“What’s that?” Phil might as well be speaking Klingon when he started talking finance.
Phil slipped into his business voice. “A holding corporation owns a controlling interest in other companies, usually, but without offering goods or services themselves.”
Aka, rich people stuff.
“Who owns PowCup?” Gabby asked.
“How should I know?” He slumped back onto the couch, done with his analysis. “Ask Jasmine or G.” Phil narrowed his eyes. “What’s really going on? Is Jasmine leaving G? She’s trying to secure her assets before divorce, isn’t she?” Phil threw back the rest of his whiskey and swirled the remaining ice cubes. “I guess I’m not surprised after tonight.”
“Probably,” Gabby said, letting Phil supply whatever answers kept him figuring out what was actually going on. “Don’t say anything. It’s on the down-down-low.”
“It always is.”
Not ready to give up, Gabby pulled up Jasmine’s email and scrolled through, looking for financial or legal entries, anything besides back-and-forth with Naomi and Lana. Maybe there’d be a quick-and-dirty answer about where that money came from.
One with the subject line “Red dye number six” caught her eye. The message suggested a number of more expensive but natural red dyes for the Inner Glow blusher, to which Jasmine responded, “Stick with number six.” Gabby was pretty sure that ingredient wasn’t on the packaging.
After another twenty uninteresting emails about resort business, she came across one with the subject line: Power Couple 2. The author of the email, [email protected], wantedto know when he was going to get to seePower Couple 2. Gabby hadn’t realized that one was in the works.
Genesis had responded, “Soon. It’s going great.”
She kept scrolling and showed Phil an address that sounded business-y.
“Linkman and Schmidt,” he said. “I’ve worked with that firm before.”
“Really?”
“Down in the Caymans. Brad and I play golf sometimes.” He made a thinking face and amended, “Well, like three times.”
How many golf games were required for what she needed? “Can you ask him? Would he know?”
“Yeah, but he’s not gonna tell me.”
“Can you give it a shot?”
With a shrug, he said, “Fine, I’ll try.” Phil was trying. He was trying really hard to time travel back to 2010 when Red Lobster had been financially solvent and things had been “good.” Gabby felt guilty for leading him on for a second, not that she had promised a damn thing, but let it pass when she remembered how often Phil had done the dishes: never.
After some general “Bro” texts regarding golf and some chick named Jenny, Phil got to it:
Phil:Yo Brad. Know anything about PowCup?
Brad:PupCup duuuuuude.
Phil:…
Brad:I’m not here to say anything bro but daaaayyyum.
“It was worth a try,” Gabby said. “Thanks for the help.”
Instead of heading back to the cottage, she padded through thedark to G’s. As she’d hoped, he and Markus were still there, and Jasmine wasn’t back yet.
“Hey, boys,” Gabby said casually. “I’ve come to collect my fiancé. I need him.”
“Lucky man, George. Go get her!” G hooted with drunken enthusiasm.
“You boys finish up,” Gabby said, “I’m gonna run to the bathroom.”
While Markus wrapped up with G, she tucked Jasmine’s computer back where she’d found it. Maybe she was going to be fired upon arrival, but at least she was giving it her best shot.
