I’m in the process of tapping Roscoe Bridges details into my phone, when Charlie rings. “How are things on your side, girlie? Got time to plan our weekend?”
“Just let me send off this brochure for approval, Charlie, then I’ll text you.”
I diddle with my work email, and then get busy messaging my friend back.
Charlie, I haven’t had the guts to tell you this, but I’ve met my boss before! I don’t even know if I’ll have a job by the time the weekend comes around because Gerry says he’s taking me upstairs to meet Roscoe this afternoon, and I know he’ll recognize me! It’s that man from the restaurant I told you about!!! The hot + handsome man with the bad attitude. Pray he has a sense of humor about it! I really need this job to save up for my next collection. One good show is all I need and my student loan will be gone. I’ll let you know how it goes. Tess.
I push send and wait for the tick to show that Charlie got it. Tick. As if I’m in a nightmare, the kind where you can’t escape because it feels as if you’re moving through molasses, I look up at the name I sent the message to, the profile that was open when I began texting.
Roscoe Bridges.
CHAPTER3
ROSCOE
I’ve put my experience at Sergio’s behind me. So, it’s a little perplexing catching myself thinking about Tess all the time. Not Melissa, Tess! Maybe it’s because supermodels are not an unknown entity to me, whereas Tess…
The woman is a mystery. Not because of how she tried to put me in my place, but because she never called or texted me. I was initially able to discipline my memories about the encounter by believing she was jealous of Melissa and wanted to replace her, but with no phone call, I really don’t know what to think. And yet, I am thinking about her. Constantly.
Fortunately, the Japanese delegates are here to take my mind off that scene at the restaurant.
I bow low as the head honcho enters the reception area. “Irasshaimase!” I say with the perfect amount of deference. We both have translators, but I keep my eyes on Mr. Ishida as I say. “Welcome, Mr. Ishida.” I move down the line of four men, greeting each one by name, in order of importance, then move back to my original position, making sure not to turn my back on anyone. We exchange cards, obeying Japanese tradition, and it’s time to get to business.
Seeing the origami dragon folded in red paper at his seat, Mr. Ishida smiles as he sits down, recognizing his Japanese zodiac sign, the lucky color red, and the fact that his seat is facing the feng shui compass point assigned to him at birth. I inwardly pump a fist in the air.Yes!I really want to add a few of Mr. Ishida’s golf club houses and links to our property portfolio.
I raise one finger in the air and Karl goes over to the Japanese translator to confer. The proposed itinerary is run by Mr. Ishida. He nods. My translator speaks slowly because he knows I understand basic Japanese. I know a fair bit of Mandarin too. When my father heard they wanted us to learn French and German at my Swiss boarding school, he had sent a short message back:My son is also to learn Japanese, Mandarin, and Russian. You should upgrade your curriculum!
I already know that Mr. Ishida speaks excellent English, but the translators are here as a formality. It's all about respect.
I begin. “Mr. Ishida. Thank you for visiting us. We are honored by your presence and by your consideration of our proposal. Please feel free to request anything you might need at this point in order for you to enjoy this meeting and be comfortable.” Their trip and stay are all on us, and I’m not sleeping on this. My translator starts saying the words in Japanese, but Mr. Ishida holds up his hand.
“Thank you for your warm greetings, Mr. Roscoe Bridges.” Only my father is called ‘Mr. Bridges’ inside the Bridges Building. Mr. Ishida looks at his underlings who are also seated at the table and speaks in Japanese quickly. I pick up a few words, but they don’t make sense until Mr. Ishida turns to me and says in English, “We have some concerns, however.” Uh-oh, that doesn’t sound good. Why didn’t my people mention this? I keep my face blank, but glance over at Franklin and Karl, who widen their eyes slightly and shake their heads briefly. They are just as surprised as I am about what was just said. I wait for Mr. Ishida to voice his concerns.
“Our problem is this, Mr. Roscoe Bridges. Ishida Holdings is a family-aligned company. We want fathers to bring their sons to play at our courses. We want mothers to feel comfortable when their family is on the course or dining at our restaurants. We have a problem with these revelations about your Mr. Tiger Woods.”
