Guess What She Did by Ann Rearden
Turning off the freeway that followed the Pacific coast, Georgina drove east for several miles, eventually crossing a scrubby patch of chaparral. At the edge of the chaparral, she entered a forest of eucalyptus trees. Inside the forest the road became narrower and began to wind. Private driveways, many with imposing gates, lined the road; from time to time Georgina glimpsed estate-sized homes behind the gates. Breaks in the trees revealed that the road traversed the top of a mesa. A flat plain stretched out for miles below. Across the plain, in the distance, she saw several low, dark mountains, including one that resembled a pyramid.
The drivers ahead of her on the road were in no hurry; uncharacteristically, Georgina accepted the slower pace. A horse trail ran alongside the road. Several riders took their horses at a walk on the trail, and one pair of riders held forth at a trot, posting elegantly in their saddles. At one point Georgina had to bring her vehicle to a complete stop for a group of riders that crossed the road at a stately pace. Further along, the trees on the right side of the road gave way to reveal a golf course that was laid out invitingly in a broad, green valley. The hills surrounding the golf course were dotted with large homes. Eventually the road led to a picturesque village comprised mainly of low buildings in the Spanish Revival style; most of the buildings had thick, whitewashed walls and red tile roofs.
Her destination, the Inn at Rancho Secreto, sat atop a small knoll near the center of the village. Its wide, closely clipped lawn rolled gently down to the main street. Off to one side of the hotel a lushly foliated grape arbor shielded an inviting pool area. An expansive, terracotta-tiled patio at the front of the hotel hosted several smartly dressed people at tables shaded by market-style umbrellas.
A bellman rushed out to greet Georgina as she pulled her car up to the entrance. He ushered her through the lobby, exquisitely furnished with antiques from the Spanish era, and showed her to the discreetly understated reception area. An elegantly dressed young man sitting behind a writing desk invited Georgina to sit down to fill out the registration form, and offered her a choice of beverages.
She had just finished checking in when a tall, thin, middle-aged man in a dark grey suit approached her. He introduced himself as Philip Wahl, from Rios Capital. “Mark Webber gave a good description of you, Ms. Graham,” Wahl said, handing her his business card. “But he did not do you justice.”
“I'm pleased to meet you,” Georgina said, surprised that she had not been forewarned. She took Wahl’s card and reached into her purse to retrieve her own.
“Mr. Rios sent me over,” Wahl explained. “He wants to see you as soon as possible. He asked me to offer you a ride.”
“Of course, the sooner the better,” Georgina said. “Just give me a few minutes to put my things in my room.”
Wahl glanced briefly at Georgina’s card before putting it inside his suit jacket. “I’ll wait for you here,” he said. Georgina nodded to the bellman that she was ready. Wahl smiled pleasantly and took a seat in the lobby.
As soon as she was in her room Georgina called Mark, to find out what he knew about Wahl. “He’s not a decision-maker,” Mark told her. “Rios calls the shots, and Wahl does the legwork. By the way, do you like the Inn?”
“Why yes, it’s lovely,” Georgina said.
“I stay there myself when I see Rios. I told travel to put you up there. Thought you would like it.”
“Thanks for the upgrade,” Georgina said, momentarily taken aback. “I’ll be in touch again, right after I meet with Rios.”
When Georgina reappeared in the lobby Wahl jumped to his feet. He escorted her outside, to where a granite-grey Maserati coupe awaited them. “Have you been to Rancho Secreto before?” he asked, as Georgina settled into the car’s sumptuous cabin. She indicated that it was her first visit, with one hand involuntarily stroking the car’s butter-soft seat leather. Wahl revved the engine. “Let me give you a little tour on our way,” he said, as he drove out onto the street. At the first turn, he pointed out the post office, an unprepossessing structure at the back of a grocery store parking lot. “The local people go there every day to pick up their mail,” he told her.
“There’s no mail delivery?” Georgina asked.
“People here like to keep their home addresses private,” Wahl explained. “Running into your neighbors at the post office every day is part of the Rancho culture. It's how everyone keeps up on the local gossip.”
