TABLE OF CONTENTS
About Gold Digger
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Acknowledgments
Also by Aleksandr Voinov
About the Author
Riptide Publishing
PO Box 6652
Hillsborough, NJ 08844
http://www.riptidepublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Gold Digger
Copyright © 2012 by Aleksandr Voinov
Cover Art by L.C. Chase, http://lcchase.com/design.htm
Editors: JoSelle Vanderhooft and Rachel Haimowitz
Layout: L.C. Chase, http://lcchase.com/design.htm
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher, and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Riptide Publishing at the mailing address above, at Riptidepublishing.com, or at
[email protected].
ISBN: 978-1-937551-66-7
First edition
September, 2012
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For Vicktor
Not all that glitters is gold.
Nikolai Krasnorada leads the life of a corporate nomad. Working for a gold explorations company, he’s never put down roots, and he likes it that way. Roots can be dangerous, as everyone from his “man-hating” sister to his manipulative mother to his war-traumatized father has proven.
But when his CEO sends him to Toronto to strike a deal with LeBeau Mining, Nikolai meets Henri LeBeau, crown prince to the resources conglomerate and inveterate flirt. Sparks fly immediately, despite the business deal that threatens to go sour and Nikolai’s own reluctance to give Henri false hope about him being Mr. Right. He’s barely come to terms with his bisexuality, and getting involved with Henri would get messy.
When LeBeau Mining launches a hostile takeover bid, Nikolai and Henri find themselves on opposite sides of the negotiating table. But fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—for Nikolai, Henri’s not nearly as interested in his company as he is in his heart.
“Just a moment, Nik,” Tamás said, holding him back by the shoulder before he could leave the restroom to face the high-powered corporate meeting ahead. Nikolai turned and lifted his hands in capitulation while trying not to swat Tamás away when he adjusted his tie.
“You’d just make a mess out of it,” Tamás explained.
“I know.” Nikolai tugged his own shirt cuffs out of the suit at least, flashing a little white. As comfortable as this one was, a tailored suit always reminded him of marriages and christenings and funerals, when things were getting formal and when he’d much rather be wearing jeans and a shirt. Vadim had taken him to his own tailor on Savile Row, a street much less impressive than its reputation. But his father did enjoy the fine things in life, and he’d definitely enjoyed dressing Nikolai “properly.”
The only slightly mortifying thing was that the tailor had thought them lovers. Maybe they’d stood too close or had shown too much affection. Vadim was still a very attractive man, and possibly looked too refined to be straight (he wasn’t), and his own suit indicated he clearly had enough money to keep a boy toy thirty years younger. Still, Nikolai had hurried to call him “Dad,” though that word was always just too demonstrative. As if speaking it referenced a past they’d never really shared, and pointing it out was trying too hard.
Tamás attracted his attention with a wave in front of his face. “You ready?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Nikolai adjusted his cufflink—tiger eye—and dropped his shoulders, which had crept up toward his ears from the tension. He wasn’t made for this. He was an introvert to beat all introverts, and critical presentations weren’t his thing. If Tamás’s spoken English were any better, he would have done it, but Nikolai sounded like a native, so it was his job.
They left the restroom, and the gorgeous personal assistant from earlier ushered them into a large conference room situated in the corner of the building, its two floor-to-ceiling windows displaying other skyscrapers in central Toronto. The room was empty but for the conference table and chairs and a large white board that doubled as a projection surface.
Tamás got to work setting up the laptop and projector while the PA asked them about drinks and then left to get coffee. Nikolai knew the presentation by heart; he’d written most of it, with Tamás then killing all his typos. His spoken English was awkward, but his written English was much better than Nikolai’s. Nikolai inhaled deeply and tried to get rid of the tension. It didn’t work.
“Mr. LeBeau and the rest of the board will be with you momentarily,” the PA said, setting down two cups of coffee in front of them on the table.
“Thank you.” Nikolai took a sip, but the coffee hit his roiling stomach like battery acid. He put the cup down and reached for one of the tiny water bottles standing on the table. He secured a glass, too, and poured it.
“You’ll be fine,” Tamás reassured him in Hungarian, and Nikolai nodded grimly. They should have left this stuff to the corporate finance bankers—smooth talkers, smooth dressers, and too smart for their own good. But this kind of deal called for more commitment—more honesty, maybe. Cards on the table. Was that how the corporate game was played? It had seemed like a good idea at the time. If their CEO hadn’t been tied up with meetings in Georgia, he could have done it.
Tamás pulled a pile of stapled papers from his briefcase and distributed the copies of the presentation around the room.
The door opened, and LeBeau walked in. His silver mane gave his angular, long face a leonine cast, and Nikolai had to force himself to move toward him. Biggest shareholder. Diamond, gold, silver, and copper billionaire. Nikolai had never gotten quite this close to so much money before in his life.
