Never Dare a Tycoon (18 page)

“But I’m not getting married,” she said, confused. Antonia hadn’t been paying much attention to the family lately but how could she have missed the fact that they were still planning her wedding? “What caterers?”

Brenda laughed. “Just come on and spend the day with us. It won’t hurt.”

Antonia did as they asked, simply because she was too depressed to argue with them. She showered and changed into slacks and a sweater, pulling her hair back with a clip, not knowing what else to do with the mass of curls.

She went back downstairs and was immediately herded into Marsha’s white Mercedes. She sat in the passenger seat, listening to Marsha and Jennifer discuss different meal ideas for her wedding, not caring what they chose since she wouldn’t be there for the reception. No one would, but she couldn’t tell them that.

She reminded herself that she was leaving Monday morning, heading north to Maine. These would be the last moments she’d spend with these women for several months. She tried to perk up and show some interest, but she was too tired to do anything. And now, the fruit she’d eaten earlier was churning in her stomach.

She had to get a grip on herself. She’d never make it out of the state, much less all the way up to New England if she couldn’t control her nerves better.

They arrived at the wedding dress shop that was almost overflowing with white dresses in every conceivable style. The owner pulled one dress out of the back room and presented it to Antonia as if she were presenting her with the royal jewels. It was gorgeous. And exactly the type of dress she wanted to be married in. It was a simple gown with a fitted bodice, scalloped edges around the neckline, short sleeves, then flaring out at the waist in a fairy type skirt, flowing with layers of silk organza, toile, and chiffon, ending mid calf.

It was a dress made for a Hollywood actress.

Jennifer and Marsha were ecstatic at Antonia’s reaction upon seeing the dress. They quickly pushed her into a dressing room and waited for the owner to help her into the dress.

As soon as Antonia stepped in front of the mirror, she knew that this was the dress she wanted to marry Brett in. If only he loved her, she thought. As soon as the thought came into her mind, she pushed it away. There was no use wishing for something she couldn’t have. She could only have the next three nights with him and then she had to push him out of her mind and her heart.

Marsha and Jennifer were already making appointments for Antonia’s fitting. It would take three separate fittings because of all the material on the skirt that needed to be hemmed and the waistline needed to be taken in an inch or so.

Once they finished making the alteration arrangements, they were on to the first caterer. Antonia tried one of the appetizers presented, but her stomach still didn’t feel very good, so she told Jennifer and Marsha to taste the items and make the decision, trying to hide the feeling of revulsion at the thought of food.

They seemed confused at first, but then took a better look in her face. Antonia missed the knowing looks and the slight nod both of them exchanged because she was trying to look away from all the food. She was really feeling ill and wondered where she’d gotten a germ that would hit her so hard and so fast.

They spent an hour and a half at the first caterer, trying several types of meals ranging from heavy appetizers to a sit-down dinner. When the sales representative carried out a tray of cakes, Antonia stomach rebelled violently. She rushed outside and took deep breaths, trying to calm her stomach.

A moment later, Marsha came out and put an arm around Antonia’s shoulders, guiding her to a wooden bench hidden from the view of the parking lot by shrubbery. Jennifer walked around the corner to a convenience store while Marsha tried to get Antonia to drink some cool water the caterer had given her.

Jennifer came back and handed Antonia a handful of soda crackers, not saying a word. Antonia sat down gratefully but she pushed the crackers aside. “No, please. I’m really not hungry. I just need a few moments then I guess I should head home.” After a few minutes, her stomach calmed down and she was able to smile weakly at the two women.

“Sorry about that. I don’t know what happened in there. I just became so ill I couldn’t’ stand it anymore. I’ll be ok now,” she said, wiping at the fine film of perspiration that had formed on her forehead.

Antonia tried to stand up, but Marsha came and sat down beside her. “Just wait another few minutes to be sure,” she said, rubbing Antonia’s back.

An hour later, Antonia felt wonderful. In fact, she was starving. They were sitting in the conference room of another caterer and the small samples just weren’t enough for her. Once they were finished, Antonia suggested lunch. Again, she missed the smiles exchanged between Marsha and Jennifer who herded her into the nearest restaurant.

