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“Idiot!” I yelled, making both the waitress and Christopher jump. The contents on our table rattled dangerously under the force of my closed fist.
I pushed my chair back and paced the length of the table. “What did I tell you to do the second you got the news? What? You wait an hour; that’s one hour behind the others who’ll get there first. Do something useful and get the plane ready.”
The table shook as I dropped into my chair, my hands shaking as I picked up my fork.
“I guess the day just got rough, huh?” Christopher asked through a mouthful of fish.
I held up a hand to stop him. “Please. I just want to angrily eat my meal before I have to fly to Shanghai and try to fix this monumental fuck-up.”
For a while it was only silence besides the sound of our cutlery scraping our plates. Then, Christopher spoke:
“What’s happening in Shanghai?”
I dropped my knife and fork with a heavy sigh. “See this?” I pointed to the remains of tuna on my plate. Christopher nodded. “Bluefin tuna is the most sought-after and most expensive seafood in the world.”
“And you’re going to China to buy it all?” He was having a go at me, as usual.
I nodded. “Kind of. Yes. There’s a Chinese organization who is bluefin to Chord Enterprises. I’ve been trying to land them for years, but they were locked in with a rival tech company based in Sweden. Until a few hours ago.”
“You know, I get the urgency, but it’ll be so much better for your precious tuna if you fly commercial,” Christopher said, going back to his meal. “Carbon footprints on private planes are—”
“Finish that sentence.” I clenched my knife tightly. “I dare you.”
He held up his hands in surrender, chuckling lightly. “I’m just saying…”
“And I’m just saying,” I interrupted, my frustrations getting the better of me, “this is the best chance I’ve had in years, and I’m flying all the way there to blow their socks off, but I don’t even speak the language. How do I convince them if they can’t understand me?”
“Luca, I barely understand you,” he said with a laugh. “Blow their socks off? You mean knock. It’s knock their socks off, man.”
“Knock, blow, what does it matter because I’m screwed.” I pushed my plate back; all my appetite was suddenly gone.
It was rare that someone with my money and network was left feeling helpless. I was the one with the answers, and being at the mercy of something out of my control caused a sick, irrational anger to boil inside of me.
“So, get a translator,” Christopher said with a shrug, still eating as though the end of the world didn’t affect him.
“Get a translator, says the smart guy.” I couldn’t help the disparaging tone. My patience was worn thin. “My plane leaves in less than hour, but sure, I can round up and vet the right person for the job like that.” I snapped my fingers.
“Hey, I’m just trying to help,” he said, mildly irritated.
I got up, buttoning my suit jacket. “You want to help? Give me this translator, then. I have to go.”
“Scarlett could do it.”
I stopped in my tracks and slowly turned back. “Your baby sister? That’s who you think is going to get this deal for me?”
Christopher nodded, his mouth full of roast potato. “Younger sister, yes. She’s not a baby anymore.”
I gave a condescending laugh. “No offense, but—”
“No, I mean it, Luca. She speaks like, seven hundred languages. Plus, she works in tech. Well, used to, anyway. She lost her job a couple of weeks ago.” He finished his wine with a smack of his lips. “I’ll text her to meet you at your office.”
***
“Mr. Moretti?” Angelique, my assistant, stuck her head in my office door.
I turned from the huge window overlooking the city. “Is she here?”
“Uh, no, sir. The captain wants to know how much longer he should be on standby,” she replied.
