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Authors: Lynn Steward

Tags: #(v5), #Contemporary, #Romance

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BOOK: A Very Good Life
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When he climbed the stairs to the bedroom, he saw Dana sitting on the chaise lounge, her face showing no emotion whatsoever. She was motionless, still wearing her gown.

“When are you leaving?” she asked with no expression in her voice.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow!” The response had instantly kindled Dana’s anger.

“Just for three or four days. I have to find an apartment and check out the temporary office space Richard has leased in the firm’s name.”

“Why didn’t you call and tell me the news about San Francisco this morning?” Dana asked. “This is not something minor, like passing up buying a Christmas tree. You should have discussed this with me as soon as you found out.”

Brett sat on the edge of the bed, across from the chaise lounge. He leaned forward and looked at the floor, hands clasped. “It’s something I have to do, so there would have been no discussion as to whether or not I would take the assignment. I’ve been litigating the case, and the task falls to me. It’s that simple.”

Dana raised her voice higher, her intense frustration growing. “Don’t try to sidestep the issue, Brett. You know exactly what I’m talking about. This is about communicating with your wife.”

“As far as informing you earlier, I didn’t want to spoil your big evening. Listen, this separation is going to be difficult for both of us. You think I
want
to be away from you for six months?”

“I don’t know what
you
want anymore, but what
I
want is an explanation of what to expect for the next six months. This affects my life, too. Are you going to be away for six months straight? For a few days each week? A couple of weeks a month? Will you be home on weekends? I’m not a child, Brett. I could have had a discussion about your news this morning and still handled my responsibilities at work. I don’t appreciate learning about
my
life from your associate at work. I would think you would have wanted to share this with me the minute you heard about it. Is everything in our lives on hold until this case is finished?”

“Now just a minute,” Brett said indignantly. “First things first. I tried to make sure that the ball this evening wouldn’t be spoiled for you, and I’m paying a heavy price for trying to be thoughtful. I had no idea that Patrick would give you the news. I intended to tell you as soon as we got home. As for flying back to New York, I anticipate doing so at least one or two weekends every month, but that’s just a guess at this point.”

Dana rolled her eyes but said nothing.

“Second, you should at least know why the case needs to be tried in San Francisco,” Brett continued. He related the judge’s ruling based on where the construction files were currently located and how the decision to use asbestos in the building in lower Manhattan had been made in San Francisco. He also explained that he needed to have a subpoena issued requiring the California contractor to make available the appropriate documents so that he would be able to properly prepare the case when he arrived for his longer stay. These details had no impact on Dana.

Brett pressed on. “What if B. Altman made you a buyer, Dana, and they told you to spend three months in Europe to acquire a new line? Are you telling me that you wouldn’t accept the assignment?”

“I would talk to you about it first!”

“Yes, because you would have the choice of turning down such a promotion. I don’t have that luxury. The judge made an unexpected decision, and Richard wants me on the coast.”

“Brett, I clearly understand that. I have
never
put my needs—or our needs, for that matter—before your work. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes,” Brett said, “and I have always appreciated that.”

Dana stood and looked at Brett, her face flush with resentment. “Well, you may be appreciative, but you have a lousy way of showing it. Your blatant indifference to me and our marriage is becoming unbearable.”

Brett got up and stopped Dana from going into her dressing room. “Dana, listen to me. We’re in the home stretch. We’ve both worked hard to get to this point, and we’ll get through these rough spots somehow. I admit that I’m distracted and irritable sometimes. I can’t stand them holding the partnership over my head, leaving me to feel that one false move and I’m gone. I’ll be better when it’s announced. You’ll see.”

“I know,” Dana said, exhausted from the argument. “What’s another six months, huh? Is the firm sending anyone with you?”

“Patrick will be flying out occasionally. He’s also dispatching a couple of paralegals to help with research and to file motions. Richard knows this is an inconvenience, but everyone else is tied up with cases here in the city. I’ve been working on a case for the Landmarks Preservation Commission, but Janice will have to handle that on her own from now on. It’s not difficult. As for the asbestos case, it’s not something she could manage. She’s a junior litigator, and there’s too much at stake to put such a complicated case in her hands.”

