Harrison Towers, Memoirs of a Mogul (Glass Towers Trilogy) (13 page)

BOOK: Harrison Towers, Memoirs of a Mogul (Glass Towers Trilogy)
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I look at what she is referring to and agree that it is unique but not to my taste. I don’t think I can bear to tell her that I would probably demo this room and start from scratch. It feels desperate to me. The man who built this may have been trying to lure his prey rather than already having caught it.

 

As we head for the stairs, Olivia points out a servant’s stairway through another door and two other bathrooms. It is an extravagant home for whoever originally built this. At almost a century old, this must have been quite the showplace back then.

 

Back on the main level we quickly check out the other rooms we missed on the first pass. I declined from viewing the third floor servant’s quarters and the basement. We head through the kitchen back out to the mudroom then back outside. She looks at the door and then gives me a dirty look. “Ok Mr. Towers, how do you plan to fix this?”

 

“I don’t …just leave it. I’m buying it anyway. Let’s get back to town and get the papers drawn up.”

 

“Oooh, have I told you lately that you are my most favorite client?”

 

“No you haven’t, you’ve only focused on how sexy I am.” I am laughing outside but cringe inside, how lame that must have sounded.

 

“Oh you are such a charmer. Are you going to start working on this house right away too?”

 

“No. I am going to sit on it and decide what I want to do with it. I had thought I would make it my personal residence but then it seems to have a microclimate so it might make a nice place to grow grapes. I guess I will know what to do with it when the time is right.”

 

“Well, let’s get back and put this deal together.”

 

 

 

Chapter Eighteen

 

Another year has gone by since my Adelaide passed. To honor her, we had an
other open house at her bungalow and raised more funds to keep her charity thriving. I decide that it is time to make this a bigger foundation and hire a master fundraiser Penelope Swanson. She is a local socialite in Portland, who is well connected and is successful in fundraising. She does not come at a small price however. I have to dip into my own pocket to pay her fees. She is the daughter of a rich lumber and shipping magnate. Needless to say, despite the dwindling lumber industry in Oregon, this family is not affected in the least. Penelope is always at the center of all the movers and shakers events. After our initial meeting, I knew this was just the woman for the job. When I call her to tell her of my decision, she is beyond ecstatic.

 

“Miss Swanson, its Harrison Towers. Did I catch you at a good time?”

 

“Oh yes, I have all the time for you.” She coos into the phone.

 

“Well, I am just calling to tell you about my decision about the foundation event chair. I have decided to bring you on as the head of the foundation events. I think you are just the person to get that rolling here in Oregon. As you know, my sister-in-law handles the foundation in Montreal so you can work closely with her to get things started. Oh, also I am willing to pay you the fee we discussed plus travel and other expenses. How does that sound?”

 

“Perfect! When do we get started?”

 

“Well, I’ll have my assistant send over the contract that spells out the terms of agreement and I’ll have Hannah contact you to set up plans for you to meet. I will not be all that involved with the details, I just want final approval where large amounts of money are being spent. Otherwise, I will leave everything else to you and Hannah.”

 

“Well, this is great. I am honored you would select me and let me assure you, I am not taking this project on for my salary, I really believe in what you are trying to accomplish. It must be really hard for you to carry on after such a loss.”

 

I take a deep jagged breath and then feel the burning urge to get off the phone quickly, the tears have long since been dried but the pain is persistent. “Thank you Penelope. Now, I will pass your number on to Hannah. Expect a call from her in the next day or so. In the meantime, we will send you the contracts to go over. Feel free to email me with any questions you might have…I am glad to have you on board!”

 

“Thanks again Harrison I am excited to get started!”

 

Once I’m finally off the phone I open my email to see my inbox loaded with messages from the architect, contractors, my attorney and one from Marion. I almost delete the message but something tells me not to. I have avoided her to the best of my ability for the past two years. I rarely travel out to the winery and when I am in the office like today, I instruct the staff to screen my calls for her.  I only travel to Montreal once a month now and never divulge when that will be.

 

I open up the email and instead of reading it word for word I scan it. She is asking for me to meet her. She says I can’t avoid her forever. I beg to differ. I delete the email.

