Irresistible Forces (11 page)

She had hired a limousine to pick them up, and she rode with them to their hotel. They were staying at the Regency, and after that, she had the car drop her off at her apartment. She knew Steve wouldn't be home that night, but it felt good to be home anyway, and have some time to herself before they left for Europe.

On Tuesday their presentations went extremely well. They were already oversubscribed at the end of the first day, and investors were clamoring for more stock than she was going to be able to give them. It was exactly the situation they had wanted. But even then, Charlie Macintosh didn't have the grace to back down, and he stormed off after the last presentation to go back to the hotel, and if only to calm him down, Meredith suggested that she and Cal have dinner.

She took Callan to “21,” and they talked for a long time about the serious problem that the CFO presented for him.

“You don't need his support, Cal, but it would certainly be nice to have it,” she said sensibly.

“I swear, if he goes crazy on me in Europe, and alienates anyone, I'm going to knock him out cold right in the middle of his presentation.”

“That would certainly impress our investors,” she said, laughing, because she knew from dealing with Cal that he wasn't likely to do it, but he was understandably furious at the CFO who was continuing to give him an enormous headache. But the success of the IPO far outweighed the aggravation of his personnel woes, and he was still in pretty good spirits.

“How would you handle him in my place?” Cal asked as they finished dinner. It was all they had talked about all evening. He respected her advice, her cool head, and her sensible decisions, and she seemed to think about it for a minute before speaking.

“I guess I'd probably have to kill him. Poison him maybe. He eats a lot of sweets, mints mostly, I think. It would probably be pretty easy to slip a little cyanide tablet in his candy.” She had said it so seriously that for a minute Cal thought she meant it, and then he laughed at what she said. She had a way of adding a little levity at the right moment.

“All right, I guess I'll calm down about it until we get back from Europe.”

“I don't think you have any other choice. You can deal with the whole situation once you get back to California. ‘‘

“I think I'm going to have to.”

“Meanwhile, you should be celebrating. You took New York by storm. I couldn't have asked for anything better.”

“Neither could I.” Callan Dow looked extremely pleased, and in light of that, his problems with the CFO seemed to fade momentarily into the distance. They were meeting with more private investors the next day, and that night, they were leaving for Europe.

“Will you get a chance to see your husband before you leave?” Cal asked, looking concerned. He was beginning to realize how much of her time he was taking up, and how dependent he was becoming on her. And he felt a little guilty.

“No. I'll be in a meeting downtown with you by the time he gets off duty. I might see him when I go home to pick up my bag on the way to the airport, unless he gets called back to the hospital before that.”

“Hell of a life you lead, my friend. I don't know how you manage to stay married.”

“We love each other,” she said simply, and then decided to tweak him a little bit, “in spite of the fact that I don't want his children.”

“You're beginning to make me think I should review my theories on that one. I'm beginning to think you do have the perfect marriage. Maybe because you don't have children. What do I know?”

“What do any of us know about relationships? Sometimes I think it's all blind luck, or luck of the draw or something. Who could have guessed fourteen years ago that Steven and I would be this crazy about each other, or lead a life where we practically never see each other? When we got married, he thought he wanted a rural family practice in Vermont, and I was thinking about going to law school. And the next thing I knew, he fell in love with the trauma unit and said he had to live in New York, and I fell in love with Wall Street. Things never work out exactly the way you expect them to. Maybe it's better like that, sometimes at least.” Callan's life hadn't worked out the way he expected either. She wondered sometimes if anyone's did. “I'd probably have been bored to death in Vermont, and we might have broken up years ago. I don't know why, but this works for us.”

“You're damn lucky, Merrie.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said softly. “One of these days you'll have to meet him.”

“Not professionally, I hope. Maybe we could have dinner when we get back from Europe.”

“He'd love that. He's familiar with what you do. Actually, he was the first one to tell me what your products do, and how good they are.”

“Obviously, a great guy,” he said with a smile as he paid the check, and they left the restaurant, and then walked slowly back to his hotel. After she dropped him off, she took a cab back to her apartment.

And the next morning, they were back downtown, meeting with investors, and making their pitch to them. After that, they had lunch with some of her partners, and yet another group of investors, and were finally finished for the day. When the partners congratulated him on the success of his venture, he tried to give Meredith as much credit for the IPO as he could, but they were more interested in talking to him, than in giving Meredith accolades. As far as they were concerned, she had only done what was expected of her, and there was no reason to celebrate her for it. It annoyed Cal to see the way they handled it, and he mentioned it to her in the car on the way back to the hotel to pick up his bags, en route to the airport.

