Business and Pleasure (9 page)

“First, I want to thank you all for coming.
I know you and your people are all concerned about the company and
my involvement with Preston Enterprises. I know you’re also curious
about what just happened with Robert Barnes. Let me start by saying
that this company is sound. We’re not in financial trouble; on the
contrary, we’re doing better than ever. I will not sell to anyone.
I built Hamilton from the ground up. I poured my blood, sweat, and
tears into this business, and I refuse to just hand it over to
someone else. Certain people—people like Bob Barnes—are greedy.
They constantly want more. I’m happy with what we have now. We’re
only a few years old. We will achieve a level of greatness, but
we’ll do so at our own pace, and we’ll do so by building the
business ourselves…not by riding on Preston Enterprises’
shirttails. We don’t need to hook up with some big shot company to
become successful.

“The second thing I need to address concerns
my personal life, and as such, I’d like to keep the details
private, but yes, I am seeing Alexander Preston. I understand this
might seem unusual to some of you, and perhaps as a conflict of
interest, but I assure you, as complex as this might be, I’m
perfectly capable of keeping my business life and my personal life
separate. My relationship with Mr. Preston will have no bearing on
anything to do with Hamilton.

Now, as far as Bob is concerned, I found out
he was still in talks with someone over at Preston Enterprises. I
don’t know what he hoped to accomplish, but the fact is, he
intended to undermine me. He wasn’t supportive of me or my business
decision, and so I had no choice but to fire him. I don’t intend
this as a threat, but please let this be a warning to anyone who is
or was working with Bob on this little project of his. If I find
out someone is working against me, I will fire them on the spot. I
hope that covers everything. I look forward to continuing working
with you all.”

The room erupts in a cacophony of clapping
and cheers, as everyone rises to their feet and applauds.

I’m overwhelmed with emotion. As everyone
begins filing out of the room, the men walk up and shake my hand
and the women lean in for a hug. Natalie is the last in line.

“Everybody hated Bob. We’re happy he’s gone,
and you just assured us that you still care about us and this
company. Every person here loves working with you.”

“Thank you, Nat.”

“And if I may be so bold, Ms. Hamilton, I
think you should call it a day, and go home. You look absolutely
beat.”

“You know, I think I just might do
that.”

I never leave the office before four, at the
very earliest, but today, I’m making an exception. Now, I just have
to decide if two in the afternoon is too early to start
drinking?

Chapter Six

“Lizzy!”

Oh, crap. Mark. He found me. Where am I
again? Oh, that’s right, I am at a bar I found while wandering
around downtown Manhattan. The place is nothing special. Certainly
not my usual fare, but I had an urge to go somewhere different.
Where no one would find me, and I could have some peace and quiet.
Looks like that idea is all shot to hell.

“Lizzy. Thank God. What are you doing here?
Have you been here all afternoon?”

“How did you find me?” I manage to string
words together in a way that makes sense, but my speech is
definitely slurred.

“I tracked your cell; it’s what I do, you
know.”

Ah, yes…my best buddy, Mark, who is also one
of the best
cops
in the NYPD.

“Come on, Lizzy. Let’s get you home.”

Mark lifts me off the bar stool I’ve been
holding down for the last several hours and walks me outside. It’s
still light out. A good sign…maybe I haven’t been drinking as long
as I think.

“What time is it?” I ask.

“My God, how long have you been sitting in
there? Stupid question. What difference does it make? You’ve
obviously been here long enough to get hammered.” He sighs deeply.
“It’s seven o’clock.”

I giggle, and then I giggle again, even
though I have no idea why.

“Wow.” I say, and then, because I sense Mark
is a little upset with me, I cough to disguise another chuckle.

I’ve never actually been drunk, so this is a
whole new experience for me. Very weird. No wonder people like to
overindulge now and then. The booze takes your mind off things, and
suddenly, everything is amusing.

I chance a quick glance at Mark’s face. Big
mistake. I collapse back in the car seat, giggling like crazy. His
puckered brow and glowering expression looks
so
funny
. Mark takes his eyes off the road long enough to frown
at me and shake his head. No doubt, he’s thinking I’ve lost my
mind.