“I can’t imagine that Mr. Rios has time to pick up his own mail.”
Wahl laughed. “No, no,” he said. “He has someone who does that for him.” He paused for a moment for effect. "That person would be me," he said proudly. Georgina took this peculiar piece of information under advisement. Was Wahl gratified to run Rios' errands? As Wahl took a circuitous route through the village he drew Georgina’s attention to other points of interest; he described the community with a pride that Georgina found oddly touching. Wahl, Georgina thought, did not seem to be the cold-blooded warrior type that she had expected, based on the reputation of Rios Capital. They drove out of the village and turned up a steep hill. Georgina gripped the edge of her seat as the car took the road's sharp curves. “We’ll drive by the house that I’m building,” Wahl told her. Then he added, “Some days I wish I could just forget it.”
“I’ve heard that building a home can be a trial,” Georgina offered sympathetically.
“There it is,” Wahl said, pointing to a clearing in the eucalyptus forest where a large house was under construction. “My wife convinced me that the time to build is during a downturn. I put her in charge of watching over the construction. My hands are too full at Rios Capital to do it.”
Sensing an opportunity to steer the conversation towards business, Georgina asked Wahl how Rios Capital first came to be interested in ZIFIX. Wahl gave a curt and unrevealing account of how they had become aware of the financially troubled startup. Georgina understood that she would be given no more information about the deal than what Wahl wanted to provide her.
The car pulled up to an immense pair of wrought iron gates. The words Casa Feliz were spelled out in iron letters at the top of the gates. Georgina knew just enough Spanish to understand that Rios had named his estate “Happy House.” How much more refined the name sounded in Spanish than in English, Georgina thought. The gates swung open to reveal a long, serpentine driveway flanked by dozens of sycamore trees, and, at the end of the driveway, a magnificent, hacienda-style house surrounded by stone archways. The rambling structure was largely one story, with a two-story section in the middle that overlooked the flagstone-laid front courtyard. A tiled portico held up by massive stone pillars marked the entry.
Wahl stopped the car under the portico; Georgina got out and waited while he parked. As she looked around the entryway, she saw that the portico connected on both sides to a veranda that encircled the house. The veranda’s roof was composed of exposed beams that held up the clay barrel tile roof. Through openings in the archways on the exterior wall of the veranda, she could see an enormous rose garden beyond the courtyard. There were two sets of entry doors, a decorative wrought iron pair left open and, behind them, a closed pair of carved mahogany doors with hefty Spanish-style iron hinges. Daunted by the scale of her surroundings, Georgina felt her confidence begin to falter. Recognizing an old pattern and determined not to let it rule her, Georgina drew in a deep breath and then slowly, and completely, exhaled.
Alerted by the noise of a car’s engine, Rios got up from his desk and went to his office window. He watched Wahl park the Maserati in the courtyard below. Wahl’s Maserati irked Rios. He believed that the manner in which one displayed one’s wealth was a test of one's shrewdness, and Wahl had failed the test when he bought such an ostentatious vehicle. The house that Wahl was building nearby was another grating annoyance. Every time Rios drove past the construction site, he was repulsed by the obvious extravagance. Although he believed that he and Wahl shared the same objective, namely, ego gratification and the intimidation of others,
Rios preferred a more nuanced approach to showing off his superior net worth.
He went downstairs and encountered Georgina and Wahl just as Lupe was ushering them inside; Lupe disappeared back into her office without saying a word. Rios was immediately taken with the willowy young woman who now graced his foyer. With her fine bone structure, peach-toned skin and lustrous strawberry-blond hair, Georgina Graham was very appealing indeed. In stiletto heels she towered several inches over him, but to Rios this only added to the interest. He reminded himself that she worked for Mark and was therefore off limits. “Delighted to meet you, Ms. Graham,” he said cordially. “I hope you had a pleasant journey on your way to be with us.”
“I did, thank you,” Georgina replied. “Mr. Wahl was kind enough to tell me a little about Rancho Secreto on the way over.”
