Chapter Twenty-One
For all the years that she had lived in Crimson Point, Claudia had never been to Port Charles.
She sure as hell hadn't been missing much.
After knocking on the hotel suite's door that she had been summoned to the night before, the vice-president of Jacks Enterprises patiently waited to be admitted, using the few spare moments to physically prepare herself. She fluffed her hair, pursed her lips, and made sure that her outfit was tastefully professional while, at the same time, flattering towards her many assets. Not that she would be able to change again if she suddenly found her appearance lacking, but it was a ritual that she found comforting, and, after flying all night from Rome to some god-forsaken hick town in upstate New York, she needed the reassurance.
"You whistled, boss," she greeted her employer with a sly grin, stepping into his rented rooms without waiting for such an invitation. Between them, such common social niceties weren't necessary. Offering him an air kiss, Claudia questioned, "what's the emergency?"
"We'll get to that in a minute," Jax replied, "but, first, I want to introduce you to someone." As she followed him into the room, she became even more aware of her surroundings. Although obviously a non-permanent residence, for Jax had been living in Europe for the last several years, the space in which she found herself in didn't seem like the typically impersonal hotel penthouse. In fact, her boss seemed rather at home in the space. The realization made Claudia start to question just how long her presence would be required in America.
Jax's voice brought her back to the present. "Alexis Davis, I'd like you to meet my right... and sometimes left hand woman, Claudia. She's the second in command at Jacks Enterprises. Claudia, this is Alexis Davis, my ex-wife."
Those were perhaps the very last words she had expected to hear come from her employer's mouth, but she hid her surprise, plastered a smile upon her face, and bent overly slightly to reach and shake the other woman's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," the former Mrs. Jasper Jacks agreed.
Of course, she had seen pictures of Brenda Barrett, the love of Jax's life... or so he claimed, so she was caught off guard to see that Alexis Davis was the exact opposite of the famous model. Whereas Brenda was soft and exotically beautiful, Alexis was all hard lines and strength. It wasn't that the woman wasn't attractive; she was just... stately as well. Almost regal. And, for that matter, she looked familiar, too. "I'm sorry, but, have we met before? I could have sworn that...?"
The ex-Mrs. Jax rolled her eyes, laughing self-deprecatingly. "Not only was I once married to your boss, but I'm also an illegitimate Cassadine. Seeing as how you've evidently been living in Europe, I'm sure you're familiar with the family name."
"And don't forget your stint as Eddie's Angel," Jax added in helpfully, a teasing devil apparently perched upon his shoulder, causing his blue eyes to sparkle mischievously.
"I'm sorry, I don't understand. Who's Eddie," Claudia asked, glancing between the still oblivious friends.
"Ignore him," Alexis told her. "It's irrelevant."
"No, it's irreverent and highly entertaining. Remind me later to explain it to you... with pictures," her boss advised.
"Alright, I'll keep that in mind, but, for now, do you care to tell me what's going on? This place looks like the inside of a hospital room." And it did. There were even monitors attached to the other woman laying prone upon the large, overstuffed couch.
"He sprung me early on the condition that I remain strapped up to these machines. After all, we can't have Mrs. Jumbo springing an early leak."
"Yeah, I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about," Claudia said, her eyes widening with bewilderment.
"You'll have to excuse my best friend," Jax replied in answer. "As you can see, she's pregnant."
"Understatement of the decade," Alexis mumbled under her breath.
Without pausing to address his ex-wife's complaint, her boss continued, "she's currently obsessed with making Dumbo references, for she believes that she's carrying a little baby elephant inside of her."
"I see." But she really had no fucking clue what either of them were saying. Nodding decisively once, though, she pretended to. "That's still not clearing up the whole matter of 'Claudia, this is Jax. I have an emergency here. I need you to take the company jet and fly into Port Charles immediately. Have a safe flight.'"
"Well, I think the safe flight part was self-explanatory," Alexis quipped from the couch.
They both ignored her. "Last night," Jax explained, "the self-proclaimed Mrs. Jumbo over there went into premature labor. In fact, for several hours, she was leaking amniotic fluid."
Holding up a hand, she stopped him there. "Please, just skip to the part where I come into play. While your ex-wife might have morning sickness, I don't need to experience the sensation as well. Let's keep all discussion of any bodily fluids private, shall we?"
In silent agreement, her employer simply progressed with his narration. "Anyway, until Alexis safely delivers her daughter a month and a half from now, she's on complete and total bed rest. While I'm aware of the fact that you don't know her very well, needless to say, making sure she follows her OB-GYN's instructions is going to be a full time job in and of itself. Trust me. So, while I'm babysitting her, I'm going to need you to take over temporary management of Jacks Enterprises."