That evening, when Brett called at eight o’clock, Antonia was already sleeping on the sofa, the television still on.

 

Sal gently shook her arm to wake her up. “It’s Brett. Can you talk?”

 

Antonia nodded and pushed herself upright. “Brett?” she asked.

 

“What’s wrong?” Brett asked immediately. “Why are you sleeping so early? It’s only eight o’clock.”

 

“I had a long day of shopping. What’s up?”

 

“I just wanted to call and find out how your day went.”

“Oh,” Antonia said, a little off kilter hearing him say he just wanted to talk to her. “Fine, I guess. Thanks. And yours?” she asked, yawning. She had trouble keeping her eyes open so she settled back onto the sofa, letting her eyes drift closed as she listened to his voice.

“It was ok.” They talked for a few minutes and Antonia enjoyed hearing Brett’s voice, even though she suspected that he was just checking up on her, making sure she didn’t get into any trouble during the day.

“You sound exhausted. I’ll let you get to sleep. I’ll see you Saturday, right?” he asked, confirming their dinner with some out of town clients of Hancock Enterprises.

Antonia was planning on getting out of it, but she hadn’t come up with an excuse yet. So she agreed. “Yes. What time?” she asked sleepily.

 

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

 

She hung up the phone a moment later and tried to watch television. But she fell asleep again, only to be woken up by Sal an hour later.

The next morning she felt much more alive. She dressed in a pair of neat, brown slacks and a white silk shirt, tying a silk scarf around her neck to add some color. Today was the big day. She was liquidating some of her stocks and closing down her savings and checking accounts, putting it all in traveler’s checks. Monday was the big day. She was planning on leaving right after Sal left for work.

Hopping into the Porsche, she zoomed off, feeling free and happy after yesterday’s ordeal. She thought about stopping for breakfast somewhere, but she wasn’t in the mood to eat. She wanted to be at the bank first thing to close everything down.

Parking the car at the corner, she walked in right as a teller was unlocking the doors. “Where’s Mr. Pennyworth?” Antonia asked after the friendly greeting of the teller.

The teller pointed to a corner desk where a man in his middle forties was working at a computer. As soon as the man realized she was heading towards him, he stood up and greeted Antonia.

“I’m Mr. Pennyworth. How can I help you?” he asked solicitously.

“I’m Antonia Mazzuchelli,” she said, noticing the instant tension in the man. “I’ve spoken to you on the phone a number of times. It’s nice to meet you finally,” she said, not understanding the look of apprehension on this man’s face. She was sure they’d never met before. Why would he be wary of her in person, she wondered.

Mr. Pennyworth gestured to a chair for Antonia to sit down in. “It’s nice to meet you. What can we do for you today?” he asked.

 

“I want to close out my accounts and put them into traveler’s checks.”

 

“The whole amount?” the man asked, shocked.

 

“Yes,” Antonia said, pulling her purse around to take her wallet out, handing him identification.

 

He took the driver’s license reluctantly. “Ms. Mazzucheli, there seems to be a problem,” he said after typing in some information into his computer terminal.

 

Antonia looked up, eyebrows raised in question.

“You see, there’s a hold on your accounts. It seems that Mr. Thomas Attracelli called yesterday afternoon and inquired about these accounts. He said there might be some confusion with the holder of the accounts.”

Antonia smiled confidently, glad that was the only problem. “Thomas is my brother. The accounts were opened with my mother’s maiden name so that I could maintain my own identity, separate from my family.”

“Well, you see, Mr. Attracelli is on our Board of Supervisors. The accounts are frozen until an investigation is conducted,” Mr. Pennyworth said, a fine sheen of perspiration forming on his upper lip and his forehead. He loosened his tie in an unconscious gesture of tension.

Antonia didn’t believe her ears. “What do you mean? They’re frozen for how long?”

Mr. Pennyworth was clearly uncomfortable about the situation. “I can’t say. It might be a few days, or it could be several weeks. There are several matters that need to be cleared up.”