“They sure don't throw you a lot of roses,” he said, looking disgruntled for her.

“They would have done the same things I did. They know that. And as far as they're concerned, Paul Black brought you in as a client. I didn't.”

“That's stretching it a bit, isn't it? He made the initial contact, but you've done everything since then.”

“That's just the nature of the business. There are no heroes among investment bankers.”

“And not much gratitude either.”

“I don't expect that. I'll make plenty of money on this deal. We all will.”

“It's not just about money, Merrie, and you know that. You can't tell me that's the only reason why you do this. You do it because you believe in the companies you take public for them, and you love what you're doing.” He had more respect for her than that, and it bothered him that they didn't.

“That's all true. But there isn't a lot of romance in this business. They figure I'll make plenty on it, and so will they. They don't feel they need to throw me a lot of kisses.”

“I think they're harder on you, and expect more, because you're a woman. It's almost as if you have to prove something to them, that you're as good or as smart or as capable as a man, and there's something wrong with that. You're a hell of a lot smarter than most of them, Paul Black certainly. He's nothing but an old windbag with good social connections. All he is is a rainmaker.” She laughed at his description.

“Thank you for noticing, on both counts. But there are plenty of those in this business.”

“And not enough like you. I've had a great time working with you.” And more than that, he had really come to like her, and admire what she stood for. She was honorable and decent and loyal and as far as he was concerned, brilliant. And a hell of a nice person. He was also impressed that she spoke so highly of her husband.

“I've had a great time working with you too. And that's a good thing, Cal, because you're stuck with me for another week.” She laughed, and a few minutes later, they picked up Cal's bags and Charlie McIntosh at the hotel, and then went on to her apartment. Her bags were standing in the hall, and she ran upstairs alone to get them, and was back in less than five minutes. Steve had left her a note. He had gone back to the hospital, for a meeting, and was sorry that he'd missed her. She jotted down a few words at the bottom of the note, mostly just to tell him that she was sorry that she had missed him too, and that she loved him.

“Did you see Steve?” Cal asked with a look of concern as she came downstairs. He was beginning to worry about her, almost like a little sister.

“No, he had to go back to the hospital for a meeting. It's okay. I didn't really expect to see him.” She seemed disappointed but not surprised by it. It was the nature of the life they led, and she was used to it, far more than Cal was.

“That's too bad. I'll bet he was disappointed.”

“I'll see him in a week,” she smiled. “I might even take some time off when we get back. We might go to Vermont for a few days, if he can get away. If not, maybe we'll take a long weekend somewhere.”

“It's too bad he couldn't meet us in London for the weekend.”

“I tried to get him to come to Paris,” she smiled, “but he's covering for the head of the trauma unit next week, who has to go to Dallas.”

“You two lead a disgusting life. I don't know how you stand it. Well, maybe we can go to the theater this weekend in London. Or Annabel's. Do you like to dance?” he asked, and Charlie McIntosh glanced out the window, looking disgusted. Mixing business with pleasure, for Cal at least, clearly did not meet with Charlie's approval, and most of all not with Merrie.

“I love to dance,” she said, smiling, as much touched by the invitation, as she was amused by Charlie's obvious disapproval. It entertained her to shock him. “And I love the theater.”

“Maybe we can do both then.” He felt he owed her some fun for all her trouble. And they were both going to be alone in London, except for Charlie.

The three of them went over some papers together when they got to the airport, and by the time they boarded the plane to Edinburgh, they were all tired. The plane was making a stop on the way, in London. But as soon as they had eaten, Charlie and Cal turned off their lights and settled down under their blankets. Cal and Meredith were seated side by side, and Charlie was sitting right behind them. But as Cal put his seat back as far as he could, Meredith reached down for her briefcase.

“Merrie,” he asked softly in the darkened plane, “what are you doing?”

“I thought I'd do some reading.”

“Stop that!” he ordered her gently. “You need to get some sleep too. I order you to turn your light off.”

“You ‘order’ me?” She looked amused. “That's a novelty.”

