Enemy In the Room (10 page)

“Thanks, Davis. Thank you very much.”

“No sweat. Be interesting to know who the
real Kristen Holloway is.”

“Yes. Yes, it will. Thank you.” She hung
up.

As soon as she did, the phone rang again.
She almost didn’t answer, but she noted the area code on the
digital read-out and picked it up.

A familiar voice. “Kristen?”

“Yes, Richard.”

“I’m glad I caught you. You’ve been
traveling, and I wanted you to know that guy called again. I told
him that my wife already knew about the issue, so there was no one
to blackmail. He didn’t seem to care. I don’t know if these people
will really do anything, but I wanted you to know.”

“They’ve already done it.”

“What?”

“They’ve just issued a press release in New
York. The news desk downstairs just called to warn me about someone
with my name in the story. It shouldn’t take long for your phone to
start ringing, or for them to figure out that I’m the other
woman.”

“I’m sorry.”

Kristen closed her eyes. “Richard, surely,
given that there can be no blackmail, this will blow over.”

“I hope so. Janet may have to issue a press
release…just a minute.” There was a long silence, then he came
back. “Kristen, I’m sorry. The phones have lit up here at the
office, and my assistant needs help.”

“It’s hard to believe this is happening.
Call me when you know more.”

“Thanks, Kristen.”

She hung up, then whispered a prayer for
wisdom and strength.

On the other side of the real estate group,
Todd Phelps was going through the same boot-up process in his
somewhat smaller office. While waiting for his email to appear, he
quietly closed his door and pulled out his cell phone, dialing a
number on the Isle of Man that he had been given the previous
Thursday, along with his initial account information and
passwords.

“Mr. Blevin, good afternoon. It’s Todd
Phelps.”

“Oh, hello Mr. Phelps,” came a cheerful
reply with a British accent.

After an exchange of pleasantries, Phelps
gave the required passwords in the proper sequence for that day of
the month. Satisfied, Mr. Blevin said, “The delivery that you
expected has been satisfactorily received.”

$125,000. Thank you, Mike. No strings. No
taxes. And only the first half.

“Thank you, Mr. Blevin. I’ll be back in
touch in a few weeks with additional instructions.”

“Very well, sir. Have a fine week.”

“I certainly will. Thank you.” He
smiled.

A new day is starting for us. Mary is going
to be very happy.

As he walked to their conference room, David
nodded into the offices of several members of his group as they
finished up early Monday phone calls. They gathered and took places
in no particular order, except that David sat at the head of the
long mahogany table nearest the credenza on which were the coffee
service and two boxes of bagels and doughnuts. The latter were a
tradition from David’s earliest days in the industry. The men were
in shirtsleeves. Everyone had notepads. The view, as usual in good
weather, was filled with real estate.

“Good morning. We’re obviously handling a
lot of projects right now, so let’s help each other—brainstorming
and questions are, as usual, more than welcome. But we’ve also got
to move along or we’ll be here until lunch. Kristen, would you like
to start?”

Kristen reported on her trip to Singapore
and Seoul, where she found reasonable replacement space for their
aborted Hong Kong office. Then she turned to Capital Tower. “I
spoke with Bill Porter as I was leaving Singapore, and he said we
can expect the owners’ decision this week. As you know, we bid
significantly more than the asking price, so we certainly should
get it.”

Kristen then went on to her other projects,
and she was followed by her colleagues. When it was Todd Phelps’s
turn, he described their progress on the successful sale of a
surplus warehouse in south Texas, and on an industrial lease in New
Jersey.

“In Minneapolis, our evaluation of the
proposals offered by Brookglen and Overlook is almost complete.
While they are close, it looks like Brookglen is offering us a
better product and a better rate. We’ll be making the decision next
week.”

“Just watch out for those guys,” offered
Chris Grable.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I heard they promised Data Plus the
moon on some suburban Chicago product, but they came in over budget
and four months late. It was a disaster.”

“That’s news to me. Mike Campbell and I went
to B-School together. He’s assured me that they’ll finish on
time.”

“I’m just letting you know.”

