiles from one page of the Mining Times. The rest of the page is taken up with a glowing overview of the company, Gold Ridge Mines, of which Sue is CEO; detailing the new vein of ore and the ambitious plans – her ambitious plans, mostly – for benefiting from it. The next page has photographs of the mine; an interview with the head of engineering, and more photographs.
Lisa smiles.
“They do you justice, I think.”
Sue grimaces. “Entirely true and outrageously flattering as well.”
“That's what I said.”
They both laugh. Lisa kisses Sue's cheek; a small gesture, nonetheless filled with affection. They are silent for a moment.
“Lisa?”
“Mm?”
“Are you free this evening?”
“You know I am.”
“Tomorrow evening?”
“Yes...”
“Well, how would you like to come with me to the celebratory gala? We are going to start drilling the new vein tomorrow, and there's always a special event to celebrate.” Sue smiles. She continues,
“There's good wine, and dancing...the company can be a bit tiresome at these things – all the heads of all the affiliate companies, people we do business with, bankers and accountants and engineers and people from the press. But I have to go, so I'd love to have you there.”
Lisa smiles, thinking about it.
“All those notable people? And your lawyer? What will they think; and whatever will I wear?”
“My lawyer, indeed!” Sue snorts in warm derision. “You know no-one thinks you're just my lawyer anymore.” She pauses, then continues, “And I am sure you have lots of suitable things. If not, we can go shopping.”
Lisa grins, wryly. “We could. What are you wearing?”
Sue pauses, thinking. “I thought maybe my white dress? Something simple that will offset some gold jewellery. I have to look like a mine-magnate, after all.” She grins.
Lisa grins back. A less stereotypical mine-magnate she has never seen. Sue is petite, slight and slim, with ice-blue eyes and pale hair. But on her, the classic beauty is formidable; granting her an icy authority that cuts more deeply than diamonds.
“You always do.” She kisses Sue on one cheek. Sue wraps an arm around her neck; draws her closer for a kiss.
They sit silent for a few moments; enjoying each other's presence.
“You won't work long?” Sue asks it.
Lisa grins. “I don't intend to. We'll have to see. With that lot, I never know.”
“Well, I hope to see you earlier. I have a slow day planned for today.”
Lisa smiles. “Slow, by your definition.”
“Yes.” Sue says defensively. “Only three meetings and a report to finalize; a phone conference with our financial adviser and a chat with our brand-management people. A slow day.”
Lisa shakes her head, smiling. Picks up the breakfast things and takes them to the sink. Comes back to the table.
“I'll see you after your slow day, then.” She leans in and kisses Sue's hair. Sue grips her hand.
“Do that.”
“I will.”
Ten minutes later, the sun has risen over the hills and the kitchen is empty; its occupants off to begin the new day at work.
“Ms Marsden? Telephone for you...”
“...As I was saying, we have a client with a malpractice case...”
“...Don't forget the budget meeting...”
“L? Do you have paperclips?”
Chaos
. Lisa thinks it. Somewhere under her carefully-schooled exterior, she is laughing; a bubble of joy welling up somewhere in the region of her stomach. Ever since her elevation to the position of senior partner last month, Lisa has been the eye of the cheerful storm of chaos that is the Naidu and Marsden legal practice.
“No, Titus. No paperclips here...try the front office?” Lisa grins over the shoulder at the junior lawyer who is sitting in front of her desk, to the tall African man who has appeared in the doorway in full legal regalia. She turns back to the man in front of her.
“...You were asking?” She prompts him, kindly.
Lisa sits and listens to the young lawyer's dilemma. He looks nervous despite the fact that Lisa is not particularly intimidating; or at least not today. Her red-pale hair is tied back in a French braid, wisps of it escaping to fluff around a freckled, open face. She is wearing a maroon blouse and tweed blazer; the mahogany brown offsetting the warm, lively red-brown of her eyes. Still, he seems nervous.
She is about to reply, when the secretary reappears.
“Ms Marsden? Telephone call for you.”
“Sorry, Laura. I didn't hear you the first time.” Lisa grins wryly. “I'll take it in the front office.”
She smiles apologetically at the young lawyer, makes a promise to return as soon as the call finishes.
“Lisa Marsden; from Naidu and Marsden.” Lisa answers the phone. Then, “Yes. Yes of course.”
A few more minutes finalizing details, and then Lisa is back in her office.
She spends a few minutes advising her junior partner on his problem with the case, and when he leaves, she turns to her appointments-book, smiling, to make a note. Then she goes online and starts reading; researching the case as best she can thus far.
“I found some.”
Titus has reappeared in the doorway, a box of paperclips in hand and a broad grin on his face. Since he started with the firm six years ago, Titus and Lisa have been close friends. Now that she is a partner in the firm, he has taken her position as the most senior lawyer, and Lisa enjoys his company and advice now as always.
Lisa smiles. “Well done!” She indicates the seat opposite her desk; inviting him to join her.
“T? What do you make of this?” Lisa asks.
“What, L?”
“Well, I just had a call from Brinkman Car Assembly. They want us to defend them in a suing case.”
Titus smiles “That's great! They'll certainly pay, anyway.” He raises his eyebrows archly.
Lisa nods, smiling. “That's true.”
Brinkman Car Assembly is the local car assembly factory, and one of the firm's newest and most prestigious clients.
“Is there a problem with the case?” Titus asks. He knows Lisa must have a concern, or she wouldn't have mentioned it straight away like this.
“Well...” Lisa begins. “It's fairly straightforward, on paper. One of the luxury cars assembled at the plant recently malfunctioned – a faulty connection to the battery, apparently; which caused the car to stall at the wrong place and time. A woman was killed in the resulting accident. Her husband blames the company for issuing a faulty car, and is suing them.”
Titus looks surprised, eyebrows raised.
“That's a terrible thing, that happened.” He says, sympathetically. “That poor woman. Her poor husband.” He sighs. “Besides the sadness of the whole thing, is there a problem?” He asks concernedly.
“No, not really.” Lisa says, eyebrows raised, “except that the man in question is Raju Patel.”
“Hell.”
“Quite.”
Raju Patel is a local multi-millionaire businessman, known for his high-profile lifestyle, his support of the arts, and his slightly suspect dealings. No-one has ever accused him of anything underhanded, but there has always been a sense that he may have connections to a drug cartel or some other illegal system as a secondary means of income. Standing against him if he wants to sue someone is daunting.
“Anything else you know about the case?”
“Nothing much yet.” Lisa replies. “It seems pretty straightforward to me. There's no evidence that the factory sold the car that way...if there was a problem with assembly, I would imagine more than one car would have malfunctioned the same way.”
“That sounds reasonable” Titus nods.
The two of them sit in silence for a few moments, thinking through the details of the case, then
“I suppose I'd better get back to my office.” Titus sighs, and stands; knees creaking. “Got a case on hand at the moment, but not as fancy as yours.” He smiles.
“I'll let you get back to it, then.” Lisa grins. “Thanks, T; for listening.”
“Of course.”
After he has left, Lisa sits for a moment, thinking. Cars being mis-assembled certainly happens, but it usually happens to more than one car. Businessmen who stand to inherit from their relatives and somehow foreshorten their lives also happen. But so does sabotage, accident...dozens of other things. Until she has more information, and has met with the client and discussed their side of the case, she cannot make up her mind either way.
Lisa sighs, turns back to her computer, to look for newspaper articles, reports, archives...anything she can find about the case. She will have to schedule a meeting with the client soon. But first, she has a commitment to attend, tomorrow evening. The celebratory gala for the new vein being dug. She smiles.