 

She has not given up on us, after all this time and all that has happened, she still is convinced we will be together. It’s unbalanced. In fact, in my opinion, she is a stalker. When Adelaide was alive, she would turn up at places we were eating dinner. She made unwanted advances at me and tried to corner me at the winery on many occasions. One time while Addy and I were dating we were heading to Hawaii for a vacation. Once we get there we discover who else should be staying at the Grand Wailea, but Marion! She claimed she had a male travel companion with her but during the entire two weeks, we never laid eyes on him. She was alone every time we saw her at the resort. I kicked myself the entire trip for not renting a private house.

 

I also wondered how it was that she always seems to know my moves. She clearly has an inside track on my personal life. I asked around the Towers Enterprises offices and nobody seemed to know anything. She didn’t seem to succeed with as much in Oregon. I suspect she was paying someone in Montreal to keep her in the loop. Obviously she didn’t have anyone here yet.

 

When Marion showed up at the funeral, I had her escorted away. After which, I received a scolding phone call from Mr. Devereaux himself. He said I acted in poor taste and I had better watch the accusations I had been throwing around town that I thought Marion was behind her death. I told him in no uncertain terms that I would someday pin it on her and when I did, he would be the one who would be sorry.

 

When my own father got wind of the conversation, he had his secretary forge a letter of apology from me and sent over with a bottle of scotch. Mr. Devereaux returned the gesture with a cease and desist letter. He blames me for Marion being a mess…he thinks that I ruined her. If he only knew what a disaster she really is. He would have gotten her help a long time before my engagement to her. I decided then and there I would never give up trying to uncover the truth. I would continue to pay the private investigator team to keep looking. I made it clear to them that I didn’t care how long it takes or how much it costs, that someday, I want Marion to be held accountable for her ruining my life. She took my love away from me. For that, she must pay. They assure me that they will be on the lookout for new evidence or information and that they would keep it on the down low. I don’t want to alert the Devereauxs.

 

That was also when I decided that despite the fact I can’t stand the sight of her, I would have to keep her working for the two Towers companies. I figure that at some point, she will slip up and I will be able to out her for the murderer that she is. That saying keep your friends close but your enemies closer applies here. The trouble is that I had no idea that by doing so, I was in fact inviting the devil smack dab into the middle of my life. I think of it like giving the devil and inch and she will take my soul. And that, she almost did.

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

It is mid-October in 2009, I am almost thirty-nine and until now, I managed to keep space between myself and Marion. My father and a few other key personnel are flying to Paris for a four-day wine making symposium. The subject is sparkling wine, specifically champagne, something I am particularly interested in going into production in the next season. My father, despite everything, insists that Marion come along on this trip. He feels that it would be good for her to do sourcing at the trade show that is running concurrently and it wouldn’t hurt to make more contacts. I couldn’t disagree more.

 

“I don’t know what you are thinking,
father
! I cannot stand to be in the same city as her much less on the same airplane or hotel. This is not appropriate given the circumstances. Not appropriate at all!” I feel veins popping out of my neck as I am hollering.

 

He simply gives me a blank look and then turns back to his desk. “I’ll ask you to lower your voice. I am sorry son, I do understand your views, however, it is important that she go. You don’t have to sit next to her on the plane and the hotel is big enough I am sure you won’t have adjoining rooms. And…”

 

“Sure sure, that’s hardly the point and you know it. She had Adelaide killed and I can’t do a damned thing about it, yet. So in the meantime, to keep the peace, I have been working very hard to stay away and focus on my work. It was my idea to go to this in the first place but it certainly never included
her
!”

 

He is looking up at me from his chair void of emotion. How could he be such a cold ass?

 

“I know you believe Marion is out to get you and that she had something to do with Adelaide’s death. But the evidence suggests otherwise. She did not cause Adelaide’s death. You are grieving and I appreciate that…it’s been two years now and you need to put that behind you and live your life. Stop living in the past…”

 

“Damn it father! You don’t seem to understand, SOMEBODY wanted to cause her harm. SOMEBODY poisoned her and the baby, and SOMEBODY slashed her tires and threatened her and there was not a fucking thing I could do about it. Not with all the money we have was I able to protect my family. How am I supposed to move on from that? Just turn a blind eye like you would do? Pretend she never existed. Or maybe I should be indulging myself in every woman that comes my way so as to ease the pain.”