He shook the man’s hand when he offered it. “Mr. LeBeau. Very pleased to finally meet you. Nikolai Krasnorada. And this is my partner, Tamás Kovacs.”
Tamás shook his hand next, while LeBeau inquired after their trip and their hotel, perfectly pleasant and as if he really cared. He grabbed Nikolai’s elbow, a controlling gesture, but there was extremely little Nikolai could do about it, so he pretended he hadn’t noticed.
More men and two women entered the room. “Mr. Krasnorada, let me introduce you.” LeBeau let his elbow go and put his hand between Nikolai’s shoulder blades, steering him to the b
oard members. He introduced them very briefly. The last one caught his eye. Mid- to late-thirties, dark hair, an easy, warm smile, and the charm of an actor. “Henri LeBeau, my younger brother’s son. Only one of the lot who has a head for business.”
Henri’s smile wavered, and Nikolai pretended he hadn’t noticed the jab. He didn’t like hearing it, and he shouldn’t have had to, by all rights. But family always made him tetchy, too.
“Pleased to meet you,” Nikolai said.
Henri shook his head and smiled at him. “Great to meet you.” His eyes were a mellow golden-brown, framed by features that struck him as not entirely British or French, but Nikolai couldn’t place him. Nikolai inhaled deeply, kept smiling, hoping all of this would soon be over and they could fly back to Armenia.
Finally, introductions made, everybody settled and Nikolai and Tamás withdrew to their laptop. A kind soul dimmed the light, and Nikolai glanced over at the PA, who smiled warmly at him from the door. If even the PA was encouraging him, he had to be giving off that anxious vibe he’d been trying so hard to contain. He reached up to pull at the tie, but stopped himself just in time and folded his hands in front of him so they couldn’t get into any trouble.
“Right. Thanks for coming and giving us the opportunity to introduce ourselves and our company.” That, at least, he’d done before. Of course, the board knew damn well who he was and what Cybele Exploration did. Besides, their names and Cybele’s logo of two lions were on the first page of his presentation.
He took a deep breath and walked them through the investment case. The drill pattern, the lab results, the amount of gold they’d secured, the backing from the Armenian government and the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development. Cybele Exploration wasn’t completely a small fish anymore; they’d gone public a year ago and had used the money they’d collected to amply finance their drilling program. They had a fair idea of how much gold was in their exploration area, and there might very well be more, as the resource was still wide open in all directions. Every drill to find the borders of the deposit had only yielded further positive results. They were sitting on an enormous potential treasure, and now was the time to get some help on board. Nobody was better than LeBeau Mining.
After the introduction, Nikolai’s throat loosened up, his voice became steadier, and he began to enjoy it.
I know nothing about mining, but you make it sound interesting, Vadim had said one evening, when they’d sat together and he’d asked what exactly his son was doing these days. And that from a man who’d spent thirty years of his life on one battlefield or another.
Tamás always clicked on the next page of the PowerPoint presentation when Nikolai finished explaining the current slide, and that silent reliability was more than welcome right now. They were a great team. All of Cybele’s inner circle were. Ruslan liked to call them his “Attis boys.” One of those jokes you made when you were too saturated with mythological references.
Nikolai finished the presentation and pulled at the knot of his tie before he could stop himself. He balled his hands into fists at his sides and asked, “Any questions?” like Presentations Etiquette 101 demanded.
The board members all glanced at the elder LeBeau, who had pushed back from the table, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. By contrast, Henri was leaning forward with his forearms on the table, hands folded in front of him.
“Thank you, Mr. Krasnorada,” LeBeau finally said. “You’ve made your case.”
No questions? That couldn’t be good. Nikolai exchanged glances with Tamás.
“Who are you seeing next?” LeBeau asked.
Nikolai glanced back quickly at LeBeau, frowned. “I’m not.”
“You’ve come all the way to Toronto to just make one case?”
Nikolai shrugged. “Yes. Our adviser said that LBM would be the best partner for this enterprise, so we approached you.” They probably should not have put it all on one card. But the possibility that they might get turned down had never really occurred to him. He inhaled deeply, caught Henri’s expression—a crooked smile like a conspirator’s.
“Hmm, that is interesting. You’re either somewhat innocent, Mr. Krasnorada, or a great deal more genuine than will serve you in the cutthroat corporate world,” LeBeau said.
“To be perfectly honest with you, sir, I didn’t expect to walk into a den of cutthroats and thieves, or I would have brought my sword.”
LeBeau stared at him blankly for a moment, and tension descended on the room. Then Henri chuckled. “A gold digger with a sword, now there’s an image.”
LeBeau smirked, then got up and came around the conference table, hand outstretched. Nikolai shook it, still not sure where he stood with this man. Again, LeBeau grabbed his elbow as he shook his hand. “How long are you going to be in Toronto, Nikolai?”
Oh, it was Nikolai now?
“I’m flying back early on Tuesday.”
