The older man slid into a chair facing Andy. Deep concern was etched in the man’s face. It was obvious that he was trying to process some thoughts, and carefully frame his next words.
“I have an extensive knowledge of your family’s holdings, and have spent much of my life working directly with your mother. I have a great deal of leeway in dealing with her accounts, not to mention your father’s. They trust…, trusted me, and I think I know what they would have me do.”
At that moment there was a light rap on the door, a pause, and the door opened, the receptionist appeared, with a chrome serving cart. She wheeled the cart to the coffee table. Without looking at either man, she carefully arranged its contents on the table. Two dessert dishes of very fine china, trimmed with gold, the company emblem in the center, and matching cups and saucers. There was a small tray, filled with pastries, linen napkins, and a carafe of coffee, plus cream, sugar, and an etched crystal water pitcher filled with ice, water, and sliced lemons.
Andy felt like he had entered another world. Their Capital was in ruins not forty miles from this place, more than three-quarters of the country was in enemy hands. For all anyone knew here this could all meet with the same fate as the Capital. Yet, these people seemed to be disconnected from it. It was like having Disney World in the middle of a ghetto of terrible poverty, and those within the theme park are pretending the world outside the gates didn’t exist and wouldn’t encroach on the fun within.
“Should I pour or would you like anything else, Sir?” asked the receptionist, still not making eye contact.
“No…. . thank you,” responded Mr. Lange.
She left the room, took the cart with her, and quietly closed the door. As she did so, Chadwick offered Andy the refreshments. It had been a long time since he had enjoyed such fare. He struggled to remember the manners his mother had instilled in him since his earliest years. The delicate pastries melted in his mouth, subtle flavors mingled with light, sweet crusts. The coffee was rich, hot, and full flavored.
Andy looked over at Mr. Lange, wondering how long he had been fully wrapped-up in these tasteful delights, and ignoring his host. Mr. Lange just sat smiling like a doting grandfather who was watching his favorite grandchild unwrap a carefully chosen present. His host apparently had only taken a couple of sips of his coffee, and eaten less than half his Danish.
“There’s something I need to take care of, Andy. I could be gone awhile, please make yourself comfortable. There’s my private washroom through that door to the right of my desk, if you need it.” With that, Chadwick rose from his chair, and touched Andy firmly on the shoulder, as he left the office.
Andy sat and enjoyed another pastry and some more coffee. After a bit, he too rose, and moved to the windows, taking in the view of the Port City, and the port itself. He tried not to look in the direction of the smoke; the thoughts that came to mind were too painful.
Finally, he needed to use the washroom. Entering the door Chadwick had pointed out, even this room bespoke of Mr. Lange’s position within the company. Dark, real wood paneling of some kind graced the walls. Travertine tile on the floor contrasted with the paneling. The commode, sink, and private shower were of a neutral marble. The room was large than some bedrooms Andy had seen and even boasted its own cedar-lined closet, with several changes of clothing waiting the owner.
Exiting the washroom, Andy wandered the office and took time to examine the various pieces of artwork skillfully placed about the room. Indirect lighting highlighted some of the work. It was like a visit to a private art gallery. Eventually, he ended up back at the panoramic view from the windows. It was in these quiet moments that he felt an emptiness which went deep within his being.
He was at the windows another ten or fifteen minutes or so, when Mr. Lange reentered the room with his administrative assistant following close behind. The assistant was a trim, middle-aged woman. Her hair was closely cropped with wisps of light grey in otherwise jet-black hair. She was fashionably dressed, and walked with an air of self-assurance. In her left hand was a large leather bound folder of some sort.
As they neared Andy, Mr. Lange motioned towards his assistant.”This is Ms. Detwiler. She is to be your main contact with the firm. If there’s a question she can’t answer, she’ll defer to me. I will still be here for you Andy, but Ms. Detwiler should be able to address the majority of your day-to-day concerns.”
As Ms. Detwiler smiled, and nodded towards Andy, Chadwick directed them to the conference table, and asked them to be seated. As she sat, Ms. Detwiler slid the folder to her boss. He carefully reviewed the contents, and then pivoted the open folder so Andy could see.
“You have a trust, and other assets, Andy. In addition, once the disposition of your parents and sisters can be established, you stand to inherit a sizeable fortune….”
Disposition of your parents and sisters, Andy thought, that sounds like lawyer for when we can confirm them as dead. He was reeling at the idea, but didn’t interrupt his host.
The documents within the folder showed that Mr. Lange had set up a monthly stipend for Andy and his friends to live on. In addition, he had arranged for a furnished apartment, with two bedrooms and two baths, to be rented out of funds from the trust. Chadwick explained that the apartment probably wasn’t up to the standards Andy had known, but that the surge of refugees coming into the Port City had driven housing costs sky high. There was also a large bank draft with which the three young men could purchase an initial stock of food and clothing for each of them.
Finally, Andy was instructed that if the Enemy were to attack the Port City, he and his friends were to drop what they were doing, and head to this building. The same warning system would be used here, as had been used for the Capital. Warning sirens would wail as soon as the Port City’s defenses came under attack. There would be choppers landing on the roof to help with evacuations.
CHAPTER 2
Chadwick felt sheer exhilaration as he rode the private corporate elevator back up to his office. Yes, it was very late even for him to be working, but there were details to handle for Andy’s accounts that he wanted to personally handle.
Almost no one knew that he had once loved Andy’s mother; Jacquelyn Nordstrom-Whitman. , better known as Jackie Whitman. Jackie was married to Doctor Carl Whitman, a famous Oncologist. Doctor Whitman was a top ranking Oncologist, not just here in his home country, but in this region of the world. Before the war, he traveled the world, speaking at medical conferences and providing hope to cancer victims around the globe.
Jackie normally dispensed with using her family name, Nordstrom, unless she needed it to advance some cause which had her interest. The Nordstrom name went back to the founding of this country. The family wealth easily eclipsed even the most powerful in the land. There had been male heirs to the family name until Jackie’s mother ended up being an only child, as Jackie was. They inherited the Nordstrom name, and increased its wealth.
Landing the ‘Nordstrom Account’, as his firm called it, had put Chadwick on the fast track to becoming a Vice President at KML. Other major accounts followed just because of the attraction of being associated with the Nordstrom family. Jackie might have been a stay-at-home mom but she was a shrewd, effective business woman. She handled not only the Nordstrom inheritance, but her husband’s accounts too.
Chadwick had met Jackie while attending university at Harvard. He was from England, and she was from here. Jackie was intelligent, talented, and vivacious. As she walked by, every male head would turn. The females tried to pretend Jackie was only an apparition.
He had followed her back to this country; giving up his own family back in England, and so much more. Despite Chadwick’s willingness to surrender all he valued for Jackie, her mother would have none of it. He would be allowed to handle their money, but he was never to have Jackie.
Chadwick’s thoughts were interrupted when the elevator door opened to his floor. It opened to a small, but well-appointed vestibule. Only the highest corporate officers used this private elevator. There was a parallel