Cross My Heart Ch. 01

In the first part of this two part story, I introduce Dorina and her husband, Frederic (the narrator) and Angiola a white-knight investor in Frederic's firm.

By the end of this chapter you'd know the characters of the second part.

Enjoy...

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Tuesday, July 2, 2019

"C'mon, let's go, Dorina!" I raised my voice, checking the time on my phone for the third time, waiting at the bottom of the stairs for my wife to come down so we could go. It was not like her to take long getting dressed for a party or a get-together. She was usually very chilled out and pretty unpretentious.

Come to think of it, in fact, it had been my insistence that we put up our best impression that night. We were going to attend a gathering at Angiola's home. Dorina, my wife of seven years, took another fifteen minutes, ignoring my efforts to rush her. Possibly hoping I will calm down in a bit. It was making me even more anxious.

I muttered irritatingly, "What the hell," pacing aimlessly in our drawing room, itching to leave.

Just after seven, I saw Dorina appear from the top of the stairs. And just in a flash, all my worries seemed to have vanished, even if briefly. Her face had the minimum makeup, yet she looked as if an angel was climbing down the stairs to save my soul.

Dorina was the most beautiful creature I had known. The most gorgeous, kind-hearted, soft-spoken, and sweet.

In that momentary flux of a minute, I remembered how lucky I was to have a wife so beautiful.

Looking at my expression, Dorina smiled, something I had been missing, off late. The dimples on her cheek lifted her eyes, and her face lit up.

I largely blamed myself - at least in my heart, I knew I was the reason - even though I had been somewhat outwardly ambiguous about this. The tension between Dorina and me had been growing long before my business struggles, possibly when I was trying to spend unreasonable hours in the office and on travels across Europe. But the real dive in our relationship happened when my ambitions got the better of me and when I put our family business in trouble.

Dorina, "Don't get worked up, Frederic. It is just a party."

I came out of the daze as she reminded me of the party. Stupidly, I forgot to compliment Dorina on how beautiful she was looking. Instead, rushing her, "Dorina, you know how important it is for me. This could well be my only chance for a long while."

Dorina did not respond that she was doing more than what was expected of her. It was no fault of hers that I had wound myself up in the wrangle.

Having realized my mistakes, I focused on saving our business before mending the marriage, taking Dorina for granted.

As I drove out of the four-acre Cologny estate, the auto-sensor main gate opened, and before long, I was on the Quai de Cologny. The GPS told us we would take another fifteen minutes to reach Eaux-Vives, where, I assumed, Angiola lived. The invite did not clearly state if it was indeed her residence, though the address did seem to imply that it was.

It was amusing, actually. I had been seeking a meeting with Angiola for over six weeks and increasingly felt that I was being snubbed intentionally, even though each time I was informed Angiola was either traveling or was busy or engaged in some deal. It had only added to my anxiety.

My mind was preoccupied as I drove silently, saying little. Not quite sure how I would get what I wanted in a public setting. Maybe I would get just an opportunity to set the tone that night and break the ice. Maybe secure a later meeting to do the business discussion.

My adventure with Joop had put our three-generation-old business at risk. My grandfather, a master craftsman, had started the watchmaking business from his workshop. In the next three decades, he made 'Jura' one of Europe's most renowned watch brands. He did it thanks to investors who had confidence in him and backed his talent. My grandfather took on four investors into his business - with a ten percent stake each - over time; all rich families of Geneva and patrons of my grandfathers' watches themselves. My father learned the craft by observing his father and took the brand global. Additionally, my father had launched another brand - 'Cross' - on the way, which capitalized on the legacy of Jura, which my father elevated to a limited-edition ultra-premium brand. Our premium brand - Cross - became popular across many countries, and some renowned celebrities have endorsed it as well. The symbol emulated the Cross on our Swiss flag, a white plus-shaped sign on a red backdrop. The only distinguishing difference was the flag is square and our red backdrop is in a hexagon.

As was expected of me, I, too, learned the art of watchmaking from my father. By the time I took complete charge from my father, the business had expanded. On the back of the success of Jura and Cross, I launched Joop - a watch for modern times. A watch that would keep you up to date but did not make you feel old-school. A watch that told you the time, kept you current but reminded you of the history and legacy on your wrist as well.