Grinning widely like a fool, Claudia exclaimed joyfully, "you're shitting me, right?"
"Yes," Alexis answered, "he's shitting you." Addressing her ex-husband the other woman said, "really, that's not necessary. I won't let you take a leave of absence just to make sure that I keep my feet up. I'll be fine, and you'll be at work."
"I've already contacted my attorneys and placed you, for the time being, in control," he readdressed Claudia. "Unless there's an emergency and the company is about to go under, you'll handle all day-to-day operations and any problems that arise. Consider me officially on vacation."
Wiggling her brows at him, she teased, "it looks more like paternity leave if you ask me."
As she left, Jax was still thanking her, and Alexis was still yelling objections and insults behind her, but Claudia had already tuned them both out. She had bigger, more important things on her mind... like who she wanted to tell first that she was now in charge of a multi-billion dollar corporation. Oh, if only her father could see her. With control of Jacks Enterprises, she was now more powerful than Anthony Zacchara could ever hope of becoming, and, unlike her father, she had managed to rise so highly without an ocean of blood buoying her upwards. After all, compared to the amount of lives he had ruthlessly taken over the years, including his own second wife's, her damage was a mere puddle in the shower of life, already practically evaporated.
Suddenly, Port Charles appeared bright and shiny to her otherwise worldly and cynical gaze. She couldn't wait to meet her fellow local players. For such a small part of the world, upstate New York certainly was... shark infested, and, now, at least for the moment, she was the biggest shark of all. Claudia had never been so happy in her entire life. In fact, she was pleased as pie... blood red, power hungry, cheery pie.
} ~ {
"I'm so glad you could make it on such short notice," Diane greeted her young guest, shaking Maxie's hand in what she hoped was a warm and gracious manner. Although she was used to being in charge, with this situation, she had to employ subtleness. If anything more than a pair of shoes was to come from their meeting, they both had to leave that afternoon happy. "I know I just met you last night, but I really wanted to talk with you. I've been thinking."
Before she could say more, an eager Spinelli stepped closer to her desk, his pen and pad of legal paper clutched distractedly against his chest. "Oh, yeah." Rolling her eyes, Diane introduced them. "Maxie Jones, this is my secretary, Mr. Grasshopper."
The younger woman laughed, boldly. "Please, tell me that isn't his real name. Although... you know, come to think of it, he kind of looks like a grasshopper. His hair has a green tint." Addressing the computer hacker directly for the first time, Maxie advised, "you should have your water tested for chlorine. It does terrible things to one's hair. That's why I only sun when I go to the pool; I don't swim."
"Yes, because we all know good baking yourself at ninety degrees is for your skin," Diane remarked sarcastically. "Anyway," before either of the twenty-somethings could protest or distract them further, she explained her assistant's inclusion in their meeting. "I asked Damien to join us so that he could make a record of everything we discuss today. I find it helpful, especially when one is as busy as I am, to always have all my ideas written down just in case I forget something. Plus, frankly, the kid's a whiz with computers and a genius when it comes to numbers. He balances my check book for me."
"Do you rent him out," the budding designer inquired cheekily as she took her seat across from the attorney's desk. Although her secretary glared at their guest, he didn't respond to the barb, and, taking a cue from him, she allowed the topic to drop.
Sighing and leaning back in her seat in order to achieve a more dramatic pose, Diane said, "I'm afraid we have a problem."
"Oh, those are never words I want to hear."
She could have tortured the young woman for several minutes, but she chose to be kind instead. Because of her run-in with Johnny that morning, that was twice in one day that she had decided to be sympathetic. Something was definitely wrong with her. "I fear that one pair of your delectable shoes will simply not be enough for me."
Maxie's mouth gaped open, and she leaned forward. "How many are we talking here?"
"Well, I'm thinking an unlimited supply, actually. That's why I called you for a meeting so quickly. I have a business proposal for you, Miss Jones."
"I've been in town for less than a week, and you're the second person with obvious good taste to say those words to me. Have I stepped into an alternative reality where Port Charles actually became... hospitable?" Diane laughed heartily, swinging her legs up to cross her ankles upon her desk... the better to show off her new Jimmy Choo sandals to someone who would appreciate them. "Oh, talk about some majorly hip exclamation points to some pretty damn nice stems, Miss Miller."
"Aren't they," she agreed. "I just got them this morning. They were a bribe."
"I think you just became my role model," Maxie admitted with a chuckle. "Well, you know... other than the whole lawyer thing and the red hair."