“Maybe it's time someone said that to you more often. Come on, give it up for tonight. Turn your light off.” She hesitated for a moment, and then decided that maybe he was right, and her work could wait till morning. And quietly, she reached up and turned her light off. “Good girl. It'll still be there in the morning.” His tone was kind and fatherly, and she could suddenly imagine how he was with his children. She knew instinctively that he was a good father.

“That's what I'm always afraid of,” she said gently, “that it'll all still be there in the morning. I keep hoping the work fairy will show up in the middle of the night and do it for me.”

“You're the work fairy, Merrie. But even fairies need to rest sometimes.” It made him more determined than ever to give her some fun in London. She deserved it. She had done more for him than anyone had in a long time, maybe ever.

She moved her seat back like his, put a pillow behind her head and pulled up her blanket, and lay there, quietly beside him.

“Can you sleep on planes?” he asked, whispering. They were like two kids at a slumber party.

“Sometimes. Depends on how much work I have in my briefcase,” she said, smiling at him.

“Pretend you left it in New York. Pretend you're going on vacation.” She smiled at the game, and whispered back at him.

“Where would I go on vacation?”

“How about the South of France? … Saint-Tropez … how does that sound?” He was still whispering and she was smiling.

“That sounds very good. I like it.”

“Then close your eyes and think of Saint-Tropez,” he whispered gently.

“Is that an order too?” she whispered back again.

“Yes … now, be quiet, and just think about it.” And much to her surprise, she did. She lay there with her eyes closed, envisioning the South of France, the little port, the narrow winding streets, the Mediterranean, and the flower market. And the next time he looked at her, she was sound asleep, and he gently pulled up her blanket and tucked it around her.

Chapter 7

T
HE PLANE STOPPED
in London, and then flew on to Edinburgh, and Meredith was surprised that she slept for most of the flight. It was morning in Scotland when they arrived, and they went directly to the location where they were to make their presentation to the officers of several of the Scottish trusts. It was part of the standard ritual of the due diligence tour, and one of the routines Meredith knew well.

As it had for nearly two weeks now, the tour was continuing to go very well, and Callan was ecstatic when they got a fax from her office in New York, telling them that the order book was oversubscribed ten to one now, which meant that they had ten times more demand for stock than they needed.

By evening they were ready to move on, and they flew back to London that night. And by the time they got to Claridge's, even the indefatigable Callan looked exhausted. It had been a long day, after flying all night before they arrived. And the next morning, they had to be fresh to make their presentation again in London. Callan was pleased with everything, the tour was going extremely well, better than he had ever dreamed, and he had Meredith to thank for it.

“What are you up to tonight, Meredith?” he asked as they checked in, and a liveried desk clerk showed them to their rooms. Charlie McIntosh was on another floor, but their rooms were side by side.

“What am I up to?” she asked. “Sleep, I hope. I don't know about you, but I'm beat. I thought I'd go to bed so I don't screw things up for you tomorrow.”

“There's no risk of that. Do you want to go out for something to eat?” Even as tired as she knew he had to be, he wanted to go out. Callan Dow liked to work hard all day, and then go out to play at night.

“Not tonight, thanks. I'm going to order room service, and then hit the sack.”

“Party pooper. What about dinner at Harry's Bar, and then Annabel's tomorrow night?”

“Where do you get your energy, Cal? Don't you ever get tired?”

“Look who's talking. You never stop,” he said admiringly.

“I think I just have,” she said, looking tired. The jet lag and the long day and long flight had finally caught up with her, and she could hardly keep her eyes open as the porter set down her briefcase and her bag, and then let Cal into his room. Hers was handsomely done in Art Deco style. His was all done in pale blue taffeta with pastel chintz covered in flowers. And they both looked like they'd been recently redone. But Meredith would have been happy to sleep in a haystack that night, and she wanted to be fresh for the next day. They were doing their first presentation at eight
A.M.
But she didn't feel as pressured here as she had in New York. The European market was of slightly less interest to them. Traditionally, they tried to keep the size of the European investments down. It was important to have them participate for the long haul, but they preferred to keep the bulk of hot IPOs for U.S.-based investors, who would spin the stock more often, generating more commissions.

Cal wandered back into her room after they had brought him his bags. He tried to convince her to go out again, but she said she was in for the night. And a little while later, she heard his door open and close, and knew he had gone out. She was in bed and sound asleep by nine o'clock. And she was bright and cheery the next day when they met for breakfast.

