This Tangled Thing Called Love: A Contemporary Romance Novel (40 page)

Janet dumped the rest of her croissant into the garbage bin and opened the orientation package she had received the day before. She had meant to review it yesterday, but her head had been too woozy from the wine-laced lunch with Lisa and Tom. At the top of the pile were standard benefits forms and Janet filled them out swiftly. The remainder of the binder was still quite thick and Janet reached in to inspect its contents, half expecting to find an employee handbook, but was startled to find a stack of
non-disclosure forms. Employment law was not her specialty, but Janet found the requirement to sign five different non-disclosure agreements surprising. According to the terms and conditions of her employment at Bostoff Securities, she was virtually prohibited from mentioning anything other than her title and the fact that she worked at Bostoff. Not that she would ever divulge the specifics of her work to anyone anyway – at the DA’s office she had worked on confidential investigations and was well-versed in handling private information, but she had never had to sign such elaborate disclosures before. Perplexed, Janet put the forms aside. She would have a word with Lisa about them later.

Remembering her appointment with Tom Wyman, Janet checked her watch. It was ten thirty a.m., and she was due to see Tom at eleven. Janet grabbed her handbag and headed for the ladies’ room. Yes, it was silly, but she wanted to touch up her makeup for Tom. Not that she was interested in him in any way: he was a colleague, but that did not mean that she would not enjoy Tom’s attention.

Janet examined her reflection in the ladies’ room mirror. Today she had opted for a less conservative outfit of a navy pencil skirt and silk blouse with a bow-tie detail. The 1980s inspired combination was very much in style at the moment. Janet had to admit that she was pleased with what she saw: the skirt ended just at the knee, exposing her favorite part of her legs - her calves, which were elongated by her three-inch heels: the pointy-toed black patent Mary
Janes
were not the most comfortable option in her closet, but they were by far the most flattering. The blue-green pattern of the blouse brought out her green eyes, and the bow-tie detail accentuated the slightly lower than average neckline, while her neatly put up chestnut hair provided the necessary counterweight to make her outfit office-appropriate. She looked like a sexy librarian, minus the glasses, and if Janet knew anything about men, she was certain that Tom Wyman would be intrigued. She quickly reapplied her lipstick and dusted a light coat of powder over her face. She did not need any blush since her cheeks were already pink with anticipation.

At a quarter to eleven, Janet was back at her desk. For reasons beyond the powers of her common sense, her heart was palpitating with expectation. Her reaction was absurd, and she was the first to admit it. Instead of primping in the ladies’ room, she should be reading up on SPV creation – the topic of her upcoming meeting with Tom. But right now her mind had the rationale and the clarity of that of an oversexed teenager, and she was powerless to control it. Yet again Lisa had prevailed – thanks to her
meddling,
a business meeting had acquired romantic connotations, fraught with nerve-wracking anticipations of a date, which Janet very well knew her meeting with Tom was not. Yet she could not help acting as though it were… But then it was dishonest to lay the blame entirely on Lisa, for Janet knew full well the underlying cause of her flustered state – after being backstabbed and dumped by her boyfriend of almost five years, her confidence was not what it used to be, and say what she might about keeping her relationship with Tom Wyman purely professional, she could not deny that the attention of this handsome and successful man would be a welcome poultice for her bruised ego.

“Janet?”

A knock on her office door made Janet jump up in her seat. She looked at her watch. It was eleven o’clock on the dot.

“Hi, Tom.”
Janet slowly looked up from her computer screen. She might have spent the last hour agonizing over her meeting with Tom, but he did not need to know
that: to him, she was a busy lawyer in a leading securities firm. So what if her
computer monitor
merely had her email screen? Thankfully, even a man as suave as Tom Wyman did not possess x-ray vision.

“So nice to see you again, Janet.”
Tom beamed
her a
smile, and Janet found herself wondering whether he bleached his teeth, which could put a Colgate commercial to shame. “So how do you find your second day at the firm?”