Antonia saw all her plans falling down around her ears. “I can’t believe this. They’re doing it again!” she said to no one in particular. She looked up at the ceiling, then closed her eyes when her stomach churned at the movement.

“Who’s doing what?” Mr. Pennyworth asked nervously.

Antonia looked around at the bank and its other occupants, wondering how their day could just continue on as if nothing momentous had just happened while her world, while her life was falling into the control of her brothers. The neutral walls and neutral cubicles, neutral carpets and chairs were all starting to spin around her. She had to get out of the bank.

Ignoring Mr. Pennyworth’s calls, she rushed outside, taking deep breaths. She couldn’t believe Thomas had done this to her. She looked around, wondering what she was going to do for money. Everything she had was held up in some ridiculous bank investigation according to Mr. Pennyworth. How was she going to get out of town and start her new life with absolutely no money?

Walking down the street, she crossed her arms over her stomach, aching everywhere as if she’d been beaten. She sat down on a bench and tried to think. There must be some way to figure this out. She couldn’t let them win. It was now a matter of pride. That was her money! She’d earned it by working hard and scrimping every day for the past four years. She hadn’t taken a penny from anyone and now they were taking all of it away from her.

Rejecting the idea immediately, she refused to give in to their control. She decided to liquidate her whole stock portfolio. None of her brothers knew about her investments. She stood up and started down the street. She was just about to open the door to the Porsche when her hand froze on the door handle. A sudden thought terrified her. None of them were supposed to know about her bank accounts. How had they found out about this one?

Hurrying back to the parking lot, she jumped into the Porsche and drove to the bank that housed the headquarters to her investment firm, Finworth Investments. She’d never spoken to anyone here because she’d always invested over the internet.

Speaking to the receptionist, she explained that she wanted to speak with someone about her portfolio, but she didn’t have a name. The receptionist asked her to take a seat and she’d call someone to talk to her.

Antonia sat in the lobby, yet another neutral room, this one using mauves instead of tans. But the effect was the same. Everything was a different shade or tone of mauve except for the gold lettering of the firm over the longest wall.

As soon as a woman came forward to greet her, Antonia knew something was wrong.

“I’m Mindy Carmichael, Ms. Mazzuchelli,” the brisk, professional woman said, her hand reaching out to shake Antonia’s as she approached. “Would you like to follow me to a place where we can discuss your portfolio?”

Antonia shook the woman’s hand tentatively and surveyed the woman. Ms. Carmichael was in her early thirties and very professional in her black, wool suit, white, silk shirt and pearls. Antonia followed her, swallowing down the rising sense of panic. There has to be a way to get out of this.

Ms. Carmichael’s office was a smaller version of the lobby, with the exception of a picture hanging behind her. But the colors used in the watercolor only accented the mauve décor of the office.

“Ms. Mazzuchelli, I received a request for a freeze on your account due to some discrepancies in your bank accounts. It seems that Mr. Carlo Attracelli has some questions regarding some of the investments as well. I’m afraid that we need to call the SEC regarding some trading practices on this account.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Mr. Attracelli says that there might be some insider trading involved. And since this is such a large portfolio, we have to follow guidelines in order to make sure there aren’t any violations or other problems with this account.”

Antonia nodded her head. They were winning. “And an SEC investigation will take how long?” she said, standing and moving towards the door.

 

“I’m not sure. It might take some time. But your account will be placed in an interest bearing…”

Antonia didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. She walked out of the office and slowly made her way to the lobby. She stood against the receptionist’s desk for a moment, afraid she might pass out from the shock. But then the room stopped spinning and she was able to walk to the elevator and out to the street.

Once she was back in the sunshine, she could think of only one more way to get money. She hated to do it, but it was a last resort. She didn’t think her grandparents would mind very much.

After they finished rolling over in their graves because Antonia was going to run away from her fiancé and her family, she corrected herself mentally.

Antonia drove to the bank that held all the family accounts. She was almost afraid to walk inside the white, marble lobby, but she forced her feet to move forward. She was recognized instantly by the bank manager, Mr. Wilson, and escorted to his office on the second floor.