L.A. Business

L.A. Business

By

Mark Paul Sebar

Copyright © 2006 All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

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L.A. Business

First Edition Printing 2011

Copyright © 2006 All Rights Reserved

Library of Congress, United States of America

ISBN 978-1-930246-05-8 TXu001668857

http://www.sebar.com/pub

Please support the author, many hours went into this story.

Table Of Contents

01 - Normalcy

02 - The Meeting

03 - Regretful Respects

04 - Reality Strikes Home

05 - A New Day Forgotten

06 - Leads And Dead Ends

07 - Looking For New Deals

08 - Breaks And No Time

Wyler Scott Series

CalHouse Trilogy

Other Stories

Poems

Chapter One – Normalcy

December 1995, Beverly Hills California. It was a very blustery day as pharmaceutical tycoon Veronica Winchester exited her mansion and entered a waiting Rolls Royce with a smiling driver, who awaited her entry to the vehicle.

She was a part of Southern California’s elite wealthy; a billionaire heiress whose family fortunes had been handed down. She was at times forceful and at other times innocent, and even timid in her manners.

This had been a lifestyle she had grown accustomed to, never earning anything, but rather being given everything and expecting people to do as she requested.

She wasn’t a mean lady, nor a true tyrant of sorts, and in fact was a bit soft and subtle, yet she remained unspoiled.

In a sense, Veronica was like the fine delicate flower made of gold, waiting for the right time in her life, the right person, the one who would fulfill the vacuum she had grown in to.

It was her world of bloom, sunshine and subtle perfections that drove her to where and who she had become. To her the world was simple, if you needed something…just buy it, after all, who was she that she could not afford the means to live comfortably?

The door to her Rolls was closed and the driver got behind the wheel, closing his door. He turned the engine over and immediately it rumbled to life with a quiet, but powerful sound from the Rolls Royce motor company.

The Rolls headed for the iron gates that stood sentinel to the estate, and they parted as if in a heavenly fashion, allowing the Rolls to head out the front and into the world, an angel whose wings had lifted it away from a Shan-gri-la. Madam, where to? the driver asked.

Rodeo Drive, Veronica instructed him, gazing out the window at the pretty scenery and a small open park with kids playing. I want to purchase that gold dress I spotted last week.

Very good, the driver replied. The Rolls drove to a stop light in traffic and then hung a left to Rodeo Drive where they pulled over to a loading zone and he got out. With the engine running, he opened the door for her.

Veronica stepped out of the vehicle and turned to him. I’ll only be a few minutes, and then we need to head for the offices.

Indeed, he choked a word, tipping his hat while closing the door of the vehicle that sat idling.

Inside the dress shop, she pranced amongst very extravagant and ultra expensive gowns and shoes on the shelves. Oh, Miss Winchester, the young lady rushed to her. Have you come to pick it up? she asked, clasping her hands with a smile.

Veronica turned her attention to the clerk and smiled. Yes I will. Ah, how much are those, and do you have a size seven? she asked the clerk pointing at red high heels.

Those are priced at thirty four hundred dollars, the clerk smiled. She went to the shelf grabbing a shoe for Veronica as she handed one to her to admire. Let me seat you over here, the clerk walked over to a chair motioning Veronica to it. You can try the shoes on.

Veronica complied, walking to the chair where she casually sat down and relaxed herself. The clerk knelt down and assisted Veronica in the fitting. It’s already a size seven, she winked at Veronica.

Oh great, Veronica smiled. Exactly like the Ruby Red shoes in the original Wizard of Oz.

These are the only pair like this in Beverly Hills. The other pair is in Paris near the shoemaker’s factory

Then I shall consider myself lucky indeed that I am buying these shoes first, I feel like Dorothy, Veronica smiled. That smile of hers while not often displayed was the very trademark that left a long lasting impression on people.

The Rolls Royce steered onto Wilshire Boulevard while driving majestically amongst morning business traffic to the offices located at Century Plaza near the towers; where her corporation occupied several floors, her other offices being located in downtown Los Angeles. The driver took a right turn into the underground parking.

He opened his window and inserted the parking card into the slot and the gate rose, allowing him to drive on, while Veronica studied the parked cars. He soon pulled into a reserved spot for her and closed the motor, quickly exiting the vehicle.

As he opened the door to the car, her first foot exited with the red shoe on it, as it glittered in the dim parking garage lighting.

She took a quality leather valise and turned a moment, glancing back at him. She winked at the driver as he closed the door, a smile upon his face.