 

That got him. He is now standing with his chair wheels spinning behind him. He is a man of my same stature so we are staring at each other eye-to-eye.

 

In a low and controlled voice my father speaks after a long silence between us. “You are completely out of line speaking to me like that. I will not tolerate your disrespect. I will forgive you because I know you are hurting and in your convoluted mind, you are convinced of those atrocities are of Marion’s doing.” I begin to interrupt but he holds up his hand. “I am not asking you erase the memory of Adelaide or the baby, but I am suggesting you find some help and figure out how to move forward with your life. And I don’t mean professionally. You are forty this year and it is high time you produce me an heir.”

 

“I was trying to start a family when that bitch interfered. By the way, I have been seeing a therapist for over a year now. The only thing I have clarity on, is that I hate Marion Devereaux and that I never want to be in love again. It hurts too much. I can’t do it.”

 

“Then at the very least find you someone with no strings attached. But just know that Towers Enterprises needs and heir someday to carry on the legacy. Do you really think I want your uncle Frederick or his idiot sons to take over? It’s bad enough they have to be allowed to sit on the board and collect a paycheck every month.”

 

I laugh, I don’t think my father has ever been that candid with me. He is usually so stoic and all business. My mother is the warm fun one. She is helping Hannah with the foundation now and is in her element.

 

“As for Marion. I suggest you put on your executive hat and keep things strictly professional with her. But maybe you can find yourself some young little Parisian thing to help you blow off some of your steam.”

 

My mouth flies open. It takes a lot to shock me, but coming from my father, I am simply floored. “Are you seriously telling to get laid?”

 

“Yes, that’s exactly what I am telling you.” He gives me the patented Towers smirk and then rolls his chair back to his desk and takes a seat. “Now if you will excuse me, I have work to finish before we fly out. Since I did charter a plane for the trip, I suggest you keep in mind this trip is crucial to expansion for the wineries. I don’t care if she is in the same airspace as you. Its only nine hours and maybe you can get some sleep, I’ve never seen you so high strung. Oh, and take my advice, you need to find a pressure release somehow.”

 

“Fine, I’ll go workout. Know this though, I will not be expected to interact with her. I wonder how Derek is feeling about this, did you tell him he was travelling with his ex-wife?”

 

He looks surprised, “Why no, it slipped my mind. Be a good son and tell him, wont you?”

 

“Father you are an insufferable old goat. I wonder if you planned this all on purpose.”

 

He smirks again, “Now I must get back to my work. See you in the morning.”

 

I start to leave, “And son, I expect you on your best behavior.
Bon gré mal gré.

 

As I shut the door I bark, “Well, I don’t like it…not one bit.”

 

I mumble a few expletives under my breath as I pass by Helen at her station outside my father’s door. She gives me the most pathetic look of sympathy. This is exactly why I despise coming up here. I am much better off in Portland. Nobody knows me there, and no one knows my plight.

 

The next morning we fly out on the chartered jet to Paris. The city of love, or in my case, the city of ill repute…if it were up to my father that is. I take a seat toward the back of the plane and spread out the plans for Glass Towers Project. I decided to name the three towers after the rivers as Addy suggested. I plan to dedicate one of the towers to her and the other to the baby. The towers represent the three of us. Forever a family even if we are not together in the flesh. I feel eyes boring into the side of my head and I know it’s that damned bitch. I don’t look up but instead, I continue to pour over the plans and make notes. After a few hours, I finally grow wearing of staring at lines and numbers so I roll up the plans and put into the canister. As I stow the tube under my seat I sit back up and find that Marion has slinked over and has taken the seat next to me.

 

Under my breath I hiss, “Just what do you think you are doing?”

 

She actually has the nerve to look surprised, “What do you mean, what am I doing? I came over to say hello. I haven’t seen you in an eternity.”

 

“Did it ever occur to you that I don’t want to see
you
?”

 

“Yeah about that, why are you avoiding me? What have I done to deserve your wrath? I have been nothing but friendly with you and you continue to treat me poorly. My therapist says  it because you have unresolved issues towards me. Is that true Harry? Do you still have issues or feelings toward me?”

