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Malcolm learned that lesson quickly and soon returned to his roots. It took little effort to convince him that he would be an asset to the family business, especially with his firsthand knowledge of wine. His grandfather was overjoyed that a member of the family would finally be involved. Malcolm took his role seriously, believing he would be the heir apparent to the family fortune. Not that he expected to inherit all of the family money, but if he could parlay his way into running the company, he would surely have a sizeable fortune. The first two years proved fruitful, and the distribution center soon became known for its vast wine collection.
When Herbert celebrated his seventieth birthday, he decided it was time to elevate his grandson’s position and made him Vice President of Wine Imports. It was an excellent promotion for the twenty-seven-year-old Malcolm, but it still wasn’t enough. He’d discovered his father’s old adage of “one hundred thousand a year doesn’t go very far” proved true, even with his six-figure salary.
Malcolm figured that with the company’s annual volume of business, a few nicked cases of Caymus and Opus One wouldn’t be missed. While the wines were on the higher end of the price spectrum, they weren’t in the stratosphere. No one would notice. Malcolm was able to pull off the skimming for another two years while he continued to justify it to himself. It was his money, too. But when Herbert passed away suddenly, there was a whole lot of commotion, with everyone wanting their fair share of the financial pie. Malcolm was one of three grandchildren. Even though the other two were removed from the business, they were all heirs and were all entitled to their portion. To assure an honest accounting, there was an extensive audit of the business inventory, accounts payable and accounts receivable.
When the paperwork didn’t match up to the reality, there was a lot of finger pointing. Warehouse personnel, delivery drivers, and store clerks were all accused in turn. No one would have believed that it was Malcolm—but his own mother had her suspicions. She knew her son was living well beyond his means with his penthouse in South Beach, his Maserati, and his Louboutin shoes. Raymond thought Malcolm’s wealth came from investing his money thanks to his business background. Besides, Raymond would never believe his son was capable of malfeasance. And Andrea was not about to have her sticky-fingered son come between her and her husband. Instead, she took Malcolm out for a lavish lunch at a rooftop restaurant. The view included Malcolm’s condo building.
“Beautiful view,” Andrea noted as she looked around for local celebrities. “Isn’t that your place right there?” she asked, knowing very well it was.
“Of course, Mother.” Malcolm sensed something big was about to be revealed. Maybe another promotion? Maybe a windfall from his granddad’s estate?
Andrea peered over her champagne cocktail at her son. “Tell me. How are you getting on?”
“What do you mean?” he asked with a silly grin.
“Your investments,” she said calmly.
“What about them?” He was starting to get a little nervous at this line of questioning.
“You appear to be doing quite well, and I know it cannot be the cumulative effect of your salary and trust fund. Your condominium alone is worth over a million dollars.”
Malcolm almost choked on his pinot noir. He paused before he spoke. “Yes, but I bought it at half that.” He set his glass down. “Mother, what are you getting at?”
“I think you know.” Andrea swirled the bubbles in her glass.
Malcolm still pretended the conversation was going to go in a different direction. But it didn’t.
“I want you to apply for a job at FREDO,” Andrea stated.
“What?” Malcolm’s voice was loud enough to draw attention to their table.
“Keep your voice down.” She looked him squarely in the eye. “Do not lie to me. It is not a coincidence that tens of thousands of company profits are unaccounted for. In the wine department.”
Malcolm thought he would choke.
“I do not want to hear any more about this.” She pulled a business card from her Valentino purse. “You will call Alonso Alvarez tomorrow. I’ve already spoken to him.”
Malcolm looked dazedly at the card printed with the masonry company’s name. “How do you even know him?”
“Remember that I was a professor of international studies. We went to school together.”
“What am I supposed to tell him?” Malcolm asked as he broke out into a sweat.
“Tell him you are calling about a job in the Dominican Republic.”
“What?” Again heads turned in their direction.
“Please keep your voice down. Unless you want this to blow up in your face, and it could, you need to make yourself invisible.”
“But what am I supposed to tell people?”
“You tell them you have a wonderful opportunity that you simply cannot pass up.”
“But what about the family business?” He was almost apoplectic.
“We are selling everything. Your father wants to move to a more temperate climate. Someplace with less humidity. And I am in complete agreement.”
Malcolm was devastated. “What does Dad think about me moving to the Caribbean?”