Unfortunately, it turned out to be a failure. The current generation wanted an Apple watch.

I had risked way too much on the development of Joop. Dorina's only fault was - not stopping in my misadventure. Joop had been losing money regularly, eating up all the margins Jura and Cross were making. Her continued endorsement, I realized later, was not in Joop, but in me. She was backing me, someone she had married and stood by. After losing money six years in a row, I doubled down and got additional investment on board. I let two of our legacy investors increase their stakes to twenty percent each. That pushed our stake in the family business down to forty percent.

All hell broke loose when one of the legacy investors panicked at the progress of the company. I had hit a threshold clause in the shareholder agreement that if the company lost money five years in a row, the investor had the option to exit, and I had to buy the investor out with a preset return on his investment. I had the first right of refusal, and if I did not provide the buyout of the investor, he could turn to other investors. And if they, too, did not buy his stake then the concerned investor could offload his stake with a third party.

Angiola, the high-flying equity investor, had become that white-knight party. She was the proud owner, or so I would like to believe, of a twenty percent stake in our three-generation-old watch business. Despite that, I had still not met her.

After weeks of following up, I got an invite to this party. Angiola's office had managed to convey that she was very busy and could squeeze me into a close get-together that she was hosting where I could meet her. Angiola was a very successful woman, and I decided to ask Dorina to join me for the party. I was not even sure why. In another situation, I possibly would not have imposed it on Dorina; she too would not have liked to be put in an awkward position, joining a party of an unknown host and unknown guests.

Eaux-Vives district, situated on the east of the lake, was usually associated with young corporate executives with high disposable income. Though it was the fashionable and tonier part of Geneva, I was amused that Angiola lived in the Eaux-Vives district, if she did indeed stay there.

Upon arriving, we were escorted to the penthouse of a newish, classy residential building. We got down on the tenth floor; the party was on the semi-terrace. We walked through the spacious penthouse that seemed to span the entire floor.

The terrace garden was dimly lit; music played in the background. At first glance, it looked like some twenty-five to thirty guests. Almost all of them were between thirty and thirty-five. With a few couples dancing with arms around each other, most stood in small groups, talking and laughing, drinks in their hands. The lounge-styled sofas had a few couples sitting close, again in groups chatting and generally having a good time.

Angiola was on an independent single-seater sofa with a guest opposite her on another. It wasn't going to be difficult to recognize her. It was apparent that she was the queen-bee of the place. An aura around her spoke loud enough for all to see.

Dressed somewhat casually but chic, Angiola looked by far the best in the gathering. That was until Dorina arrived, on my arm.

She seemed to recognize me and stood up to greet us.

An extremely charming smile welcomed us, and she took a couple of steps and extended her hand first towards me, "Oh, hiii, Frederic. Glad you could make it. Thanks for coming."

Angiola came about as if we knew each other well.

I extended my hand and took her very gentle hand in mine and offered, "So nice to meet you finally," and then I added, "This is my wife, Dorina."

A very amiable Angiola took another step, and not only took Dorina's hand, she leaned forward to air-kiss Dorina on the cheek, rubbing her own with Dorina's.

"Lovely to meet you, Dorina," Angiola said.

"Nice to meet you too." Dorina offered politely.

"Come join me," Angiola opened her arm, offering us to join her on the sofa.

Instead of moving in the direction where she was originally sitting, Angiola moved towards another sofa in the far corner. This set had two single-seaters and a double. As she walked towards it, the pair sitting on the sofa, realized what she needed and got up without her asking.

The three of us sat on the sofa. Angiola on the middle double seater and Dorina and me on either side of her on the single deaters.

Angiola made sufficient effort to ensure we were comfortable. Before she could waive a hand, a bearer brought champagne in long-stemmed flutes. That was followed by another who brought a tray with tidbits to eat.

The conversation veered from general "how's business" to irrelevant Geneva zeitgeist. It was clear this wasn't the forum in which we would be able to talk business. Despite my anxiety, I tried to sit coolly, barely managing to.