Brett had taken a risk by mentioning Janice’s name, but he thought it was good strategy. It apparently had a positive effect on Dana.

Dana sat on the bed, her head buried in her hands.

“You can always come with me if you choose,” Brett suggested. He already knew how Dana would respond.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I have a full slate of events at the store, plus Bob told me that I’d have to write the mission statement for the Teen Advisory Board and schedule their duties. It was, after all, my brainchild. I also want to keep my eye on the new teen makeup counter to see if it can be expanded at some point in the future. And then there’s my work with Diana Vreeland at the Costume Institute, which I’m really looking forward to. No, I couldn’t get away.”

Brett raised his eyebrows and tilted his head, the hint of a smile crossing his face.

“Yes, I take your meaning,” she said. “I have my duties, and you have yours.”

Brett put his arms around Dana and kissed her on the lips.

“I love you,” Dana said, holding him close. “And thank you for not distracting me from my duties at the ball with the news. I realize that you meant well.”

“I love you, too,” he said. “Believe me when I tell you that everything I’m doing is for us in the long run. Everything.”

They kissed again.

Later, when Dana was asleep, Brett got two suitcases from the back of his closet and put them in the hall by the door. He had packed earlier that afternoon, before Dana returned home from work. He was ready for his first trip with Janice to San Francisco.

C
hapter Thirty-Eight

D
ana awoke on Saturday morning feeling energized. Her work at the store during the past week had been exemplary, and the Sugar Plum Ball had been an incredible success. Her creative juices, however, were still flowing. As she dressed, she had yet another epiphany regarding the contest winners.

Dana had already arranged with Bob to have the girls model junior fashions around the store every other Saturday. But it was Christmas, the most natural season for gift-giving, and there was no sense in losing valuable time—not a single day. If she could reach the girls by phone, she might be able to get them onto the selling floor that afternoon to begin their modeling duties. Over coffee, Dana called the newly-created Teen Advisory Board and asked them to meet her at the store at ten o’clock. Some of the girls had already made weekend plans, but all were eager to get started as soon as possible.

Brett had showered and was ready to leave for Kennedy International to catch a nine o’clock flight. He would grab a bite to eat at the airport before boarding.

“By the way,” Brett said as he put on his overcoat in the downstairs hall, “do you think there’s a position for Patti with the Altman Foundation? Richard told me she had a top job with the Houston Endowment, and John Cirone told Patti that you might be able to pave the way.”

“I heard one of the grant managers was leaving. I suppose I could try to get her a preliminary meeting with Bob, although he doesn’t have the final say-so, but it wouldn’t hurt.”

“Grant manager? That would be perfect! I’m sure she’d also enjoy working with you at the store. Why don’t you take her to lunch at the Colony Club next week and help her get into the swing of things here in New York a bit faster. I can see you two becoming good friends.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Dana stood and put her arms around Brett’s neck. “I know it’s just for a few days, but I miss you already. Call me tonight?”

“Of course I will.”

Outside, the doorman haled a taxi, and Dana gave Brett a kiss as the cabbie put his luggage in the trunk. Brett turned and waved as he slipped into the backseat.

Dana watched the cab merge into the stream of morning traffic on Park Avenue. She was resigned to Brett’s assignment, and she would use his time away to focus her creative energies on the new youth campaigns at the store. She went back upstairs and got ready for work. She was excited that she would be able to implement the duties of the Advisory Board so soon.

• • •

Brett looked through the passenger window of the cab. Since seeing Jack and Andrew in the cocktail area at the Waldorf the night before, he’d been thinking of ways to make sure Jack toed his line. Landing Hartlen Response would almost certainly ensure partnership, and he wasn’t going to let anything jeopardize his chances. This morning, he’d recalled that Patti had worked for the Houston Endowment. Opening a door for her with the Altman Foundation would send a clear message to Jack that he was playing hardball. If Jack ever got cold feet about the consortium, Brett would remind him that he could tell Dana at any time about the affair, and Andrew and Jack would be history. So would Jack’s marriage.