“Did he now?” Rios said. “The Ranch is a little piece of heaven where I have had the privilege of living for many years. Now, before we get down to business, I hope you will do me the honor of letting me show you around my property.” Rios took Georgina by the arm and led her across the foyer towards the entrance. Uninvited, Wahl followed them a short step behind. Without being summoned Lupe reappeared to open the heavy front door.
For the first stop on the tour Rios showed Georgina the rose garden, where he held forth about the lineage of its most rare, heritage varieties. He beamed when she complimented him on the beauty of one of his most prized specimens, a striking, ruffled yellow rose tinged with green at the edges. Producing a pair of small cutting shears from inside his suit jacket, Rios ceremoniously cut a single, perfect yellow blossom and gallantly offered it to her. Then he took her to see the Olympic-sized swimming pool where, he told her, he did laps daily, to the tennis court where he played singles with a teaching professional twice a week, to the putting green that he largely ignored, and to the horse barn to see his new colts. For the finale Rios led Georgina to the recently constructed, full-sized racetrack located just behind the barn.
Two men were standing at the rail of the track, watching a young rider exercise a horse at a leisurely pace. Rios introduced the men as his trainer, Jake Rousseau, and his barn manager, Jose Ramirez. “Together these two gentlemen are going to take my racing stable to a whole new level,” he told Georgina. “We’re going to put horses into major races all over the country.”
Jose looked at Rios with an amused expression. “Major races?” he chuckled. “That’s going to cost you more money than you can possibly imagine.”
Rios appeared taken aback. “You sound like Philip here,” he complained, acknowledging Wahl's presence for the first time. “He’s always telling me that I’m spending too much money on horses.”
“Well, sir,” Wahl spoke up hastily, “what I’ve said is, the racing operation needs to be run more like a business, you know, for tax purposes.”
Rios turned to Wahl and looked him fully in the eye. “Perhaps we should talk about your new house,” he said, “if we’re going to talk about spending too much money.”
The approach of the horse and rider interrupted the conversation. “Hey, kiddo,” Jake called out to the rider, who smiled at him in return. “This is my daughter, Sonia,” he said to Georgina, as Sonia dismounted and led the horse to the rail. “She helps out here by exercising horses.”
“Glad to meet you, Sonia,” Georgina said. “I have to say, I’m impressed that you can ride a racehorse. How long have you been riding?”
“I was practically born in the saddle,” Sonia explained, stroking the horse’s neck as she spoke. “I ride the horses for their easy workouts. When they need to be run harder, there are other riders who do it.”
Rios leaned across the rail to give the horse several firm pats on the flank. Then he turned back to the group. “Thank you all,” he said. “I must take our visitor to the house to do some business.” As he turned to leave, he added with a wink, “She’s going to find a way for me to keep all of you employed.”
Back in his office, Rios led off the meeting. He told Georgina that Wahl had already negotiated the outlines of the deal with Dr. Carmichael, who was ready to sell them the startup outright. All that remained was settling on the price. What he needed from her, he said, was verification of the market valuation of ZIFIX and a plan for financing the sale through her bank. Georgina explained what she had already done regarding the startup’s valuation. The major outstanding issue, she said, was the value of the patent; she expected to be able to give him a figure on its value by tomorrow. She then proposed a financing model that Mark had used in similar deals recently. Rios nodded from time to time as she spoke. When she was finished, he asked what she thought their next move should be.
“I’ll meet with Dr. Carmichael tomorrow to verify the hard assets of the company," she said. "I understand they are relatively minor, just a few rooms of laboratory equipment. As soon as we get the estimate on the patent's market value, then we can decide on what the offer should be.”
“As far as timing goes,” Rios said. “I want to fast track this, because there’s not enough money to be made here to justify prolonged negotiations. The deal must close in the next three days, or we don’t do it at all. Do we have an understanding on the time frame?” When Georgina concurred, Rios thanked her effusively for her presentation. He asked Wahl to take her back to the Inn.