The girl was sometimes crass and practically always uncouth, but she found her blunt honesty to be refreshing... and quite humorous. There was no one else in Diane's life who would ever dare to speak to her in such a way, and she suddenly realized that she wished there was. While she loved being independent and feisty, self-reliable and confident, it would have been nice to have a girlfriend or two that she could go out with and say anything to.
Although she liked the young Miss Jones, Diane felt as though the age difference between them was too wide of a chasm to cross on a daily basis, and Nadine, Mr. Grasshopper's sister, was just too damn sweet and nice. However, Alexis Davis on the other hand... that woman had her own salt and vinegar spirit. If she would just ditch the husband, Diane felt as though they could pals. What a novel concept, especially given the fact that Alexis, in all actuality, was her greatest professional rival... not that anyone was as good of an attorney as she was, though.
Refocusing their conversation, Diane revealed, "so, what I was thinking is this: if I were to agree to back your business financially, for a little while, at least until you get on your feet, you would pay me with shoes."
"What else," the younger woman insisted eagerly. "Do you have a preference as to how the business is run? Do we go immediately for the big time or start small with a boutique here in town? Just shoes, or are you willing to back my clothing designs, too?"
"Oh, well, I really hadn't thought about any of that yet," she admitted somewhat reluctantly, for she never enjoyed confessing to a self-made error in either judgment or mental acuity.
Clearing his throat, Spinelli entered the conversation. "Actually, if I may be so bold, I actually have a suggestion."
Maxie groaned, sitting back in her chair with an obvious slump. "Oh, this will be good. The kid wearing cargo shorts and a graphic tee things he can give me fashion advice?"
Diane didn't even give her Mr. Grasshopper a chance to defend himself. After all, if anyone was going to insult the little monkey, it was damn well going to be her. "While Damien might not be the snappiest dresser, you should show him enough respect to listen to his ideas. Like I told you, he's a genius. I wouldn't allow him within a ten yard radius of my closet, but, if I were considering the best way to make money, I'd certainly lend him an ear."
"The esteemed Miss Diane Miller, Esquire," Spinelli applauded, acting like the ham that he was.
"If you have something to say, nerd, spit it out. I... we don't have all day, you know." Looking in Diane's direction, the young fashionista questioned, "is he always so... weird and wordy?"
"It's a part of his charm."
"As soon as The Brusque Lady of Justice told me about her desire to bankroll your future in the sweatshop industry this morning, I started thinking about the best way to get the two of you operational and solvent as quickly as possible."
"Haute Couture is not produced in sweatshops, geek," Maxie snapped.
Mr. Grasshopper giggled. "Keep living in your pretty, pretty pink palace there, Evil Blonde One. Denial is not an attractive shade on someone otherwise so intelligent and focused."
Puffing out her chest, the younger woman asked, "you really think I'm smart?"
"Oh, for god's sake, will the two of you please just shut up and get on with it already. You banter more than Laverne and Shirley."
Simultaneously, her secretary and her guest demanded, "who?"
"Damien, just tell the girl your idea."
"I say we launch the line with a website startup. Get local girls to model your designs in and around Port Charles, in places familiar to your clientele, and then advertise locally with fashion shows and agreeing to dress the MC's at charity events and local musical talent. People who like your clothes can then go to your site and purchase things for themselves. Once you've acquired enough revenue, we can use that as capital to get a loan in order to open a boutique... or twenty, I don't know or particularly care other than the fact that my intrepid employer will be involved in the deal."
"You are a freaking genius."
"I told you he was," Diane said smugly in response to Maxie's praise of her secretary. Just then, her phone rang. Glancing at the caller ID, she knew that she needed to take it and that she needed to be in private when doing so. "I have an idea. Why don't the two of you go out to lunch, on me, and discuss this further. Damien can fill me in on everything you decide when he comes back." Without waiting for a reply, she instructed her assistant, "charge it to the office's account. We'll write it off as a business expense."
As soon as they were gone, she picked up the ringing receiver. "I didn't expect to hear from you again so soon."
"I was wondering if you would be willing to access those adoption files for me," Jason Morgan asked. Although she could hear a polite hesitancy to his voice, she also heard a hardened steel of determination. While he might be saying the right words of passivity, she knew that he wouldn't actually accept no for an answer. She could respect that. "I'd like the names of the other two attorneys involved. While I don't expect you to find out let alone tell me who ended up with those two kids..."
"Two little boys," Diane corrected him. "Both children were male according to my paperwork. I remember that much."
Startling her so much that her feet nearly slipped off her desk, taking her down to the floor with them – in fact, she barely caught herself by grabbing hold of her chair's leather arms, Jason said, "if you're right, then I need those names to help me find my sons." Before she could fully adapt to that bombshell, he was dropping another one upon her unsuspecting head. "We have some packing to do, but we'll be back in town tomorrow. I'll call you to set up a time and place for us to meet."