“That gives you at least three and a half days to do some sightseeing. Are you already booked for Monday evening?”
“No, sir, I’m free.”
“Good. We should get together and have another chat. By then, I’ll have some questions for you. I like to think these things through.” He tapped his temple. “The old cogs don’t spin as fast anymore.”
“I respectfully disbelieve you, sir.”
LeBeau grinned and looked at Henri, who’d just stepped to his side. “Maybe my nephew can show you the city. Since he’ll take over for me one day.”
Henri chuckled. “I think I can pick my own playmates, Uncle. I’m old enough now.”
Playmate? Nikolai smiled and shrugged. “I have no plans, and I don’t think Tamás has any.”
Tamás shook his head and busied himself with packing the laptop.
“Are you guys up for dinner, then? We happen to have a number of fantastic restaurants in the city,” Henri offered.
“Sure. Sounds good.” That had to be a positive sign; Henri LeBeau would hardly waste his precious time if he (and his uncle) weren’t interested. In business, it was all about relationships. And even if this deal didn’t come through, Henri might be willing to give them some pointers on who else was on the market to back Cybele’s mining program.
“Great. Where should I pick you up?”
“We’re at the Drake Hotel.” It wasn’t the Fairmount Royal York, but it had looked so much friendlier on the Internet, and Tamás had been enthusiastic about possibly meeting an American celebrity in the bar, as it was apparently the place to be in certain circles.
“At seven?”
“Fine, yes.” Nikolai pulled one of his cards from his pocket and handed it over. “My number.”
Henri looked down at it, then smiled brightly. “Great. I’ll show you out, eh?” He led the way and guided them both to the elevator. Once the doors slid shut, he looked back at Nikolai. “Don’t worry too much about this. It’s very much business as usual.”
“I haven’t done this before.”
Henri grinned. “Ah, a corporate virgin.”
Nikolai glanced at him, lost for a riposte, and was glad when the elevator binged open. Henri led them out into the foyer and waved the security guy to unlock the turnstile. “See you later.”
“Looking forward to it,” Nikolai said and crossed the expanse of the foyer. Once outside, he breathed a sigh of relief that he’d held inside to not look like a complete idiot. “Wow, that was weird.”
Tamás shrugged. “I think we did a good job, though.”
“Best we could, given the circumstances, but we should have left it to the bankers. It’s not like we can’t afford a corporate finance shark to smile and polish door handles.” Nikolai moved toward a row of taxis. “Let’s get back to the hotel. Shit, we should have booked the Royal York or Westin Harbor Castle or whatever.”
Tamás patted his shoulder. “You going to call Ruslan?”
“The moment I get this suit off.”
Nikolai got into the taxi and gave the address to the driver, then lean
ed back and pulled at the knot in his tie. “Shower, a bite, and then I’ll call him.”
“I’m just wondering how I can bow out of the dinner tonight.”
“Why? At the very least, it’s going to be a free nice meal.”
“Just haven’t been sleeping very well. Didn’t get any sleep on the plane, either.”
“I slept like a baby.”
“I know. You snored.” Tamás smiled at him. “I’ll probably just call it an early night and order something to the room.”
“I can make excuses for you. It’s probably just schmoozing—checking us out, I don’t know. If it were business, I’d think the old man would be there.”
“I’ll owe you.”
“That’s fine, Tamás. You worked hard for all this.”
Tamás looked relieved and Nikolai had to admit that he looked stressed and exhausted now that the corporate façade was falling away. The guy urgently needed a shower and his bed, rather than to be dragged around town by some manager type who had a lot more energy after a long day than either of them.
Nikolai fastened a towel around his hips and settled on the bed before he dialed Ruslan’s number, but Ruslan didn’t pick up. So he pulled out his laptop, connected it to the Internet, and typed a quick email, telling him the meeting had gone well and that he’d be out talking to one of the LeBeaus some more.
There was an email from his father, telling him he’d arrived back in New Zealand from a trip to the States and he was welcome to visit any time. Nikolai typed a quick response saying he’d love to once he got a few days off.
Of course, Vadim wasn’t getting any younger, but New Zealand was a long way away and not really on the way to anywhere Nikolai would need to go. Okay, he’d fly over. It had taken so long to build a relationship with his father that he did his best to keep it. It hurt to think they might not have that many years left, or that his father’s health could deteriorate.
Thinking of Vadim as a frail man didn’t work at all. He’d always looked enormous, indestructible, but maybe all fathers did when you were a kid. During his soldiering days, he’d been absent more than at home, and then he’d left permanently and divorced Nikolai’s mother before Nikolai had hit puberty. He’d reconnected with Nikolai only two years before marrying a Scotsman in 2006. They’d managed to stay in touch, but Nikolai always expected Vadim would simply walk away and reappear a totally changed man yet again. He was lucky that Szandor, a gay friend of his mother’s, had been there during the roughest years of growing up.