We pull up at my building, and amazingly
enough, Mark finds a parking spot directly across the street. Even
in my inebriated state, I realize this is rare. Someone must be
looking out for me, because if I had to walk more than half a block
right now, I’d be in trouble.

I half climb, half fall out of the car, and
Mark hurries around to take me by the elbow. Holding me steady, he
escorts me across the road, into the lobby, and then guides me into
a waiting elevator, and the whole time, I’m struggling like mad to
keep a straight face. The minute the elevator begins moving upward,
I stagger and fall against the wall. If not for Mark, I would have
ended up on my ass…a thought I find absolutely hilarious, but I get
the impression Mark isn’t the least bit amused. We arrive at my
door to find it’s already open.

“Becca!” I shout. I immediately release
Mark, only to latch onto my sister. I lay my head against her
chest, wrap my arms around her waist, and sigh. “Have I ever told
you how pretty you are? You are so-so-so-so-
so
beautiful,
Becca. I love you.”

“Um…I love you, too, Lizzy.”

“No, I mean I really,
really
love
you. A lot.” I lift my head and nod rapidly. The movement makes me
dizzy, and I sway a little. I shut one eye and try to focus on my
sister’s face. Or rather, faces. There are two of them.

“Wow, she is
really
trashed.” Becca
looks past me and addresses Mark. “Thanks for tracking her
down.”

“Sure…no problem. You sure you got her?”

Becca nods and Mark finally let’s go of my
elbow.

“I think we should get her to bed.”

Bed? Why was Becca talking about putting me
to bed? I lift my head again

“It’s only seven. It’s still party time!” I
release my sister and stand on my own two feet for the first time
since leaving the bar. I’m swaying, but I manage to stay upright.
“Becca, go get the brandy out of the kitchen.”

Mark’s angry growl comes from somewhere deep
in his chest. He gives me a look that says he’s getting pissed.

“No!” he says his voice firm. “You have had
quite enough for one night. We’re going to get you upstairs,
changed, and into the bed. Right now.”

“Fine.” I stick out my lower lip, but in
truth, I’m a little relieved when Mark once again grasps my elbow.
Another few seconds, and I’d have been on the floor. I look up at
him and add, “Have it your way.”

Once in my room, I succumb pretty easily.
Eyes closed, I lie on my bed like a ragdoll while Mark and Becca
undress me and slip a t-shirt over my head. Becca brings me a glass
of water and two aspirin from the connecting bathroom, and I sit up
long enough to take them.

“Drink it all,” Mark tells me and nods at
the glass. “You’ll be glad you did. Should help with that hangover
you’re going to have in the morning. Won’t be as bad if you
rehydrate.”

I nod and drain the glass, and then Mark
puts me to bed. He lies down next to me. Becca, who has finished
folding my discarded clothing and placing it on a chair near the
window, bids me goodnight and walks out, shutting the door behind
her.

Mark brushes the hair out of my face, and
when I look up into his eyes, I can tell he’s worried.

“What happened today, Lizzy?”

I let out a sigh as I close my eyes.

“Stupid blond bitch trying to interfere with
my company. Fired that jackass, Bob. So stressed out.”

Through my drunken haze I watch Mark
smile.

“Well, I suppose that will make sense
tomorrow. I have to go back to work. Get some sleep, and call me
tomorrow, okay? That’s an order.”

“Yes, dear.”

The minute Mark leaves the room, my heavy
eyes close and I’m out like flame extinguished on the breeze.

*****

I awaken to my alarm clock and my phone
going off at the same time…not to mention a killer headache and the
worst dry mouth I have ever experienced. I hit my snooze button,
then grab my cell. A quick scroll through the log shows ten missed
calls and five text messages. Three of the calls are from Mark, and
they came in last night, and the rest are from Alex. My phone
starts ringing again, making me jump. The display flashes Alex’s
name and number. Despite the feeling of having sawdust in my mouth,
and my pounding head, I figure I better answer before he thinks I
have fallen off the planet.

“Hello?” My voice sounds raspy.

“Elizabeth! Thank God! Are you okay?”

Sounds to me like he’s shouting through a
megaphone. I put a hand to my poor, aching head. “I’m fine, Alex.
Could you please not yell?”

“Are you hung over?”