From what seemed like politeness, Angiola frequently turned her head towards Dorina, possibly to make her feel included in the conversation.

When Angiola was turned towards Dorina, talking about something that seemed to interest them both, I had the opportunity to have a good look at Angiola without my being obvious.

Angiola had auburn hair and a nice chest. A slender woman of no more than thirty-five, she had one stocking-covered leg swung over the other. Her arms were bare in the dress that she had on, which had a high neck, so no cleavage. Her heels matched her dress. From my side as I could not help but appreciate her clean-cut long neck. Her thin face and clear jawline made her face look sharper. Her hair was smoothly straightened until her shoulders. She was exquisitely beautiful.

Angiola chatted with Dorina animatedly. I was somehow glad that they had hit it off. I must have missed the conversation altogether because when both of them looked toward me simultaneously I returned a blank look.

Dorina bailed me out, and asked, "Is tomorrow fine? I hope you aren't traveling tomorrow or preoccupied, I am inviting Angiola over to our home, Frederic?"

Angiola and Dorina both looked toward me, questioningly. I aggressively nodded, but the slight delay in my confirmation must have looked awkward to Angiola I regretted.

Nevertheless, the visit was reconfirmed. Their conversation veered to yet another subject.

My mood picked up remarkably, as I patted myself on the back for having ensured Dorina was accompanying me that night. Thanks to her, I was going to have some quality time with Angiola, and we can discuss the impending business issue when we have her over the next afternoon.

I glanced appreciatively toward Dorina. At thirty-four, Dorina would easily pass as a model. She had the most loving, cheery face, high cheekbones, and a dollop of a chin. Her full lips were the most kissable I have seen on any woman. She was slim, five-foot-four - about an inch shorter than Angiola - a nice pair of breasts and a very shapely ass. Thanks to years of professional tennis behind her, she was in extremely good shape. Back when she was playing professionally, Dorina had been rated as one of the sexiest European tennis players. A private person generally, on impulse once, she had done a photoshoot that could be considered racy and had created a lot of ruckus back then in the tennis circles and beyond. A range of photos showed her coming out of the Lac Leman, with a very wet white tank top and a tiny panty.

I took pride in the fact that she was by far the most beautiful person at the party, Angiola came a very close second.

I must have zoned out again because I did not know why they both got up.

Once again, Dorina bailed me, "Frederic, I am going to go see Angiola's collection and be back in a bit."

I did not have the foggiest idea of what she was talking about and what collection they were going to see, and where. But I smiled and nodded as if I was the one giving the permission.

Though all I saw was Dorina take Angiola's hand in hers as they walked away. I did notice, Angiola gave a faint nod in someone's direction who then started to walk toward me. This was a fellow I knew. He extended his hand towards me and reintroduced himself to me, "Hi Frederic, I am Charlie. I work with Angiola."

No, I did not know him. I thought I did. "Oh, Hi. Have we met?"

"Yes, we did briefly at Mr. Muller's office." Muller was our investor who had bailed. When I had last met him in his office, I had seen Charlie. At the time I must have ticked him off one of Muller's staff.

"Yes, now I remember. That's where I saw you. I thought you looked familiar. How are you?" Behind him, I saw Angiola and Dorina walk inside.

Soon, I got engrossed in discussions with Charlie as he engaged me in conversation about Muller and his shareholding in my business. It took him half an hour to detail the contours of what Angiola had in mind.

By the time he finished, the confidence I had felt was dissipating rapidly. As the plan sank in, I went to a distant blankness in my mind, despite the weather being cool I felt sweaty.

At the end of the conversation, I excused myself, sat back on the sofa, and tried to think with whatever little capacity I had left.

Another half an hour of silence later, I was panicky but I had my wits about me. I had to convince Angiola that her plan was not great, and certainly I could not be on board with it. In my state, I did not see any reason for me to even wait for the next day.

I looked around for Angiola but I could not see her around on the terrace. I got up to look for her, I had all but forgotten about Dorina.

Then I remembered her going in with Dorina. I felt better, now I had a better excuse - I was looking for Dorina and Angiola.