I did not see this coming. That famous car crash where Tiger’s wife had chased him down the road and hit him over the head with a golf club was nearly seven years ago. Why bring this up now? What has Tiger Woods’ nationality got to do with tarnishing my deal? I see Franklin busy on his laptop. He touches my elbow and slides the device in front of me. Stats. When we were conducting research before considering this merger, seventy-three percent of Japanese respondents answered they question the moral code of professional western-based golfers, Mr. Woods in particular, and eighty-one point three percent of respondents lost respect for his endorsements. Respect! Japanese business deal kryptonite!
I look grave. “How might we separate our image from Mr. Woods’, Mr. Ishida? I can assure you that Mr. Woods has no endorsements-”
Mr. Ishida holds up his hand to stop me. “No, Mr. Roscoe Bridges. Our concern is with you.”
One of the men on Mr. Ishida’s side of the table has been busy on his own laptop and slides it in front of his boss. Mr. Ishida starts reading. “We have only bothered going back five years, but that is sufficient to prove my point, Mr. Roscoe Bridges. Seventeen liaisons last year. Thirty-five the year before that, thirty-six if we include the threesome? I believe it is called that? And somehow, you managed to surpass that number three years back by sleeping, dating, and forming brief relationships with a record number of fifty-eight women. I wish I knew how you managed to schedule all of that into your day, Mr. Roscoe Bridges, but I am a happily married man, so I have no use for such information.” Mr. Ishida closes the laptop gently and steeples his fingers in front of his mouth. He sighs, closing his eyes. When he opens them, he states, “Ishida Holdings must maintain its happy family corporate image. It is fortunate for all of us,” Mr. Ishida gestures to the men seated on either side of him, “that we do not find this hard. We are all married and very happy. A marriage makes for a peaceful home environment. It gives us children to follow in our footsteps. Do you not agree?”
I can’t lose this deal. My ‘three strikes and you’re out’ rule doesn’t apply here.
“Mr. Ishida. My fullest apologies about my unacceptable past. However, as businessmen, we cannot deny the attraction of redemption.” My mind is racing as I speak. Unfortunately, the information runs to my mouth faster than I can process. That is the only explanation for what comes out next. “When your customers hear how I am about to settle down to live a happily married life at the end of this year, they will not think to associate the name of Roscoe Bridges with the name of Tiger Woods. If you ever meet my lovely fiancée, you will understand why I would never cheat on her. She is an exceptional young woman, and will adorn the Bridges legacy like a crown jewel.”What the fuck am I doing?And I know I’m laying it on thick, but I have to buy some time, convince Mr. Ishida not to order the car to take him back to the airport.
Mr. Ishida smiles and nods his head, followed by everyone else in his party. “Excellent, Mr. Roscoe Bridges. I am relieved to find my research was redundant. May I suggest we seal the deal this evening over a nice omakase meal at Kura? We have taken the liberty of booking the restaurant for the night.” Relieved my stalling technique worked, I stand up and walk around the table to bow and shake his hand, but before I can begin thanking him, Mr. Ishida holds up his hand again to show he hasn’t finished. “Please, bring the future Mrs. Roscoe Bridges with you to Kura. We will be pleased to make her acquaintance.” Everything in me freezes and I have to physically force myself to go through the motions.
Smile plastered on my face, I wait for the men to leave the conference room before I turn to Franklin and Karl. “Get on the phone to a Casting Agency and find me someone.” The two men don’t move.
“Roscoe. You can’t. This merger is going to take months. No actor is going to take a gig like this.” Franklin’s air of desperation is close to what I’m going to feel if we don’t work something out.
Karl gets practical. “What about an escort agency? I know lots of girls that will be more than happy to play the part.” I shake my head. “No escort agencies, Karl. Too many variables.” I don’t ever play the odds. Doing that would go against everything investment banking stands for; we always play to our strengths and go long. Selling short and betting is for the commodities guys.
We sit together in silence. No ideas come to us. That’s the problem with the three strikes rule: it’s not very conducive when it comes to remaining friends after the final curtain rattles down. Franklin starts tapping on his laptop and Karl and I bring out our phones. The air of desperation in the room is now almost a physical presence that none of us are willing to recognize.
My phone alert goes off. I don’t know the number. I open it anyway.