“How about the boy?” the editor asked.
“He was pretty young at the time.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t know who his father is or the circumstances of his birth. Things like that get talked about in families.”
“I’ve already had a shot at the boy, and he cut me dead, wouldn’t even give me his name.”
“Oh, come on, Kelli; a girl as attractive as you are shouldn’t have a problem getting an eighteen-year-old male to talk to her.”
“Give me the byline, and I’ll give the boy another shot.”
“Okay,” the editor said. He marked up the story and tossed it into his out basket. “Now get out of here.”
35
S tone woke up at his usual time and reached, as he had become accustomed to, for Arrington’s ass. His hand fell on a cold sheet, and he remembered that she was in Virginia. She had called the night before to let him know she had landed safely and to speak to Peter, but that wasn’t the same as falling asleep or waking up with her. Stone felt something he wasn’t accustomed to: loneliness.
Stone arrived at his desk without having shaken the feeling. Joan came in.
“That woman from Page Six, Kelli Keane, called again yesterday. I gave her the story about Arrington writing a book, and I think she bought it.”
“Actually, it’s the truth,” Stone said. “Arrington plans to do just that.”
“Boy, I want to read that one,” Joan said, then went back to her desk. A moment later she buzzed: “Bill Eggers on line one.”
Stone picked up. “Good morning, Bill.”
“A better morning than you may know,” Eggers said. “Hank Hightower called a moment ago and hired us to handle Steele Security-all of it. We’ll have an agreement for him to sign before the close of business today, and he’ll have fired his previous firm by that time, so we’re getting ready to receive their files. His old firm will bombard us with irrelevant paper, and we’ll have to sort it out for ourselves.”
“You do understand, don’t you, Bill, that I’m just terrible at that kind of work?”
“Don’t worry, that’s what we have associates for. And speaking of associates, I think it’s time we assigned one to you.”
“I’d appreciate that, Bill. I’m getting tired of reading all the financial paper. It would be good to have somebody prioritize what I need to know.”
“I’m going to give you a young woman named Allison Wainwright,” Eggers said. “She’s been here a year, so she’s not green, and I think she’ll be a good fit for you.”
“Thanks, Bill.”
“Shall I send her over to see you?”
“Sure; I’m here all day.”
“You’ll find her a little… different.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“It’s hard to characterize. You can make your own judgments. If you don’t like the way it’s going, I’ll pull her and assign you somebody else.”
“Okay.”
“Talk to you later.” Eggers hung up.
Less than an hour passed when Joan buzzed. “There’s an Allison Wainwright to see you.”
“Ah, yes. I forgot to tell you, she’s an associate at Woodman amp; Weld, and Eggers has assigned her to me. Send her in, and then you can put her in the office next to yours.”
“Okay.”
There was a rap at the door, and Stone looked up to see an impeccably dressed young woman, with perfect dark hair and chiseled features. “Good morning,” he said.
“Good morning. I’m Allison Wainwright.”
Stone stood up, shook her hand, and waved her to a chair in his seating area, then sat down himself.
“Do you have any idea why I’ve been assigned to work here?” she asked.
“Bill Eggers thinks I need an associate. I’ve no idea why he picked you.”
“I’m not sure I like the idea of being stuck in Turtle Bay,” she said.
“The door you came in by works both ways,” Stone said, “but before you leave, shall we talk a little?”
“Oh, all right,” she said.
“Tell me about your background.”
“Personal or educational?”
“Whatever you think is important for me to know.”
She took a deep breath. “Born and raised in New York City, Spence School, then Mount Holyoke and Columbia Law.” She hadn’t needed a second breath.
“You look like all of those,” Stone said.
“What do you mean by that?” she asked, sounding defensive.
“I meant it to be a compliment,” Stone replied.
“Oh. What, exactly, do you expect from me?”
“For a start, I want you to read all the corporate paper that comes into this office from Strategic Services and, starting soon, from Steele Security, our new client, and brief me on the high points. In short, I want to be able to appear that I know about everything financial in both firms, without actually having to read the documents.”
“I get the picture.”
“I believe they’ll be sorting out the files as they arrive from the client’s previous firm, so you won’t have to do that.”
“What else?”
“I’ll let you know when it comes up.”
“Is your secretary my secretary, too?”
“Did you have a secretary in the Seagram Building?”
“Just somebody to handle the phones.”
“Joan will do that for you here. We have a line that runs through the main switchboard, so you should probably route your calls through them; Joan will give you an extension number. My advice to you is, make friends with Joan.”
“Why?”
“First, common courtesy; second, she’s a very nice lady and extremely capable; third, she makes a bad enemy.”
“All good reasons,” Allison said.
“And if you’re unhappy working in Turtle Bay, you can work from your own desk at W amp;W, but don’t let your distance make more work for Joan, like calling her to come get a file. If you become friends, she’ll go out of her way to help you.”
“Okay.”
“Allison, you seem to have some sort of chip on your shoulder. You want to tell me about it?”
“It’s nothing to do with you, in spite of what I’ve heard. I just thought that by this time, I’d be doing more important work.”
“What sort of work?”
“More client contact.”
“You’ve been with the firm for what, a year?”
“Yes.”
“There are people over there who’ve been associates for twenty years or more and have rarely seen a client, and they’re doing important work. My experience of Bill Eggers is that he likes to see people succeed, and if you impress him, you’ll be given all the responsibility you can handle.”
“I’ve heard that,” she said.
“Did you expect that you’d make partner by now?”
“No, of course not.”
“Why do you think Bill sent you to me?”
“I’m not sure,” she said.
“Have you been having problems with people in Seagram?”
“A little, maybe.”
“Well, there are fewer people to get along with here; maybe Bill thought it would be good practice for you to start small, before you go back to the offices.”
“You haven’t asked what I’ve heard about you,” she said.
“I’m not interested in gossip. If you’ve heard something that concerns you, then bring it up now or later, and we can talk about it.”
“All right. I’ve heard that you will screw anything that moves, and I’m not up for that.”
Stone laughed. “Perhaps you haven’t heard that I’m recently married.”
“No, I hadn’t.”
“She’s in Virginia, moving into a new house that she started a year ago, and she’ll be gone the better part of a month, but your virtue is not in jeopardy. And we have a son who’s in school at Knickerbocker Hall, on the Upper East Side. His name is Peter, and you’ll meet him in due course. You’ll find that he’s smarter than you, just as he’s smarter than I. It can be a little unsettling at first, but he’s a good kid.”
“I’ll look forward to meeting him.”
“One other thing: a gossip-type journalist has been sniffing around since our wedding, so be on your guard, and let me know immediately if somebody sidles up to you and starts asking questions. Our privacy is important to us.”