“What did you do last night?” she asked him over scones and coffee in the dining room. His CFO hadn't joined them yet.

“I caught up with some old friends. I know a lot of people here, some of them through my ex-wife.”

“I was dead to the world by nine.” She smiled at him.

“We'll do better than that tonight,” he smiled, as Charlie McIntosh arrived at their table. He was in a fairly decent mood for once, and the three of them chatted amiably as Charlie ordered sausages and eggs. And by eight o'clock they were making their now familiar presentation. It was a huge hit, just as all the others had been.

They met with private investors at noon, and at one o'clock made their presentation again over lunch. And by four o'clock, all three of them were back at the hotel. Charlie had plans to spend the weekend in France with friends, and they were to meet up again in Geneva on Sunday night. In an uncharacteristically generous gesture, Charlie wished them a nice weekend before he left, and Meredith allowed herself to hope that it meant he was mellowing a little.

“Ready for a night on the town?” Cal asked as he walked her back to her room at five. They had reservations at Harry's Bar at eight o'clock, and were still planning to go to Annabel's to dance after dinner.

“Are you sure you don't mind wasting time with me?” Meredith asked comfortably. “You can probably have a lot more fun with a real date,” she said honestly, they were like brother and sister by now, and they both seemed to enjoy it.

“I'd rather have dinner with a good friend anytime,” he smiled, as they stood in the hall and chatted a little bit about their afternoon. The presentations had gone even better than expected.

“I thought Charlie did better here too,” Meredith said charitably. Even at his warmest, Charlie McIntosh was no ball of fire. But at least he didn't seem as truculent as he had in Los Angeles and New York. Cal said he had noticed it too. “It's a shame it took him so long to warm up.” Callan didn't comment on it, and after a few more minutes, they went back to their respective rooms. He said he'd come by to pick her up at a quarter to eight, which gave her plenty of time to unwind, relax, and take a bath. And as soon as she slipped into it, the phone rang in her room.

She was wrapped in a towel and had wet hair when she answered it, and she smiled the moment she heard the voice on the other end. It was Steve.

“How's it going, sweetheart?” He sounded in good spirits, it was early Friday afternoon for him.

“Everything is great,” she answered with a broad smile, pulling the towel closer around her in the air-conditioned room. “We're almost through, and we're oversubscribed ten to one. It's a sure green shoe on this one.” He knew that meant they'd be adding five to ten percent more shares. After a dozen years of her Wall Street career, the jargon was familiar to him. “Callan is really pleased.”

“Is his CFO still being a pain in the ass?” he asked with interest.

“He's been a little better here. He actually smiled today, he left for the weekend with some friends in France. It's kind of nice to get him off our necks.” Most of the time he was like having a crabby grandfather around. But Steve didn't sound pleased to hear it.

“Does that mean you and Dow are alone?”

“More or less. Along with about eight million people in London, I think it's pretty safe.” She was amused by his concern.

“You know what I mean. He's not coming on to you, is he, Merrie?”

“Of course not. He's smarter than that. And by now, we're good friends. After these due diligence tours, you either end up best friends for life, or you never want to lay eyes on each other again. He's been a good sport, and I think he'll stay a good friend. I hope one of these days you'll meet him.”

“All right. … I don't know why, but I don't trust him. I'd much rather be spending the weekend in London with you myself.”

“Then come,” she teased. “You can still meet me in Paris next week.”

“Very funny. You know I'm stuck here. Just get your ass back here as fast as you can. What are you doing this weekend?”

“Just hanging around. I thought I'd do some shopping tomorrow, and Cal and I are going to have dinner tonight at Harry's Bar.” Given what he had just said, she didn't tell him they were going dancing at Annabel's afterward. She knew there was nothing to it, but there was no point upsetting Steve. It was all harmless, and Cal was a perfect gentleman, just as she had said he would be.

“If he gets drunk, just take a cab home by yourself. Don't take a chance.”

“Sweetheart, stop worrying. No one is going to get drunk. We're going to have dinner, and go home. That's all. It's better than room service, but it's no big deal.”

“All right,” he said, sounding mollified, but still slightly unsure. The guy was too young, too successful, too good looking, from everything he'd read and heard. He couldn't imagine any man being able to resist his wife. But even if he was suspicious of Callan, he trusted her completely.

“What about you? What are you up to tonight?” she asked him.