“And,” Sawyer added, looking at Phelps,
“please be sure that you really compare apples to apples, whether
Mike’s a friend or not. That requirement is date sensitive since we
have to move out of other space. So choose Brookglen if they’re the
best, but don’t let your friendship cloud your judgment.”

“Absolutely not, David. We’ll only choose
the best.”

“All right, then if that’s all from you
guys, here are a few words on my deals. In Los Angeles I reviewed
properties with brokers and then strategized with our L.A. team
over the weekend. We’re planning to sell the excess office space
but retain the studios and production facilities for long-term
capacity. We can expand as our operation grows.” He stopped,
thinking of Callie. The others were looking at him, waiting for him
to finish

“On Moscow, I’m going over next week. Andrei
Selivanov has created a website with virtual tours of several
spaces. Hopefully, based on his work, I can arrive, choose a space,
start the lease process, and get out in four days.”

“What is the take on their new President
Temirov?” asked Cheryl Miller.

“So far, it seems favorable. Committed to
democracy and reform. He apparently spends a lot of time talking
about moral rejuvenation, just like President Harper.”

“When I was over there last year, “ added
Todd, “before the election, the people we met with seemed to like
him. He says he’ll try to reduce taxes and make it easier for
people to buy homes and apartments. The Russians have enormous
untapped wealth tied up in their apartments.”

“Hey, Todd, maybe you should be the Russian
President’s real estate advisor,” chimed in Tom Meadows.

Sawyer smiled with the rest and said, “Well,
Temirov was only elected a month ago and already he’s announced
that he wants to have a summit with Harper this summer. He wants to
talk about reviving morality and ethics in both of our countries.
Seems like quite a task. How would you even measure reviving
morality?” He shook his head.

“There would probably be ways,” volunteered
Kristen. There was a pause as all eyes turned to her. She smiled.
“I don’t know. Maybe by measuring divorce, teenage pregnancy,
alcoholism, abortions, crime, STDs, the number of new porn movies,
strip clubs, even SAT scores and tax audit results. I’ve never
thought about it, but actually there ought to be lots of ways to
measure the positive effects of emphasizing basic right and wrong.
And with everything going on in Europe, China, the Middle East and
Iran, keeping the Russians as friends might be a good idea.”

There was silence as they skated out onto
the thin ice of values, morality, beliefs—generally taboo subjects
in business. Most of them looked down at their hands, not wanting
to move out any further on the ice. Finally Sawyer broke the
silence.

“Yes, I guess you’re right. I hadn’t thought
about it in that way, either. It’s funny that Russia seems always
to be under a cloud, yet other countries get away with the same or
worse, and no one says anything. So, anyway, those improvements
seem to be what Temirov is after, and I guess in President Harper
he has a potential ally. Maybe they
will
make some
difference, but I wouldn’t bet on it. For now, we’re there because
they have great software people. Anyway, I think that covers my two
major projects. Anything else?”

As they rose to go and most of the men
headed for seconds at the credenza, Kristen said to David, “Can I
see you?”

“Sure.”

Five minutes later they were seated at
Sawyer’s small conference table near the window. Kristen had closed
the door. David rubbed his temple. “Do you want some more
coffee?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Or at least as good as
I’ll be for a day or two.”

“Yeah. Hey, one good thing about getting
older is that jet lag doesn’t affect you as much. If you don’t
sleep anyway, then not sleeping on a plane is about the same as not
sleeping at home.”

She smiled. “Great. I’ll reapply for
international work in twenty years. By the way, are there any more
details about the school killings in London?”

“Only that the killer was born in England to
a family that was originally from Iran.” David paused and looked at
Kristen, who knew his background. “Does it seem to the rest of the
world that everyone with my background—or actually anyone connected
in any way to Islam—is capable of such outrageous carnage?”

She shook her head. “Of course not,” she
answered. “Only a few terrible crazies. I would only add that some
groups within Islam do seem to provide a cover under which those
few terrible people are able to work. Sort of like what used to
happen in the Protestant and Catholic communities in Northern
Ireland until they abandoned revenge—but the Jihadists operate on a
much larger and more deadly scale.”

