Eye Of The Storm - DK3 (57 page)

“Oh boy.” Kerry turned right and plowed determinedly for the door as the cameras scuttled eagerly for the new distraction. She ignored the calls behind her, pretending it was some other Ms. Stuart people were yelling for. “How hard is it to change your name?”

“Not very,” Ceci replied, ducking under a reporter’s arm. “Half of humanity does it on a regular basis.”

“Hmm. Good point.” Kerry almost made it to the door, but a tall, burly man with a beard, a microphone, and a cameraman planted himself firmly in her way and she didn’t have room to go around him. She stopped and regarded him warily.

“Ms. Stuart, that was a very interesting deposition you gave.”

“Glad you thought so,” Kerry replied. “I just answered what they asked.”

“Our sources tell us you’re estranged from your family. Is that true?”

The microphone came closer and she was suddenly very aware of the round, black eye of the camera.

“Why do you want to know?” Kerry asked directly.

The reported hesitated a beat at the unexpected answer, then rallied.

“This is a public hearing, Ms. Stuart, the people have a right to know the facts.”

“It’s not my hearing,” Kerry objected. “I doubt the public much cares about my facts. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think the juicy action you want is going on over there.” She pointed where her father’s mistress was struggling with her father’s lawyer and then hitting him over the head with her purse. Distracted, the reporter looked, then grabbed his cameraman and started wading over towards the fight.

Kerry sighed. “I said it would be a circus.” They edged past a crowd of excited people, many of them pointing at her, and managed to get outside the room where even more cameras waited. A blast of flashbulbs went off and Kerry was almost blinded, stopping short so she wouldn’t crash into anything or anyone. “Whoa.” She threw up a hand in front of her eyes in sheer defense, then felt a tugging at her elbow and followed Ceci’s lead as they dodged around two local reporters who were on the air and got a little breathing space near the top of the long, marble steps.

She could still hear the yelling inside and, briefly, part of her wondered if she shouldn’t go back inside and stand by her family, despite the fact that she knew she wasn’t wanted there.

She thought about that for a very long moment.

Then she turned and started down the steps. “C’mon. If we wait for them to come out, we’ll never get out of here.”

Cecilia murmured an agreement as she followed and they went down the steps and out through the huge wooden doors. Outside, barri-Eye of the Storm 313

cades had been set up, and a small crowd milled around, seemingly trying to organize themselves.

Banners were raised, and Ceci squinted to try and read them. “I believe those are your father’s supporters.”

Kerry stopped and looked. America for Americans. She breathed, seeing the T-shirts and the cropped hair. The group was white, of mixed ages, and definitely growing. A bus pulled up and started unloading, with men dragging out signs and women carrying baskets. “Oh my god.”

A sign went up:

Framed by the Left. Supported by the Moral Right.

“How can they stand behind him, after what he did?” Kerry turned, and asked her older companion. “I don’t get it.”

Ceci took her arm and urged her towards the street. “Kerry, you live in a country where black men get beaten to death in the streets and sex except in the missionary position is illegal in many places. Don’t try to make sense of this, all right? I’ve learned better.” She hailed a cab, which pulled obligingly to the curb for them.

Kerry settled into the seat and moved across, allowing Cecilia room to enter. “You mean, he supports their cause, so they don’t care what he does?”

“Something like that.” Ceci leaned forward and gave the cab driver their hotel address. “Well, I don’t know about you, Kerry, but I certainly could use a drink and some dinner.”

“Yeah.” Kerry nodded. “I would love a couple of beers.” Kerry closed her eyes and her head dropped back against the seat. “And dinner sounds great. Dar said they’re going to pick up something there, then catch the late flight out here.”

“You’re a beer fan?” Ceci chuckled. “And here I go, right after I say not to assume things, I do. I figured you for margaritas.”

“Nu uh,” Kerry shook her head, “I developed a taste for beer in college and it stuck with me.” She considered. “We had a little microbrew-ery near the campus. I spent a lot of time there, studying and tasting.”