Brett found himself smiling all the way to the airport. He literally had every situation under tight control. He knew Janice would be proud of the clever, albeit devious, way that he was handling matters.

She was already waiting for him when he entered the main terminal.

C
hapter Thirty-Nine

E
arlier in the month, Jack and Ralph Hartlen had rented office space for Hartlen Response in the Chrysler Building on 42nd Street and Lexington Avenue. The two men took an elevator to the company’s suite to inspect progress on its renovation. Carpets had been laid, and most of the office furniture had been delivered over the past two weeks. The telephone company was still wiring the offices, and interior decorators roamed the hallways as assistants hung pictures and brought in plants.

“What about staffing?” Ralph asked his son. “How far along are you?”

“Some of our key people in mid-level management are relocating from Houston, but not many. The assistant personnel director arrived a month ago and has been interviewing for various positions—everything from engineers to public relations to secretaries—and I’m confident that we’ll be up and running by the second week in January.”

Ralph nodded, obviously pleased. “You’ve done a great job as always, son. I never have to worry with Hartlen Response in your capable hands.”

“Actually, I’d like to speak with you about something important,” Jack said while trying to hide his nervousness. “Let’s find a quiet spot and talk for a few moments.”

Jack’s office had been completely furnished and decorated, so he sat on the edge of his desk, one foot on the floor, while his father sat in a client’s chair a few feet away.

“What’s on your mind, son?” Ralph asked. “You look concerned.”

Jack folded his arms and exhaled. He hoped and prayed that he could override his father’s decision about waiting for a patent to be issued on their response technology.

“Dad, I’ve been thinking that if we’re going to open the New York office on schedule, then we need to be ready for a spill from day one. That means positioning our equipment in strategic staging areas, such as the Gulf Coast, the Eastern Seaboard, and in the Caribbean. The machinery will therefore be at least partly visible no matter how much we try to shield it from rival companies. Unless we push back the expansion of Hartlen Response, we need the protection afforded by the consortium proposal of Richard and Brett. I don’t think we have the luxury of waiting months or years for a patent to be issued. Some of the oil tankers now in service are twenty-five to thirty years old, and our research teams tell me that the hull integrity of these vessels isn’t very good. In fact, the draft of some fully-loaded ships is dangerously low while navigating over shallow water and shoals, and that’s asking for trouble. If we’re going to be the leaders in this field, we need to move fast. I think Richard and Brett can give us both profit and protection.”

Ralph remained silent for several seconds. “Are you convinced in your own mind that this is the best avenue? No doubts? No pressure from Davis, Konen and Wright?”

“Absolutely,” Jack said, using his best poker face. “And no pressure. We’ve invested twenty million dollars in our response technology, and we need to be proactive to make sure that we get credit for using it first. If other companies sign a non-compete that binds them for several years, we’ll be perfectly positioned. We’ll see huge returns on our investment.”

Ralph nodded philosophically. “Jack, I put you in charge of this company for a reason, and you’ve taken the initiative in opening this office, not to mention in guiding the development of our equipment at every stage. And the tanker issue worries me a great deal. As head of the company, it’s your call. I’ll stand by whatever you decide.”

“I’ll contact Brett and set up a meeting with him and Richard. Hopefully, we can get this done in the next week or so.”

Jack breathed a sigh of relief as his father got to his feet. Brett had caught the luckiest of breaks the night before and now held the leverage over Jack’s personal and corporate life. He wondered how far Brett might press him on other matters in order to hold his advantage. He didn’t trust him, and yet he was about to put his company in the hands of a blackmailer.

• • •

When Jack returned to his suite at the Sherry-Netherland, he saw that Patti, dressed in a business suit, was on her way out.

BOOK: A Very Good Life
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