“Great, thank you. I’ve just been going through some paperwork.” Janet sensed Tom’s eyes alternating from her face to the neckline of her blouse and finally settling on her face, for which he went up a notch in her book.

“Ah, yes – the infamous non-disclosure paperwork, which I’m proud to say I drafted myself.”

Janet shot Tom a curious glance, unsure whether to raise her concerns.

“It’s nothing to be alarmed about,” Tom addressed her silent question. “For someone like
yourself
, the paperwork is a mere formality. We legal folks are more than aware of the importance of confidentiality, but some of the traders we’ve got working here may not be as sensitive… The biggest risk comes with disgruntled employees – whether laid off or leaving because of personal differences, unethical employees will try to take their revenge on the firm by spreading false rumors, and the purpose of the non-disclosure paperwork is to stop them from doing just that.”

“I see.” Janet nodded. “I’ll have it completed shortly.”

“So, are you ready for your first lesson in special purpose vehicles?” Tom grabbed a chair and pulled it behind Janet’s desk, settling next to her.

“We could go into a conference room,” Janet faltered. Her office suddenly seemed incredibly small with Tom being so close to her, causing her to question her outfit. Perhaps, she should have worn a blouse with a higher neckline after all.

“Why bother? It’s nice and cozy here.”

Janet sensed Tom’s shiny black eyes on her, as his knee brushed against her thigh and
froze
like a rabbit hypnotized by a python. Her earlier plans to flirt with Tom Wyman seemed juvenile now – Janet was no match for her overpowering opponent. Tom Wyman’s masculine presence made it clear that he was not the kind of man to be toyed around with: he expected a woman to either go all in or stay out of his way. And Janet certainly was not ready to go all in. She was not even ready to have Tom’s knee brush her thigh.

Janet’s thoughts must have been plastered all over her face because a moment later Tom pushed his chair away from hers.

“Right, so here’s a quick overview of
Bostoff’s
entities…” Tom shifted his chair back and opened his briefcase, laying a thick manila folder on the desk.

It must have been an accident,
Janet thought of Tom’s earlier touch – either that or the man was an expert actor.

“So for every type of business activity there is a specially created offshore entity?” Janet asked, examining the chart that Tom laid before her.

“Depends on the activity, but when it makes market and regulatory sense, yes. All of the swaps business is conducted out of the
Cayman Islands
entity, as
is
the IPO business. Bostoff Securities is a broker dealer registered in the
U.S.
, so that puts us under significant regulatory scrutiny from the
U.S.
regulators, but we hardly keep any activity
in the broker dealer. We try to do as much as possible in the hedge fund, Bostoff Capital, which is a stand-alone Cayman entity.”

“I see.” Janet hoped that her bewilderment was not apparent on her face as she examined the chart of Bostoff entities. She had never seen a corporate chart so convoluted, but at the moment, she did not know enough about
Bostoff’s
business to ask intelligent questions, so she decided to listen to Tom for fear of appearing a novice. After all, Tom was a partner at Ridley Simpson, which was a top-ten national law firm, and the corporate structure he approved had to be legitimate.

“As far as the actual creation of offshore entities is concerned, the process has pretty much been streamlined, so you won’t have to do anything there; I’ll take care of that.” Tom smiled. “Your judgment will be needed when business groups come up with new ventures - that’s when you are to call me in to come up with a game plan.”

Janet felt her face grow warm – she was going to have a talk about this with Lisa. She might not have Tom Wyman’s expertise, but she was not going to sit on her butt, deferring all decisions to him. At least she hoped that that was not the ‘job’ that Lisa had hired her for.

Janet sensed Tom’s searching gaze upon her. “I thought Lisa had explained the structure to you already. Bostoff keeps a very lean internal legal staff, with the bulk of the work outsourced to Ridley Lewis or yours truly.” Tom bowed.

“Lisa gave me a cursory overview,” Janet lied. Other than her title, Lisa had hardly explained the details of Janet’s employment at Bostoff Securities at all, but when faced with a choice between being a department store clerk and an assistant general counsel at Bostoff Securities, the latter seemed like a much more attractive option, at least at the time. “I look forward to working with you, Tom.” Janet conjured up her most guileless smile. “These structures seem so complicated. I will need all the help I can get to get up to speed.”