I went inside and moved aimlessly, not sure where to look in that spacious penthouse apartment. I checked the main sitting room which had a couple occupying the sofa, and they were necking.

I moved on to the inside of the floor and checked out a modern, classy, and expensively-furnished home. The place looked barely used, infact it looked rather new. The fourth door on my right was not fully shut. Regardless, I knocked politely and waited a couple of seconds before entering.

As I entered the large reading room, which seemed much more like a library with lots of books on the walls. It had two sofa sets, both large and very plush. On one two-seater were Angiola and Dorina.

They sat extremely close. Angiola's hand was behind Dorina's neck, whose head was leaning into Angiola's shoulder. I was dumbfounded. Had I not known that the woman was in Angiola's arms, I would have bet the two women were kissing. Dorina's hair was certainly not disheveled when we came to the party. My mouth was open, and I could not find the right response.

Angiola, on the other hand, signalled me inside. There was no one else in the room. Silently, she offered me a seat on the single-seater next to the large sofa on which the women sat. Dorina and Angiola looked towards me as if questioning "What do you want, Frederic?"

After what I had heard from Charlie, I was not sure where to start. Should I discuss what I had heard from him or should I ask Dorina what she was doing? I chose the former. "Angiola, I just spoke with Charlie. He shared with me your plans to sell the stake you have acquired?" I could not even say out loud that I had learnt she had managed to convince my other investors to sell as well.

Dorina had not budged from where she sat. She was half leaning into Angiola, her head still resting on Angiola's shoulder.

Angiola calmly responded, "Frederic, I am a private equity investor. I buy and sell based on the money the project makes for us. And it would not hurt you either. I am going to make sure you would also make a lot of money as we go through the deal."

"Angiola, It is a third-generation business for me. I cannot let go of the control of the company. The business has remained in the family for over fifty years." my anxiety was by now apparent.

Angiola looked at me quizzingly, as if not knowing what I wanted her to do. To be honest I didn't even know what to ask her. How could I expect her to buy into the company and silently let me keep losing money as she silently watched? But I still trudged, more anxious and less coherent.

Angiola's arm had never left from behind Dorina's neck, keeping her hold on my wife, who on her part simply stayed there comfortably and calmly relaxing, with her face nestled into Angiola's neck. It was too distracting for me. I did not know what to make of Dorina's behavior, I would have to deal with that later.

After a long winding story - she gave me a patient hearing - Angiola offered me an impromptu deal, "what would you say if I offered you a position as a managing director for life? It would ensure my financial interest, and secure your position as well for life. You will continue to drive the business the way you like."

I shut my mind off Dorina's hand which had found its way up. It seems like she was getting bored with our chat. She raised her hand and cupped Angiola's cheek. She had managed to turn Angiola's face towards her own.

Unable to wait any longer Dorina tilted her head up, and their lips met spontaneously. Dorina hungrily moved into Angiola's lips and they tongue-kissed like they must have been before I had interrupted them.

Angiola managed to keep a hungry Dorina in place with one arm, and Dorina held Angiola's cheek to send her the probing tongue inside Angiola's mouth.

I stared, in awe, at my wife kissing and necking a woman she had met apparently no more than a couple of hours earlier.

I was in a daze. I had no way to decide what to think. My career, my business was in the doldrums, a deal had just been tabled to save my life's work - and that of my father and his father - and here I was looking at my wife making out animatedly with the woman who was offering me a deal. I doubted that she was doing it out of the goodness of her heart. I wondered if she was influenced by Dorina? Was it by Dorina? Or by Dorina being in the picture? Has this new dynamic just materialized?

Angiola leaned into Dorina's face and responded to Dorina's kisses with equal passion. They kissed and made out as if I wasn't in the room. Dorina's hand moved behind Angiola's head to get better access to her mouth. Angiola merely had to turn her arm, which was behind Dorina's neck, to pull her further tighter. At some point, their lips stayed open and their tongues, invisible to me, were exploring each other's mouths.

The room was dead silent, apart from the soft, muted moans coming from the sofa barely four feet from me.