Once Georgina and Wahl had departed Rios called Lupe on the intercom. He asked her to bring him the yogurt and fruit that he took each afternoon at that time, as specified by his longevity program. While he waited for her, he leaned back in his chair. Mark was scheduled to call him shortly. He would let Mark know that he was already very pleased with the performance of his young associate. But Rios was not at all pleased with the conduct of one Detective Mori. Sam's baffling failure to return his calls was putting him and Rios Capital in jeopardy. Her behavior towards him was completely unacceptable, Rios decided, and he would need to persuade her to change it.
Chapter Five
The drivers ahead of her on the road were in no hurry; uncharacteristically, Georgina accepted the slower pace. A horse trail ran alongside the road. Several riders took their horses at a walk on the trail, and one pair of riders held forth at a trot, posting elegantly in their saddles. At one point Georgina had to bring her vehicle to a complete stop for a group of riders that crossed the road at a stately pace. Further along, the trees on the right side of the road gave way to reveal a golf course that was laid out invitingly in a broad, green valley. The hills surrounding the golf course were dotted with large homes. Eventually the road led to a picturesque village comprised mainly of low buildings in the Spanish Revival style; most of the buildings had thick, whitewashed walls and red tile roofs.
Her destination, the Inn at Rancho Secreto, sat atop a small knoll near the center of the village. Its wide, closely clipped lawn rolled gently down to the main street. Off to one side of the hotel a lushly foliated grape arbor shielded an inviting pool area. An expansive, terracotta-tiled patio at the front of the hotel hosted several smartly dressed people at tables shaded by market-style umbrellas.
A bellman rushed out to greet Georgina as she pulled her car up to the entrance. He ushered her through the lobby, exquisitely furnished with antiques from the Spanish era, and showed her to the discreetly understated reception area. An elegantly dressed young man sitting behind a writing desk invited Georgina to sit down to fill out the registration form, and offered her a choice of beverages.
She had just finished checking in when a tall, thin, middle-aged man in a dark grey suit approached her. He introduced himself as Philip Wahl, from Rios Capital. “Mark Webber gave a good description of you, Ms. Graham,” Wahl said, handing her his business card. “But he did not do you justice.”
“I'm pleased to meet you,” Georgina said, surprised that she had not been forewarned. She took Wahl’s card and reached into her purse to retrieve her own.
“Mr. Rios sent me over,” Wahl explained. “He wants to see you as soon as possible. He asked me to offer you a ride.”
“Of course, the sooner the better,” Georgina said. “Just give me a few minutes to put my things in my room.”
Wahl glanced briefly at Georgina’s card before putting it inside his suit jacket. “I’ll wait for you here,” he said. Georgina nodded to the bellman that she was ready. Wahl smiled pleasantly and took a seat in the lobby.
As soon as she was in her room Georgina called Mark, to find out what he knew about Wahl. “He’s not a decision-maker,” Mark told her. “Rios calls the shots, and Wahl does the legwork. By the way, do you like the Inn?”
“Why yes, it’s lovely,” Georgina said.
“I stay there myself when I see Rios. I told travel to put you up there. Thought you would like it.”
“Thanks for the upgrade,” Georgina said, momentarily taken aback. “I’ll be in touch again, right after I meet with Rios.”
When Georgina reappeared in the lobby Wahl jumped to his feet. He escorted her outside, to where a granite-grey Maserati coupe awaited them. “Have you been to Rancho Secreto before?” he asked, as Georgina settled into the car’s sumptuous cabin. She indicated that it was her first visit, with one hand involuntarily stroking the car’s butter-soft seat leather. Wahl revved the engine. “Let me give you a little tour on our way,” he said, as he drove out onto the street. At the first turn, he pointed out the post office, an unprepossessing structure at the back of a grocery store parking lot. “The local people go there every day to pick up their mail,” he told her.
“There’s no mail delivery?” Georgina asked.
“People here like to keep their home addresses private,” Wahl explained. “Running into your neighbors at the post office every day is part of the Rancho culture. It's how everyone keeps up on the local gossip.”
“I can’t imagine that Mr. Rios has time to pick up his own mail.”