“Not to worry, Janet. That’s what I’m here for. Now, let’s go over some of the recently created entities…”

An hour later Janet found her head spinning from all the information that Tom Wyman had imparted to her. He had assured her that the Bostoff Securities structure was perfectly legitimate and allowed the firm to receive maximum benefits under
U.S.
tax law while relieving the firm of unnecessary regulatory burdens and thereby ultimately benefitting the investors by maximizing profits and minimizing costs. But while Tom’s flowery assurances were spoken with much confidence, Janet felt a steady sense of unease growing inside her. During her time at the DA’s office, she had questioned her share of white collar crooks, and she saw an unnerving similarity between Tom’s gregarious demeanor and the subjects of her previous investigations.

Janet picked up her notes from her meeting with Tom and headed into Lisa’s office. She had half-expected Lisa to barge in on her and Tom, but Lisa had exhibited uncharacteristic restraint and had stayed away. Lisa’s office was a few doors away from Janet’s office and when she reached it, Janet saw that the door was closed. She deliberated between walking away and knocking, deciding to take her chance on the latter, but received no answer. Janet pressed her ear against the door and received silence in response. She noticed that there was no light underneath the door, and when she tried the door handle, she saw that Lisa’s office was locked. Her second day on the job, and her boss was nowhere in sight to give her direction.

“Ms. Foley is out of the office today,” Janet heard a voice behind her.

She turned around
and
saw a plump woman with curly black hair and brown eyes.

“Hi, I’m Meredith, Meredith Crooner – Ms. Foley’s paralegal. And you must be Ms. Maple? I was just headed to your office to introduce myself.”

“Hi, Meredith, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Please, call me Janet.”

“Thank you, Janet. Ms. Foley told me that I’ll be working for you as well, so any assignments that you might have, I’ll be glad to take over.”

“Thank you, Meredith. I’ll let you know as soon as I have something.” Janet marveled at her growing ability to embellish the truth. She hardly knew what she was doing, let alone giving assignments to anyone.

“Well, I should be getting back to my desk – my cubicle is right over there.” Meredith motioned to a row of cubicles to the left of the hallway. “Just call me if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Meredith.”

Janet headed back to her office: Lisa’s absence would give her ample time to brush up on SPVs and at least try to take a crack at understanding Bostoff Securities’ corporate structure.

Chapter 3

Dennis Walker was giving himself a mental browbeating for nearly blowing his cover. What on earth had possessed him to get all mushy with that stand-offish girl whose computer he had been fixing or, to be more specific, bugging? Well, actually, Dennis knew perfectly well what had possessed him. The girl was damn good-looking, and if he had to admit to having any weaknesses, it was to not being able to pass by a pretty skirt without looking and, preferably, much more than just looking. Still, this was work – not play, and if he wanted to get that promotion he had set his eyes on since he had started his career in the Department of Treasury Investigations Unit, he’d better get his mind out of the gutter and get focused on the game.

Still, even with today’s minor lapse, Dennis could afford to pat himself on the back: he had already tapped into the most critical employees’ computers, and the data that he needed to substantiate the case was flowing in. The most difficult part of his assignment would be to remain undiscovered, which, as the morning had shown, was going to be much trickier than Dennis had anticipated. Playing the role of Dean Snider was proving to be more challenging than he had expected. Dennis was a naturally social creature who was keenly aware of his masculine charms, which he enjoyed exercising on members of the female sex with great success. Dean Snider, on the other hand, was a mousy and shabbily pathetic excuse of a man who was afraid of his own shadow – a role that Dennis detested playing, but was determined to excel at, lest his boss prove to be correct in his initial intention to give the assignment to
Laskin
. Dennis scratched his neck, which was beginning to chafe from the rigid collar of his cheap shirt, and focused his attention on his computer monitor.