Living on campus had given her the first real opportunity to see a life other than the one her parents had planned for her. When she looked back on it, those long afternoons in the pub curled up on a nice padded bench mapping out circuits and sipping her choice of beverage were one of the nicest memories she had of school.

Mostly because she knew it would shock them, as much as demonstrating her finely honed and well developed talent of belching would.

Kerry chuckled to herself, remembering Michael’s face the first time he’d heard her do it.

“Well, from what I read in the lobby, the hotel’s got a nice looking eat-in bar they seem pretty proud of. We could give it a try,” Cecilia commented, sorting through the possible menus and deciding that, at worst, they’d have a stuffed baked potato she could order.

Or maybe some stuffed mushrooms.

“Sounds good to me,” Kerry agreed. “But I gotta get out of this mon-314
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key suit. It’s driving me nuts.” She rolled her head to one side, idly watching the buildings go past in all their marble monstrosity. On the corner just before the hotel she spotted what looked like three of her father’s supporters, with cropped heads sporting shaved, colored sigils in the back, and black leather jackets and boots. They appeared to be just standing around talking and she almost dismissed them, before she saw one of them turn, and watch the entrance to the hotel intently for a minute, then return to his conversation.

She thought about that as they pulled up.

Hmm.

Just because you’re paranoid, Ker, doesn’t mean someone’s not out to get
you.

She glanced at her watch and wondered.

DAR LEANED AGAINST the plate glass of the window, watching the sun go down over the flat landscape. The meeting was over, and now…now all she had to do was wait for Alastair to come back in and wrap things up.

It could have been worse.

It could, of course, have also been better.

Despite what she thought of Ankow, the board could no more remove him for being a bigoted, sneaky asshole than they could remove her for being gay. It was almost annoyingly fair, but she had to admit they had nothing really significant to use to dismiss him with. Certainly, given that she’d admitted to her living with Kerry—they had less on him than what they had on Dar.

So.

An uneasy truce was the best they could manage. Ankow very reluctantly agreed to drop his stupid lawsuit and Dar agreed to keep her revelations quiet as well. It came down to consumer confidence, as always.

Revealing either scandal would hurt the company and since Ankow’s background had been revealed, there was no chance of him getting what he wanted to out of the bargain, so he decided to back off and find another way.

Which meant they’d still have to deal with each other. He’d still demanded that Alastair’s and her positions be put up for a general vote of the stockholders and, on that, the majority of the board had agreed.

None of them managed to look either of them in the eye, though.

Dar sighed and pressed her aching forehead against the cool glass.

The board was uneasy about her and Kerry. She could sense that, in their words and speech, but most of them were too polite to say so to her face.

It wasn’t surprising, really. Most of them were older and conservative and had enough trouble with her being a woman in the first place, not even go into the fact that she was gay.

It shouldn’t goddamn matter.
She’d said so and Alastair had agreed, noting that it hadn’t mattered to him for fifteen years, and here he was a
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family man, a grandfather, as conservative as you could get right down to his black socks and patent leather shoes.

The door opened and footsteps approached, scuffing across the tightly woven carpet. Dar heard a faint creak as Alastair perched on the edge of his desk and she turned, regarding him with quiet, serious blue eyes. “Not a good day, Alastair.”

He tilted his head a little. “Coulda been worse, Dar. Could have been worse.”

“True.”

“I know you think I abandoned you in there.”

Dar shrugged, and regarded the pale stripes of sunlight coming in the window. “No sense in both of us going down.”

“That’s not true, Dar.” Alastair got up and walked to her, putting his hands in his gray flannel pockets and tipping his head back just a little to meet her eyes. “The truth is, I was out of my league. I had no idea what to say or what to do when he pulled that picture out. I was just hoping you did.” He paused. “And, as usual, you handled the worst possible situation with ease and grace and you reminded me all over again why you are where you are and why I put you there.”

“I doubt the board agrees with you.”

The CEO shrugged. “They don’t know you. I’ve had fifteen years to get used to you, Dar. Give them a chance. Eventually—”

“Eventually they’ll forget I’m an evil gay woman with an agenda?”

