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Chapter Eight:
I looked at myself in the mirror in the dressing room in my wing. Dressed in a gray suit with a blue and gold striped tie, the company colors, I thought I looked sharp. Some might think that I could use a haircut though, which might go on the agenda in the future. For now, I felt confident, I would make a decent impression.
My phone rang. It was Prentiss.
"How's life as rich and famous?" she asked.
"It's an adjustment," I said. "Did you catch the unsub?"
"It took longer than we would have liked," she said. "This guy took his time with his victims. But Edgar Jennings is in custody."
"Good," I said. "When things calm down a little, I'd love for you and the team to see my new place. It is quite something."
"It sounds like fun," Prentiss said. "How's the eye? I read your half-brother punched you hard over a watch."
"It's not like I haven't been beaten up before," I said. "I'll be fine."
"If you ever need anything, let us know," she said.
"I will Emily," he said.
He hung up. It was good to hear from her. He missed the team and hoped to get them here soon to enjoy everything.
…
The conference room for the board was an ornate setting. All the chairs were of quality leather and hardwood. The table shined brightly under the chandelier. The paneling on the walls also reflected the wealth of what would be discussed.
There were eight men and four women on the board. Most were over the age of fifty, and only one member was in his forties. They all looked distinguished and carried themselves with a certain level of pride. Reid felt positively small compared to them.
"Ladies and gentlemen of the board," I said formally. "As you know from the video, my name is Dr. Spencer Reid. I have inherited all the assets of one Jacob Jensen. I am here to assure you that I have no intentions of making any changes as to how things are run here at Jensen Technical Innovations. My only request is that I be allowed to work in the engineering department where my PHD might be of use. If you have any questions or concerns, I am here now to address them."
The chairman spoke first.
"Dr. Reid, I think I can speak for everyone in this room when I say, we have little to no concern about your acquisition of Jensen Tech. Jacob Jensen himself had assured us that whoever he appointed as owner of the company would be a person with sound judgement. None of us imagined it would be a son that no one here a knew about, but we trusted Jensen then as we do now. Welcome to Jensen Technical Innovations."
One person raised his hand.
"My wife would like to know: Is the Jensen Gala still being held as scheduled in two weeks from today? It is her favorite event of the social season."
"I don't see why not," Reid said. "The Gala raises over two million for charity every year. I would be honored to maintain that legacy."
"How much does that eye hurt?" one of the women asked.
"Not as much as it looks."
"I happen to have friends in low places," another man said. "Carina Jensen is seeking the legal counsel of Liam Harris. She wants to contest the will."
"There is no reason," I said. "He was of sound mind when he did it. The witnesses are upstanding citizens of the community. There is no reason to consider it a forgery, and there are no other wills written afterwards."
"Spoken like a lawyer," one of the men said.
"I should know my law if I'm going to defend my inheritance," I said.
"Good luck Dr. Reid, and know you have the full support of the board," the chairman said. "No one wants to see this company fall into the hands of Carina or August Jensen."
…
The CEO Wendel Logan insisted on giving him a tour of the facility. He was in his late forties with sandy brown hair and his beige suite was very sharp. Despite his appearance, there was a sense of casual elegance about him that made it is me to connect with him.
"As you saw the top floors are reserved for executive-level work. The middle floors are business and clerical. The bottom floors are where the magic happens," he said with a smile as he pressed the elevator button for floor three.
The doors opened to reveal a wide-open white space.
"Google may have revolutionized the concept of an open flow work space, but Jacob Jensen was always looking for new things to maximize both creativity and efficiency.
Wendel stopped a guy in a lab coat.
"Hey Al, where's Ness?" he asked.
"Making her rounds," he said.
"Find her and tell her to meet us at the boards."
"Sure, sir," he said and hurried off.
"Vanessa Lutze is our chief of technical engineering," Wendel explained. "Jensen scouted her directly out of MIT grad school. If she sounds like she's had three cans of Red Bull and six cups of coffee, that's because she probably has by this time. She is brilliant, but she is also a manic ball of energy."
"She sounds interesting," I said. "What are the boards?"
Wendel walked over to where a series of equations were written out.
"These are Nessa's pet projects. I'm not sure what this is and you can see from the date, it has had her stumped for a few days."
I looked at it carefully.
"It a design for a plastic degradation tool," I said.
"Isn't that chemistry?" Wendel said.
"It's where the disciplines cross paths," I said and looked at each element. "She miscalculated an element by one decimal point."
I instinctively picked up a marker, but quickly turned to Wendel.
"It's your company. Go for it."
I changed the decimal point and started to rework the equation. It was beautifully done. All it needed was another set of eyes to correct some minute mistakes. I continued to write on the next board and saw another hand. She finished the equation.
"It's wonderful," she said softly.
I looked at a woman slightly shorter than me whose bright orange-red hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. Her eyes were green, she had freckles, and a radiant smile. Something about her seemed familiar.
"Thank you, Dr. Reid," she said. "I might have gone mad if you had not figured that out for me."
"You did most of the work," I said. "Have we met before?"
"You were my orientation leader at MIT," she said.
"Now I remember," I said thinking back to her awe-struck face. "You liked my model of a core processor that bored everyone else."
"Equations are an art," she said. "It was like watching Da Vinci painting the Mona Lisa."
I blushed slightly.
"Now we can put this thing into R and D," she said.
"What is it for?" Wendel asked.
"This might be the next big thing," she said. "A universal way of breaking down plastics that produces clean energy. This is positively Nobel Prize-winning."
"Ness, would you like to show Dr. Reid around?" Wendel asked.
"I'd love to," she said.
"She practically lives here, so she's better equipped than me to give you a tour. I'll see you for lunch," Wendel said.
"Okay," I said.
"So, is there anything you'd like to see first?" she asked.
"The zero carbon footprint boats you're designing."
"An excellent choice," she said with a smile.
Reid had a feeling he'd grow to like Vanessa Lutze.
…
"Is your head spinning?" Wendel asked when I met him in the dining room.
"She knows her stuff," I said slowly.
"Ness is the soul of this place," he said. "I've been since before her, and she lives and breathes Jensen Tech almost as much as she loves her expressos."
"She didn't seem to have problem with me working down there with her," I said.
"She comes from the school of group think," he said. "She believes everyone can contribute something to each project. Ness will never turn down another set of eyes on a project if it helps achieve a goal."
"I didn't know CEOs paid so much attention, their engineers," I said.
"Hanging around her makes it sound like I know what I am talking about when I describe to shareholders what is going on in our company," he said.
"Good point."
Then I saw it. A sharp suit and neatly trimmed dark hair.
"Hotch?"
He turned around and smiled.
"Hey Reid."
"You know Aaron Hotchner?" Wendel said. "He's one of our consulting lawyers."
"He was my boss for a long time," I said. "How did I not know you worked here?"
"I'm a contractor, so I work for a few companies," he said. "And now the tables have turned."
Hotch put his food on a table and I stood up. We hugged.
"It's good to see you," I said.
"It's good to see you out of the line of fire," he said.
"Thanks."
"Change is good, Spencer. I know when it happens it doesn't always feel like it, but it is. Trust me."
"I am beginning to see what you mean by that," I said.