Wahl laughed. “No, no,” he said. “He has someone who does that for him.” He paused for a moment for effect. "That person would be me," he said proudly. Georgina took this peculiar piece of information under advisement. Was Wahl gratified to run Rios' errands? As Wahl took a circuitous route through the village he drew Georgina’s attention to other points of interest; he described the community with a pride that Georgina found oddly touching. Wahl, Georgina thought, did not seem to be the cold-blooded warrior type that she had expected, based on the reputation of Rios Capital. They drove out of the village and turned up a steep hill. Georgina gripped the edge of her seat as the car took the road's sharp curves. “We’ll drive by the house that I’m building,” Wahl told her. Then he added, “Some days I wish I could just forget it.”
“I’ve heard that building a home can be a trial,” Georgina offered sympathetically.
“There it is,” Wahl said, pointing to a clearing in the eucalyptus forest where a large house was under construction. “My wife convinced me that the time to build is during a downturn. I put her in charge of watching over the construction. My hands are too full at Rios Capital to do it.”
Sensing an opportunity to steer the conversation towards business, Georgina asked Wahl how Rios Capital first came to be interested in ZIFIX. Wahl gave a curt and unrevealing account of how they had become aware of the financially troubled startup. Georgina understood that she would be given no more information about the deal than what Wahl wanted to provide her.
The car pulled up to an immense pair of wrought iron gates. The words Casa Feliz were spelled out in iron letters at the top of the gates. Georgina knew just enough Spanish to understand that Rios had named his estate “Happy House.” How much more refined the name sounded in Spanish than in English, Georgina thought. The gates swung open to reveal a long, serpentine driveway flanked by dozens of sycamore trees, and, at the end of the driveway, a magnificent, hacienda-style house surrounded by stone archways. The rambling structure was largely one story, with a two-story section in the middle that overlooked the flagstone-laid front courtyard. A tiled portico held up by massive stone pillars marked the entry.
Wahl stopped the car under the portico; Georgina got out and waited while he parked. As she looked around the entryway, she saw that the portico connected on both sides to a veranda that encircled the house. The veranda’s roof was composed of exposed beams that held up the clay barrel tile roof. Through openings in the archways on the exterior wall of the veranda, she could see an enormous rose garden beyond the courtyard. There were two sets of entry doors, a decorative wrought iron pair left open and, behind them, a closed pair of carved mahogany doors with hefty Spanish-style iron hinges. Daunted by the scale of her surroundings, Georgina felt her confidence begin to falter. Recognizing an old pattern and determined not to let it rule her, Georgina drew in a deep breath and then slowly, and completely, exhaled.
Alerted by the noise of a car’s engine, Rios got up from his desk and went to his office window. He watched Wahl park the Maserati in the courtyard below. Wahl’s Maserati irked Rios. He believed that the manner in which one displayed one’s wealth was a test of one's shrewdness, and Wahl had failed the test when he bought such an ostentatious vehicle. The house that Wahl was building nearby was another grating annoyance. Every time Rios drove past the construction site, he was repulsed by the obvious extravagance. Although he believed that he and Wahl shared the same objective, namely, ego gratification and the intimidation of others,
He went downstairs and encountered Georgina and Wahl just as Lupe was ushering them inside; Lupe disappeared back into her office without saying a word. Rios was immediately taken with the willowy young woman who now graced his foyer. With her fine bone structure, peach-toned skin and lustrous strawberry-blond hair, Georgina Graham was very appealing indeed. In stiletto heels she towered several inches over him, but to Rios this only added to the interest. He reminded himself that she worked for Mark and was therefore off limits. “Delighted to meet you, Ms. Graham,” he said cordially. “I hope you had a pleasant journey on your way to be with us.”
“I did, thank you,” Georgina replied. “Mr. Wahl was kind enough to tell me a little about Rancho Secreto on the way over.”
“Did he now?” Rios said. “The Ranch is a little piece of heaven where I have had the privilege of living for many years. Now, before we get down to business, I hope you will do me the honor of letting me show you around my property.” Rios took Georgina by the arm and led her across the foyer towards the entrance. Uninvited, Wahl followed them a short step behind. Without being summoned Lupe reappeared to open the heavy front door.