"We?"
"The mother of my children will be returning with me," the enforcer revealed. Then, without a goodbye, Jason Morgan hung up.
Returning her own phone to its receiver, Diane only had one thought. Though it was barely twelve-thirty, she needed a very stiff drink. Or maybe ten.
} ~ {
Sliding into the seat across from his wife – they were having lunch together at The Grill, Alan said, "you'll never guess who I just got off the phone with before leaving the hospital to meet you."
"Noah Drake," Monica posed instantly. Her response was a little too fast for his taste.
"Oh, you would go there, wouldn't you?"
The cardiologist rolled her eyes. "Don't get your old man tighty-whities in a knot. I just though that, with his son causing such a stir already, all we need now is for the father to join the staff as well."
"Because he's such a stud," Alan asked derisively. Even he could hear the jealous petulance floating in his voice, but he couldn't help himself.
"No, because, from what I've heard, Patrick does not get along with his dad."
"Oh."
"Yes, oh, so quit acting like a possessive ass." After glaring at her for several seconds, the chief of staff looked up, hoping to spot their waitress. "And I already ordered for you – something healthy, so don't think that you'll be staining yet another tie this afternoon with butter drippings or gravy grease."
"You act like you're my mother."
"Probably because you act like a fifteen year old," Monica retorted. "Did you ever think that maybe you should just be grateful that I don't want you to die anytime soon?"
With a wry grin, he asked, "is this what romance in your sixties is like for us?"
"What, constant bickering and suspicion? No, we've always been like that."
His smile widened. "Being married to you is such a chore."
"And you're no easy pill to swallow yourself," his wife returned his bantering. "Now, I believe there was something you wanted to tell me when you first got here."
"Oh, yes, Elizabeth Webber called me a little while ago."
"You're right," Monica agreed. "I never would have guessed her."
Just then, their salads arrived, and they waited for the server to place the food before continuing their discussion. Alan noticed a decided lack of dressing on his greens and frowned. As he talked, he pushed the unappetizing, cold vegetables around with the glittering tines of his salad fork. "She wanted to know if there were any nursing positions open at GH."
"I thought Patrick said that she was in no way interested in following him to Port Charles?"
"He did," the chief of staff said, giving up and pushing his plate aside. Monica happily munched on like the rabbit he sometimes thought she was. "Apparently, though, he was either mistaken or something has happened to make her change her mind."
"And what did you say," his wife inquired.
"I told her we'd welcome her with open arms just as soon as she could arrange the transfer. She'll be here tomorrow."
Monica put down her fork. "That's incredibly fast. I think the question becomes is she running away from or to something?"
"I don't know about that, but what I do know is that I'm not going to be the one to tell Audrey."
"Don't look at me," the cardiologist objected, holding up her hands. "I say we leave this alone and allow the two of them to come to terms with each other on their own."
He agreed, and they fell silent. As Monica finished her salad, he sat in quiet, thoughtful repose, silently wondering more about what had motivated Elizabeth Webber to change her mind so drastically and suddenly. After their salad plates were cleared, his wife cleared her throat. "I spent some time with Lila this morning before I left for work."
"And?"
"Did you know that she had a guest yesterday? Jason came to see her."
Just like any other time when his wayward son's name was mentioned, Alan started to pay particular attention to what was said. Sitting up straight in his chair, he asked, "is he alright?"
"Lila said that he was distracted by something and definitely changed since the last time she had seen him. Apparently, he and Sonny have had some kind of falling out with each other."
"It's about damn time that happened," Alan thundered strongly, though his voice was still soft enough so that their conversation remained private. "Did she say anything else?"
"Just that, of all the things they could have discussed following his long absence, they spent the whole time talking about Elizabeth Webber." He could see his wife's blue eyes glittering as she went in for he kill. "Oh, and that he called her late last night and said that he was going out of town for a few days. He'd let her know when he got back."
"So, Jason met with mother yesterday to talk about his ex-girlfriend..."
"We don't know for sure that he and Elizabeth ever dated," Monica pointed out, interrupting him.
"He then goes out of town, and I get a call today from said... whatever Elizabeth Webber was to him, asking for a job at GH." Leaning conspiratorially across the table, Alan queried, "you don't think that this is all related somehow, do you, that Jason had something to do with Elizabeth deciding to move back home?"
"I don't know, but I certainly wouldn't object to the idea."
"Me either," he agreed, sharing a small smile with his wife. Repeating himself in a whisper, Alan confirmed, "me either."