Клео Коул - Latte Trouble

I found the two men seated in the circle of overstuffed chairs situated next to the now-cold fireplace. Matt was grinning and chatting amicably. If there were any hard feelings about the overboard incident on the Fortune Wednesday night, I couldn’t see them. When I arrived, Tad rose to greet me while Matt took the tray and set it on the table. I poured and served.

“I brought Matt some good news,” said Tad, offering a self-satisfied smile. “Someone read his prospectus and expressed his wishes to invest in the kiosk idea. Apparently this individual is a real fan of the Village Blend.”

“I really appreciate this, Tad,” said Matt.

“And my way of apologizing for the…incident with Eduardo Lebreaux,” Tad replied.

“Forget it,” said Matt with a wave of his hand.

“No, really. I didn’t want you to think I was some kind of idiot,” Tad insisted. “Lebreaux’s prospectus came in two months ago and I figured one’s tea and the other is coffee so why not include them both…”.

Tad shrugged sheepishly. “Then without my knowledge, Lebreaux withdrew his old prospectus and submitted an ‘updated’ one last week to my people.”

“Oh, really?” said Matt.

“The first deal involved importing exclusive teas from an eastern producer. The second prospectus was quite similar to yours, except the retail ideas were for marketing tea instead of coffee….”

Matt shot me his didn’t I tell you look. Tad noticed the exchange. “Anyway,” he continued. “It’s obvious that you and Lebreaux have a history.”

“I’ll say,” muttered Matt.

“I should have caught the bait and switch, but between the TB Investments seminar and Fashion Week, Rena and I have been running around like crazy.”

I spied an opening and jumped in. “How is Rena?” I asked, reluctant to confront Tad without Rena present. I was hoping she might still show.

Tad glanced at his watch—a Rolex, I noted—and a shadow of concern crossed his round face. “Actually, Rena should have been here by now. I called her early this morning from my office—several times—and left messages on her answering machine and cell. She should have picked up or called back by now, but some last minute crisis with Lottie probably has her hopping. I told her to meet us here if she possibly could.”

There was a pause. Tad added cream to his coffee, tasted his cup, and gushed about the quality of the brew. He tried to appear normal, but I could tell there was an undercurrent of concern—no doubt he was wondering why we asked him here. I pressed for time, but ten more minutes passed without a sign of Rena. Tad shifted impatiently and glanced at his watch once again. I decided to pounce before he bolted.

“Matt tells me you were selling stock in a number of fashion lines,” I began.

Tad nodded. “There was an offering for a very promising start-up. Designer Wylbur Watley left Martyrdom to start his own label, Sentinel Hill. I think we got some nibbles for him.”

“I heard you were selling Lottie Harmon shares as well…a lot of shares, in fact.”

An uncomfortable silence descended. Tad looked at Matt, who shifted in his chair, suddenly fascinated by tiny dust motes floating in the late morning sunlight pouring through the windows.

Tad set his cup aside, met my gaze. “What are you trying to say, Ms. Cosi?”

I dropped all pretense. “I know for a fact that you and Rena are closer than you let on—”

“My relationship with Rena Garcia is none of your concern—”

“Except when you and she form some kind of clandestine partnership to sell Lottie Harmon’s business out from under her.”

Tad’s face flushed red, and I thought he was going to jump down my throat. Instead he slammed his fist on the table. I winced, and Matt sat up straight.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tad cried. “Lottie Harmon made Rena and me both very wealthy—and she treats Rena like the daughter she never had. We would never do anything to hurt Lottie.”

“Then why sell the stock?”

“I’m doing it to protect Lottie, Ms. Cosi,” Tad replied. He stood up to go, but I stood right in front of him. I wasn’t letting him get away without some answers.

“I have it on good authority that you and Rena are in desperate straits. That you need money in a hurry, and have to sell your shares in Lottie Harmon to raise it. Tell me. Are you bankrupt, or is it blackmail?”

I expected more anger and outrage. Instead Tad’s shoulders sagged. He slowly sat back down.

“Why do you want to know, Ms. Cosi? Why do you care?”

“Because my employee…my friend …is sitting in jail right now, because someone tried to murder Lottie Harmon and used my coffeehouse to do it.”

Tad’s eyes were suddenly haunted. “You mean the poisoning?”

I nodded. “With Lottie out of the way, you and Rena would become the sole owners of her label.”

Tad shocked me by laughing. “You are so wrong,” he said, shaking his head. “So off the mark…”

“Enlighten me then.”

Tad took a swallow of air, then a gulp of coffee. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet, guarded.

“Over a year ago, when the label was just getting launched, Lottie somehow got Fen on board. It was a real coup—a miracle, really. Fen dropped his long-standing relationship with Verona accessories to take Lottie on. Anyway, Rena had been working for months for practically no salary. Her savings were gone and she was borrowing from friends. There was no guarantee that Lottie’s label was going to catch on, and she was starting to get very nervous about her financial security. She was feeling desperate…

Tad gulped more coffee, black this time. “Anyway, Fen sent over patterns for some of his fall line, so Lottie could design the accessories….” He glanced at his watch, looked in the direction of the empty staircase. “Someone approached Rena pretending to be an international knockoff merchandiser. He offered her seventy-five thousand dollars for copies of Fen’s designs. Like I said, she was desperate, owed money. So Rena took the deal. She copied the designs and traded them for cash.” Tad snorted. “Turned out to be a set-up. Fen himself sent an employee to make the deal—”

“Wait a second,” I interrupted. “Let me get this straight. Fen stole his own designs?”

Tad nodded grimly. “The man Fen had sent to Rena made the exchange in some hotel room on Eighth Avenue. A private surveillance firm taped the whole thing. Then, about three weeks ago—around the time Rena and I became engaged—Fen approached Rena and told her the truth. He threatened to go to the police and expose the crime to Lottie. I think Rena was more concerned about what Lottie would think than any jail time she was facing. The two women had become close.”

“What were Fen’s demands?” I asked. “All blackmailers have demands…”.

“Rena’s shares in Lottie Harmon…and mine. After Fall Fashion Week is over and Lottie is finished with her major presentation, he wants us to trump up a reason to want out of the business, and tell Lottie that we’re selling him all of our shares. Fen wants to buy our shares and control Lottie’s business.”

“I don’t understand,” said Matt, who’d been pretty quiet up to now. “Why try to sell the Lottie Harmon shares at the seminar after Fen threatened you and demanded you sell the stock to him?”

“Rena and I don’t want to hurt Lottie,” explained Tad. “And we don’t want any trouble from Fen. We’re hoping if we divest fast, before the end of the week, Fen will have no hold on us. The shares he wanted will be dispersed among other investors, and Lottie will be safe—she’ll be able to retain the largest percentage of stock—and control of her business.” Tad met my stare. “Like I said before, Ms. Cosi. I was just trying to protect Lottie. I—”