He nodded. “I wonder why that is.”

“Of course I’m not sure, but it seems like
Islam is more than what we normally think of as a religion. It’s so
much about every aspect of life, like an ideology, that I can
understand why some people go overboard.”

“But isn’t your faith—Christianity—also
about every aspect of life?”

“Yes, but I would say more on a personal
basis. Not specifically about government and rules on almost
everything you can do or think. And not about killing someone if he
or she decides to think differently!”

He looked away. “Yes, I guess you’re right.
I just hate to be even partially painted with that brush because of
my family. I don’t think of myself as a Muslim or a Christian or
anything. I just try to do the right thing.”

She smiled. “I know. I need to talk with you
about that.”

He raised a hand. “You’ve certainly told me
about your faith. I think I understand what you believe. I’m glad
it works for you.”

She paused, thinking. “I guess Islam has
never had anything equivalent to the Reformation. It’s as if the
old Roman Catholic Church of a thousand years ago were still all
powerful, issuing edicts to governments and expecting total
submission. In my personal opinion, excesses like that happen
whenever the focus shifts from personal faith to ‘religion.’”

“I guess I can see that. Hopefully someone
or something will help make that shift in Islam. But, anyway, you
asked to meet, and I know it wasn’t for a comparative religion
class. Sorry. But I do appreciate your perspective.” He looked at
her, as if to give her the floor.
I should talk to Kristen about
Callie. They met a few times before Callie went to school. She can
probably help me understand what to do next
.

“In five minutes you may want to rethink
that, but thank you. David, I’m…I guess I need your help, and I
need to tell you something. I suspect it’s going to affect my work,
at least for a few days or a week.”

“What is it, Kristen?”

“You’ve heard of Congresswoman Janet
Sullivan?”

“Yes. One of Harper’s strongest supporters.
Very smart. Used to work in television, I think. What about her?
She’s not even from this state.”

“Right, on all counts. Well, several years
ago…” She looked up at her boss. “I had an affair with her husband,
Richard, who is an attorney.”

There was silence for a few moments. He
leaned forward and wrapped his hands around his mug. “You? Kristen,
I never would have imagined.”

“I know.” She clasped her hands. “I know.
Look, it was several years ago. I’m a different person now. The
experience changed me. And Richard, too. Neither of us is the same.
I almost never talk to him. But…”

She took a deep breath.

“I was a young residential real estate agent
on the way up. He was an older attorney with a little gray hair,
two teenage children, and a marriage that seemed to be breaking up.
I know now that I encouraged him to leave Janet. Thank God he
didn’t. I was terrible. Richard and I both did terrible things. But
that’s all behind us. Has been for years. As I said, God changed
us, and we’re different people from those days, but I don’t imagine
that the press will understand that.”

Sawyer couldn’t help thinking of Callie.
Finally, he asked, “What do you mean, ‘the press’?”

Kristen moved in her chair and brushed back
her auburn hair with her hand. “Someone telephoned Richard just
before my trip and threatened to expose our affair unless he
persuaded his wife to vote against Harper’s media bill. The one
that would restrict adult movies, like we make.” She paused.
“Richard called to warn me. He couldn’t be blackmailed, because he
and I met with Janet a year after the affair, confessed what we had
done, and asked for her forgiveness. But now, today, I guess to try
to discredit anyone associated with the President and this
proposal, they’ve put out a press release through some group in New
York. So, I guess this is their follow-through on the threat. It
might turn into a media circus. He’s already getting calls. I
expect that I will. David, I’m sorry. I guess it might get a little
crazy for the next few days, so I thought you ought to know.”

“It’s just so hard to imagine you, Kristen.
You’re so…so…”

“I know. Think how I feel. Everything I now
know to be true about life and my faith is instantly trashed by my
past. This may hurt a lot of people, starting of course with Janet,
their kids, my friends, our department, President Harper, maybe
even the bill she’s trying to pass.” She looked down, her shoulders
slumping. “It’s hard to realize all the repercussions we cause
others by what we do.”