“Yes. Bad day yesterday. Thought drowning my
sorrows in booze might help.”

I use as few words as possible and barely
speak above a whisper.

“I’m so sorry. I should have come over last
night.”

“It’s okay. Really. I wasn’t at home,
anyway. My best friend, Mark, is a cop. He found me and brought me
home.”

There’s silence on the other end, but then
he finally starts to speak again. “I’m glad you’re okay. You had me
worried. Are you working today?”

“I have to.”

“Wow. You’re a real trooper. Well, then, how
about we meet up later this evening?”

“Okay.”

“Excellent. I’ll be in touch later.” His
promise to call sounds a bit like a threat this time.

“Okay,” I say again.

I hang up the phone, glance at the clock,
and cuss like a sailor. Damn. Eight o’clock already. “I’m going to
be late. I’m
never
late.”

I scramble out of bed and dash into the
bathroom. My hair looks as if a bird nested on top of my head, and
the only way I’ll fix that is to take a quick shower. I’ll have to
run a brush through before rinsing out the conditioner. I jump
under the powerful jet spray, fly through my normal routine—wash my
hair, rinse, and pile on the conditioner and leave that soak while
I scrub my body, and then rinse off while I brush through the mess
of tangled tresses. Once I’ve got out all the knots, I rinse real
quick, jump out, throw on some clothes, and head downstairs, sans
makeup. I’ll just have to go to the office with a wet head, au
natural.

“Well, good morning, sunshine.” Becca is far
too cheerful for eight o’clock.

“Would you mind taking it down a notch?”

“Oh, Lizzy, you gotta love those hangovers,
huh? Maybe you’ll think twice before you disappear to go drink in a
bar for hours.”

“How dare you judge me for doing something
you
do all the time?”

“Because I’m only twenty-two, and, as you
love to remind me, a young, college-age party-girl. I’m
supposed
to do that all the time.”

She lets out a laugh that just about kills
me. I grab my head and moan. Becca walks over to the counter and
grabs a bottle of water and a couple pills. Obviously, the
‘party-girl’ had enough forethought to anticipate my current
condition.
Thank God
.

“Here, hon,” she says, speaking softly now.
“Take these Advil and drink the entire bottle of water before you
get to your coffeehouse.”

“Okay. Thanks, Becca.”

I do as I’m told; reminding myself Becca has
more experience in this department than I do. Right now, I feel
like I never want to drink again. My head is pounding, my mouth is
still dry no matter how much water I drink, and I feel as though I
could puke at any moment. I walk past several restaurants that
serve breakfast, and the odor of greasy, fried foods cooking makes
me want to vomit. I finish my water and order my latte. Nothing has
ever smelled as good as this coffee does at this moment, but I sip
slowly as I finish my walk to the office, afraid if I drink too
much, too quickly, I’ll make myself sick.

I walk into work and go straight to my
office, hoping to avoid all human contact, at least for a little
while. Luckily, the Advil Becca gave me is beginning to work on my
headache. I still have an ache behind my eyes, but not nearly as
bad as earlier. I sit down at my computer and check my email.
There’s only ten today…someone up there must love me.

A knock at the door draws my attention, and
I look up as Natalie steps in the door.

“Hey,” I say, “since when do you knock?”

She shrugs, smiles, and comes to stand
before my desk. She gives me an odd look and asks, “Are you hung
over?”

“Yes, Natalie... I am.”

“Well, after the day you had yesterday, I
can’t say I blame you, but I have a sneaking suspicion today might
not be much better.”

Oh, boy…here we go
. “What do you
mean?”

“Mr. Davidson called from Neo Corp. He said
there’s a meeting scheduled for today at three, and he says you
should be there.”

Why on
Earth
is there a meeting
today? We never have meetings on Tuesdays. What could they possible
need to discuss? And why does Davidson think I should attend? “He
didn’t
happen
to say what this is all about, did he?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Okay, well, thank you.”
I guess
. I
turn to stare out the window, wondering what other strange, new
developments this day might have in store. A moment later, I hear
the door open and click shut. Apparently, Natalie took my silence
as a dismissal, which is just as well. If I wasn’t in the mood to
socialize when I first walked in here today, I’m
definitely
not up for chit-chatting now.