Making her way to the elevator, she pressed the button and waited patiently, watching the floors as it descended to parking level one.

Suddenly an older big man approached from behind. He had a face chiseled of stone, a squared chin, fading blond hair gone gray and a devious expression, yet he was polite and seemed cultured and well mannered. He was a powerful man, and one who lusted and enjoyed it, but wielded it carefully. He was her Uncle Tom Winchester, her father’s brother.

He glanced down at her, a smile upon his face, and then swung an eye to the elevator. Good morning kid, how are you? he asked.

I’m doing great, she told him, cautiously turning her head as her eyes rolled to him for a momentary acknowledgment. And how are you? she asked in a calm and collected voice that hinted of snobbery, yet a restrained respect.

Ah, great, just great, Tom told her as he studied the elevator which seemed to be lingering at the first floor. He pressed the button again several times in his impatience. We have a new drug in processing, that’s an AIDS inhibitor, he continued.

Just thank God we can offer something to those poor people suffering from that dreadful virus and its off-shoots.

We should make a killing on the sales, Tom caught her off guard with his gung-ho money attitude of persistent ruthlessness. "It’s L.A. Business, he added, as he pressed the button twice more in his impatience, which seemed to muse Veronica in her quiet and calm mood. Come on dammit, what’s with this damned elevator?"

No…no large killing profits. I want the lowest possible pricing the company can accept, she stunned him as he turned and glanced down at her in astonishment, placing his hand on his forehead.

In fact, she turned to face him, a snicker upon her face as she clearly was enjoying the moment. I want to enlist the media in showing that our corporation is selling the new drug at cost.

His jaw dropped open in disbelief and her smile deepened. We have to help others, she added and he was about ready for the coroner’s office.

You can’t be serious, he choked to get the words out as he swallowed a lump in his throat.

But I am, she calmly persisted.

You’re making a great mistake, his tone changed, there’s potential for tremendous profit here. It was turning to a sort of plea from him as he put his hands out. Ever hear the saying about helping yourself first? he asked her.

She put her hands on her sides. Uncle Tom, get a heart in it. My parents left me this billion dollar pharmaceutical company to help people. That was your brother’s ultimate destiny for me. My father said it best when he left me the company.

His eyes narrowed as they were locked in a staring contest. She could see some anger and perhaps a little envy written upon his face. My brother didn’t know what he was doing.

Yes he did, she sternly replied. He did what was right.

Both of us were the ones responsible for building it, your father who was my brother and my hard work. Rightfully it should be my half that has the controlling interest, besides the public has a certain amount of stock in it now, he got closer to her, causing her to step back from him. So, his tone got angry, a hot breath blowing upon her powdered nose, it’s not totally ours anymore.

Uncle Tom, she grinned sarcastically, life’s a bitch.

My arrogant little niece. You may one day eat those words, he threatened her.

She stepped forward, face to face with him and her expression changed to anger. Maybe so, but for now, I’m in charge, and suddenly the doors of the elevator opened as she pushed him aside and entered the elevator while he paused a moment, then followed her inside.

As the doors closed to the elevator, standing just to the left of them was Chesley Helms.

He was a bit of a short guy, pleasantly plump, a balding head with sideburns of gray and round glasses in a business suit.

He was the persona of brilliance mixed with gentle overtures, and always an easy smile of patience and confidence intertwined.

Veronica glanced at him, dawning a big bright smile. It was obvious they had a sort of Uncle Niece relationship, even though they were not blood relatives. The kind of relationship that made Tom cringe at the sight of the two of them. Good morning Veronica, Chesley broadened that smile.

She turned her back to Tom, facing Chesley. Good morning Chesley, I heard you have some papers for me to sign, regarding my personal properties.

I haven’t had a chance to review the documents as of yet, Miss Winchester, he told her checking his watch a moment.

I have, Tom chimed in, gaining both Veronica and Chesley’s attention. And everything appears in order. I’ll have them ready for you to sign later this morning.

Tom really, Chesley protested. That’s my job within this corporation.

Remember, they are personal documents. Frankly, Tom’s voice became a bit irritated, you should keep your nose to the company dollars and this department old man. The last part of the sentence was even more hostile in tone.

Enough, Veronica put her hands out. The two of you have to come to terms over things.

Tom placed his hand on her shoulder. Frankly, you should let him go, he grimaced in jest.

No, she held herself back in tone, but it was written all over her face