“Well,” her boss chuckled a bit, “they’ll forget you’re gay. I think it’s going to be a really long time before they forget you’re a woman.” He watched the dark, well shaped eyebrows lift. “C’mon, Dar. We’re a bunch of horny old goats in there, you don’t think half the resentment floating around that room isn’t because not one of us has a chance with you?”

Dar had to laugh. “Alastair, you’re such a bastard sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” he agreed. “Listen, Dar, the fact is that you are very low profile in the company and that’s hurting you, because some of these guys don’t hear anything but the bad stuff about you. I’d really like you to be at the quarterly stockholders meeting and I’d love you to do the presentation this time.”

“Me?”

Alastair nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and it just seems like a good idea to me. Get you out there and get you exposed to all these people who have no idea who you are, but have heard stories.”

He smiled. “Besides, it’s a great quarter for it, Dar. The new network’s up and it’s paid for already. I can’t think of a better scenario for you to have to present.” He paused delicately. “Besides, with that vote in question, it won’t hurt to let them see what they’re voting on.”

“Hmm.” Dar felt very off balance. She hadn’t expected the conversation to go this way and after the session they’d just been in, her brain was still wandering off track somewhere. “All right. I’ll see what I can work up.”

“Good.” Her boss smiled. “Have you got plans for tonight?”

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“Dinner with Dad,” Dar replied. “You’re welcome to join us if you want. We’re heading down the road to the steakhouse.”

Alastair sighed. “Dar, I’m gonna have to kill you. I have to go to my nephew’s restaurant opening tonight.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s called Tofu Gardens.”

Dar cleared her throat. “I have a chocolate bar in my briefcase if that’ll help.” She held a hand out. “Have fun. I’ll be in touch later, Alastair. We’ve got a lot to work out for that new contract.”

“Will do.” The CEO watched her leave, then sat down slowly on his leather chair and laced his fingers around one gray clad knee, as the sunset colored the room around him.

“I THINK AH’M gonna like this.” Andrew nodded approvingly as they mounted the two wooden steps onto the porch outside the large steakhouse. He opened the door and gestured for Dar to go in, then followed her into an atmosphere rich with protein, alcohol, and the inimita-ble dust from peanut shells. “Yep. Slab of beef and a beer and a pretty lady with me. I do like this.”

“Two,” Dar told the hostess, as she shook her head. They followed the young girl down a wide aisle and slid into a booth, its table complete with bowls of packet sugar and bottles of hot sauce. Dar examined one.

“Nice.” She put it back and rested her arm on the table, then slid sideways and leaned against the booth wall. “Glad that’s over with.”

“Ah bet.” Andrew investigated the peanuts, cracking open the shells with powerful fingers, then offering exactly one half of the contents to his daughter. Dar had changed from her business suit into a pair of jeans and a crisply ironed cotton shirt and tied her hair back to keep it out of her eyes in the windy weather. “Things go all right up in DC?”

“Hard to say.” Dar paused as the waitress arrived, a very perky young woman with tiny sparkles in her blue eye shadow. “Irish coffee, please.” She glanced at her father. “Beer?”

“Yeap. One of them dark things, if you got it,” Andrew confirmed.

“And I’d like a rare steak and a tater and some ice cream.”

The girl blinked. “All at once, sir?”

Dar chuckled. “Make it two, and no, the ice cream can come later.”

She nibbled on a peanut as the girl finished writing and took their unused menus back. “Mmph.” She stifled a yawn and tilted her head back, idly watching the silent television above the bar. “Hey,” she nudged her father’s arm and pointed, “that’s the hearing.”

Andrew turned around to watch. “That her pa?”

“Yes.” Dar nodded. “That’s her mother, her sister Angie, and her brother Michael in back of them.” They watched as the camera showed the investigators and then a shot of Kerry’s brother on the stand, looking very ill at ease and embarrassed.

Then came a shot of a very familiar face. “Hey.” Dar smiled in reflex.

“Look. It’s Kerry and Mom.”

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“Darn if it ain’t.” Andrew chuckled.

Dar pulled her cell phone out and speed dialed a number. “Hey.”