 

The damned bitch. She still knows exactly what buttons to push to get my blood boiling. I take a deep breath and bite at my lip to keep from exploding. I am afraid of what I will do if I allow myself to unleash. I take another breath and then calmly respond, “You know as well as I do that I do not have feelings of the sort for you. In fact, I’ve never had feelings other than contempt and pity for you. Now if you will excuse me, I don’t find anything that we need to discuss and I have more work to do.”

 

I turn back to my pad of notes and start to jot down more when I turn and see her still sitting next to me. The look in her eyes say it all. She is not going to back down. I am still in for a fight with her.

 

“You know the old Harry knew how to push my buttons but the new and improved soft Harry only knows how to nudge.” Then she leans over and whispers in my ear, “Has other things gone soft or limp too?” She then moves away glancing down to my groin and then makes her way back up to her seat before I could respond.

 

I grit my teeth so hard I feel the muscle in my jaw flinching. I’m going to take her down if it is the last thing I do. Besides, I am not soft, in any way or shape.
Bitch
! Out of the corner of my eye I see Derek looking at me. No doubt he too blames me for his marriage to Marion failing. Again, not my doing. She is fixated on me and I honestly don’t understand why. I thought after she married into the Towers clan she would be satisfied. Her daddy takes care of everything for her so she has means. It’s a good thing she is involved in her family’s business though as both of her brothers are spoiled and useless morons. I seriously doubt either one has spent a single day working. Instead they womanize and enjoy every luxury that their vast fortune affords. Not us Towers, we are a hardworking lot…to a fault. Apparently, when we love, we love hard too.

 

Nevermind all that, I just want to get through the next four days and then return to Oregon. I hated leaving while I have two gigantic projects under way. I really did not need to go during this crucial time, but when we originally planned to attend this symposium trip almost a year ago, I had not broken ground yet. I should have cancelled a while back but I am curious about making champagne or bubbly wine so this is going to be useful unless Marion makes a nuisance of herself. I am so deep in thought I barely notice Garrin Leone, a friend of mine who is also an employee is now seated next to me.

 

“Harrison, how have things been for you?” He gives me a no-nonsense look. I know damned well what he is getting at.

 

I keep my voice down, “Honestly…things are better. I have my moments… frequently but I keep busy.”

 

“Do you still think
she
was behind it?” He is almost whispering.

 

“Damn right!” I blurt out. I don’t care who hears me.

 

“Well, keep me posted and let me know if you want me to do some looking into things for you. I gotta say…the evidence just does not point to her. I think she is simply your jealous ex who can’t let you go. If things had been a little different, you may have ended up with her.”

 

I shake my head no but I think deep down I know the evidence is not clear-cut. I just feel it in my gut. But my therapist suggests that my convictions are fueled by my anger at her for things that happened between us when we were together.

 

“So Garrin, why did you come on this trip? Production and sourcing, it’s not really your department.”

 

“Your father didn’t want you to know, but he felt under the circumstances, I should come to run a buffer of sorts…between you and the rest of the group. Besides, I’m your right hand man, aren’t I? Maybe we can have some fun here?”

 

“So…are you saying you came to babysit me? Or is it to make sure I behave?”

 

“When you put it that way, it does seem I am your keeper. Well, let’s make the best of it. It can’t hurt my being here and I always enjoy a visit to Paris. Who doesn’t, I usually have a great time with the local women at least.”

 

I scoff, “When don’t you have an easy time getting women? Your tall, dark, and handsome routine seems to work no matter where you are. Especially in the United States, women there seem to not get enough of your look.”

 

He laughs out loud, “And who do you think you are fooling, I watch women practically swoon over you Towers. It’s no wonder a certain someone is so obsessed…she would always have competition.”  

 

I nod, smile, and then cross my arms over my chest shutting my eyes. Maybe I can get a couple hours sleep before I have to deal with that woman again. I predict I am in for more of her antics in the next four days. I try to visualize my sweet Adelaide’s face before I nod off so thoughts of Marion aren’t my last before I doze. I struggle with conjuring up her sweet face. God how I miss her.

BOOK: Harrison Towers, Memoirs of a Mogul (Glass Towers Trilogy)
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