For the first stop on the tour Rios showed Georgina the rose garden, where he held forth about the lineage of its most rare, heritage varieties. He beamed when she complimented him on the beauty of one of his most prized specimens, a striking, ruffled yellow rose tinged with green at the edges. Producing a pair of small cutting shears from inside his suit jacket, Rios ceremoniously cut a single, perfect yellow blossom and gallantly offered it to her. Then he took her to see the Olympic-sized swimming pool where, he told her, he did laps daily, to the tennis court where he played singles with a teaching professional twice a week, to the putting green that he largely ignored, and to the horse barn to see his new colts. For the finale Rios led Georgina to the recently constructed, full-sized racetrack located just behind the barn.
Two men were standing at the rail of the track, watching a young rider exercise a horse at a leisurely pace. Rios introduced the men as his trainer, Jake Rousseau, and his barn manager, Jose Ramirez. “Together these two gentlemen are going to take my racing stable to a whole new level,” he told Georgina. “We’re going to put horses into major races all over the country.”
Jose looked at Rios with an amused expression. “Major races?” he chuckled. “That’s going to cost you more money than you can possibly imagine.”
Rios appeared taken aback. “You sound like Philip here,” he complained, acknowledging Wahl's presence for the first time. “He’s always telling me that I’m spending too much money on horses.”
“Well, sir,” Wahl spoke up hastily, “what I’ve said is, the racing operation needs to be run more like a business, you know, for tax purposes.”
Rios turned to Wahl and looked him fully in the eye. “Perhaps we should talk about your new house,” he said, “if we’re going to talk about spending too much money.”
The approach of the horse and rider interrupted the conversation. “Hey, kiddo,” Jake called out to the rider, who smiled at him in return. “This is my daughter, Sonia,” he said to Georgina, as Sonia dismounted and led the horse to the rail. “She helps out here by exercising horses.”
“Glad to meet you, Sonia,” Georgina said. “I have to say, I’m impressed that you can ride a racehorse. How long have you been riding?”
“I was practically born in the saddle,” Sonia explained, stroking the horse’s neck as she spoke. “I ride the horses for their easy workouts. When they need to be run harder, there are other riders who do it.”
Rios leaned across the rail to give the horse several firm pats on the flank. Then he turned back to the group. “Thank you all,” he said. “I must take our visitor to the house to do some business.” As he turned to leave, he added with a wink, “She’s going to find a way for me to keep all of you employed.”
Back in his office, Rios led off the meeting. He told Georgina that Wahl had already negotiated the outlines of the deal with Dr. Carmichael, who was ready to sell them the startup outright. All that remained was settling on the price. What he needed from her, he said, was verification of the market valuation of ZIFIX and a plan for financing the sale through her bank. Georgina explained what she had already done regarding the startup’s valuation. The major outstanding issue, she said, was the value of the patent; she expected to be able to give him a figure on its value by tomorrow. She then proposed a financing model that Mark had used in similar deals recently. Rios nodded from time to time as she spoke. When she was finished, he asked what she thought their next move should be.
“I’ll meet with Dr. Carmichael tomorrow to verify the hard assets of the company," she said. "I understand they are relatively minor, just a few rooms of laboratory equipment. As soon as we get the estimate on the patent's market value, then we can decide on what the offer should be.”
“As far as timing goes,” Rios said. “I want to fast track this, because there’s not enough money to be made here to justify prolonged negotiations. The deal must close in the next three days, or we don’t do it at all. Do we have an understanding on the time frame?” When Georgina concurred, Rios thanked her effusively for her presentation. He asked Wahl to take her back to the Inn.
Once Georgina and Wahl had departed Rios called Lupe on the intercom. He asked her to bring him the yogurt and fruit that he took each afternoon at that time, as specified by his longevity program. While he waited for her, he leaned back in his chair. Mark was scheduled to call him shortly. He would let Mark know that he was already very pleased with the performance of his young associate. But Rios was not at all pleased with the conduct of one Detective Mori. Sam's baffling failure to return his calls was putting him and Rios Capital in jeopardy. Her behavior towards him was completely unacceptable, Rios decided, and he would need to persuade her to change it.
Chapter Five