“See how you feel by then,” she said sensibly. “You must be sick of me by now. I don't want to intrude on you with your kids. I have plenty of work to do.” She was still carrying the ever-present briefcase.
“You need some time off too. And my kids would love to meet you.”
“Let's play it by ear tomorrow,” she said as they walked out of the airport together. “See you in the morning.” She waved as they went their separate ways, and as soon as she got to her room in the hotel, Steve called her.
“When are you coming home? I miss you!”
“I miss you too, sweetheart. I'll be home by seven Saturday morning. Are you working?”
“I am now. But I'm off tomorrow night. Just climb into bed when you get home on Saturday and wake me.”
“That's the best offer I've had all week,” she smiled. The ugly things Cal had said about her marriage were all but forgotten. She knew they didn't apply to her. He was just a cynic.
“I should hope that's the best offer you've had all week. That guy's not hitting on you, is he?”
“Of course not. This is strictly business.”
“How's it going?”
“Terrific. I can't wait till we get to New York. We're doing Boston on Monday, and then New York on Tuesday. I don't have to leave for Boston till Sunday night, by the way. We'll have almost two whole days together.”
“Shit. I was afraid of that. I'm working on Sunday, for Lucas.”
“That's all right, at least we'll have Saturday.”
“I told you, it's like being married to a flight attendant. The only thing you don't do is serve me dinner.”
“I'll bring home some of those little bottles of tequila from the flight tomorrow night if you want.”
“Just bring you home. I can't wait to see you.” It had been a long week for both of them, and she was equally anxious to see him. She had been following the aftermath of the Empire State bombing on the news, and they still hadn't caught the men who did it. More people had died since the initial blast. The death toll was up to more than three hundred, in spite of Steve and his colleagues’ best efforts.
They chatted for a few more minutes then, and she took a bath. And as she was reading in bed, Callan called with a few casual questions.
“It seems odd not being in the same hotel with you, Merrie. This could become a habit.” He sounded relaxed and friendly.
“You'll be happy to see the last of me after Europe, trust me. But first we go to New York. That's the biggie.”
“I know it is. I'm still a little anxious about it.”
“Don't be. It's gone great so far. And the word is out on the street now. The book is going to be oversold by New York. And the tombstone is going to read like a Who's Who of investment banking.” She was referring to the ad that would appear in The Wall Street Journal the day following the offering that would announce the completion of the deal, listing all the underwriters in the syndicate. And in this case, they would be impressive.
“Thanks to you, Meredith,” he said gratefully. “I could never have done this without you.”
“Bullshit,” she said irreverently, and he laughed. He had come to enjoy working with her, and he was sorry it was going to have to end soon. “How were your kids when you got home? Happy to see you, I'll bet.” Especially with no mother around, she knew how important Callan must be to them.
“They were asleep actually. My housekeeper rules the roost with an iron fist. It's good for them. I'll see them tomorrow night when I get home. I thought I'd stop by the office first. Maybe you'd like to come with me.”
“Sure. I can come by on the way to the airport.” She had every intention of sitting in the first-class lounge with her reading material, having a sandwich quietly, and catching the red-eye.
“We'll talk about that later,” he said discreetly, and then told her to get some sleep and he'd see her in the morning.
And after they hung up, she lay in bed thinking about him. He was a nice man, and had the makings of a good friend, but in a way she felt sorry for him. It was so obvious, even to her, that he had been badly wounded by his wife's betrayal, and eventual desertion. He loved his kids, but there obviously was no longer room in his heart to trust another woman. It was as though Charlotte had destroyed a part of him, and now, eight years later, there was a piece of him still missing. As a result, he couldn't understand the kind of bond she had with Steve, and he was suspicious of it. Thinking of it brought her mind back to Steve again, and she smiled to herself, thinking of how much she missed him, and how happy she would be to see him on Saturday morning. They were lucky, after fourteen years, they still had something very special. And Cal's theory that she didn't love or trust him enough to have children with him seemed like nonsense to her. She drifted off to sleep thinking of Steve, as usual, and her dreams that night were peaceful.
She met Cal the next morning in the lobby at seven thirty, as agreed. They took a short walk around Huntington Park to get some air, and then came back for a cup of coffee. Meredith was surprised at how chilly it was, there was a brisk breeze and a halo of fog still hung over the city. But it felt good to get out for a change, instead of sitting around in stuffy rooms, giving their presentation.
“Ready for the next round?” she asked him as they shared a blueberry muffin.
“All set. What about you? Tired of Dow Tech yet?” He looked energetic and refreshed after a night in his own bed, and he had been happy to see his kids as he left the house to meet Meredith for breakfast.
“Of course I'm not tired of Dow Tech,” she smiled at him, as the waitress poured them each a second cup of coffee. “We still have new worlds to conquer.” But they both knew that San Francisco was going to be easy for them. It was his hometown, and people in San Francisco were familiar with what he had already accomplished in Silicon Valley.
Their first presentation of the day went well, they got a brief break after that, and she got a chance to call her office. And then they went right into lunch, and their next presentation. They had the ritual rubber chicken, and by two thirty they were finished, and everything was packed up. Callan glanced at his watch, and said he thought he might go back to his office, and he invited Meredith to join him.
“I think I might try to catch an earlier flight,” she explained. There was a five o'clock she said she could be on, which would get her home to New York by one o'clock in the morning. And she knew Steve would love it.
But when she called the airline from the hotel, they told her the flight was booked solid. She was stranded till the red-eye. She told Callan she'd wait at the hotel, and do some reading. But he was insistent. He wanted her to come to Palo Alto with him to see the people at his office again, before she left San Francisco. And he wanted her to come to the house, if she had the time, to meet his children.
“You've been gone all week, you'll have plenty to do without having me underfoot,” she insisted.
“I like having you underfoot. Besides, I'm always open to free advice.” He had enormous respect for her opinions, and she knew almost as much about Dow Tech now as he did. He was so proud of his company and family that he was anxious to share both with her. He was so insistent about it that, in the end, it seemed rude not to go with him. She went upstairs and got her bags, and joined him ten minutes later in the lobby. And by three thirty, they were in Palo Alto, everyone in his office seemed pleased to see him, and wanted to know about the road show.
“It's gone off without a hitch so far,” he said with a broad smile, and a glance at Meredith. “Thanks to Mrs. Whitman,” he told his colleagues. Charlie McIntosh had gone home after the lunch at the Fairmont. He wasn't a young man, and he was tired after a solid week of presentations. Meredith would have hated to admit it to Cal, but it was a relief not to have his cantankerous comments and negative opinions to deal with. It had been a strain working with him. And as they sat in Cal's office that afternoon, he commented on it. “I don't know what to do about him, Merrie. I thought he'd be on the bandwagon by now, but he's still mad as hell that I'm taking the company public. He's fundamentally opposed to it, for entirely sincere reasons. But it's counterproductive at this point. But because he feels so strongly about it, he resents the work it's going to represent for him, dealing with analysts, and the SEC, and shareholders. He just plain thinks we're wrong about all this. And he doesn't want anyone looking over his shoulder, not even me at times. He's going to make money on this, but I'm not even sure he cares. He just doesn't want me to do it.”