“Sleep. I'm back on call tomorrow. But I've got nothing else to do this weekend anyway. I'm off next weekend at least. I traded it so I could be with you.”

“Why don't we go away somewhere?” She sounded happy at the prospect.

“We'll see.”

They hung up a few minutes later, and she went back to her bath, which was cold by then. She ran some more hot water into it, and sat smiling in the bathtub, thinking of him. It seemed cute to her that he was still jealous after all these years. He had no reason to be, and he knew it. She had never even remotely for a single instant thought of being unfaithful to him. She was still very much in love with Steve, just as he was with her.

When Callan picked her up shortly before eight, she was wearing a short black cocktail dress, high-heeled evening sandals, and a string of pearls. She was wearing makeup and her hair shone like gold. She looked very striking and very pretty, and Cal took a step backward to look at her and seemed impressed. She was always fairly conservatively dressed when she worked, and was given to wearing navy or black suits. She usually looked very much the part of a banker, but tonight she looked young and sexy, and the back of the little black cocktail dress was fairly bare.

“Wow! If I may say so, Mrs. Whitman, you're a knockout. Maybe you should have been wearing that when you made your speech on the tour. If you had, we'd be oversold a hundred to one.”

“Thank you, Callan,” she said, blushing slightly. It was fun getting dressed up for a change, and going out with him.

And when they got to Harry's, all the trendy in-crowd, well-known names and faces, and aristocrats were there. It was still one of the most exclusive restaurants in London, and because it was a club, it looked more like a dinner party in someone's house, than a public place.

They had drinks at the bar, and when they were taken to their table, Meredith recognized the people at the tables on either side. One was a group of important international bankers, some English, some French, one Saudi, and two from Bahrain. And at the table on their right were two movie stars and a director and a well-known Italian prince. It was a star-studded crowd, and it was fun being there with him.

And for once, they didn't talk about business. They were just two people out for dinner on a Friday night. Except for the fact that she was married and he was a client, it was almost like a date, but better in some ways. Neither of them had to worry about the outcome, or the impression they were making, the intentions or agendas of the other, they were just friends enjoying a fun evening.

“Steve must be pretty open-minded,” Callan commented as the waiter poured them each a glass of Chateau d'Yquem with their dessert. It was a sweet sauterne that Meredith had always loved, and it tasted like liquid gold as she sipped it.

‘‘ What makes you say that?’’

“I'm not sure I'd have wanted my wife going out to dinner and dancing, when I was married. I'm not sure I ever trusted Charlotte that much,” and they both knew he hadn't been wrong to distrust her.

“Steve knows he has nothing to worry about. I'm a sure thing,” she said with a smile, as she noticed a very stylish-looking dark-haired woman walk into the restaurant in a red dress. Several people seemed to know who she was, and she was with a very attractive older man. Meredith thought she looked familiar, but she couldn't figure out who she was, and finally, watching her chat and laugh from table to table, Meredith asked Cal if he recognized her. And he looked at her for a long time. “Is she an actress?” She was too old to be a model, but not by very much. And she could have been, when she was younger.

“No, she's an attorney,” he said with a last glance, and then turned around to face Meredith again with a somewhat pinched expression.

“Do you know her? I've seen her somewhere, but I can't place the face.”

“You've seen her in
W
, and assorted magazines. She's very social, and fairly well known by association, most of her clients are very important. She moves in a very jet-set crowd,” he said simply.

“Who is she?” Meredith looked puzzled, and Cal looked unconcerned, but there was suddenly something hard about his eyes as he answered.

“That's my ex-wife,” he said, looking right across the table into Meredith's eyes. He did not look pleased about it.

“I'm sorry,” she said. She could see that it was a reminder he didn't need. And it was unfortunate that she'd been there.

“Don't be. We're on good terms now. I see her whenever she comes to visit the kids.” But Meredith could sense easily that no matter how he covered it, the encounter was painful for him. She wondered if they were going to say hello to each other, but as the thought crossed her mind, the woman in red was suddenly standing at their table, and holding a hand out to Cal with a dazzling smile, which glittered almost as brilliantly as the diamonds on her ears and fingers. “Hello, Charlotte,” he said simply, “how are you?”

“Fine. What are you doing in this part of the world?” She glanced at Meredith in her simple black dress and string of pearls, and the elegant young investment banker was instantly dismissed as unimportant.

“I'm here on business. And this is Meredith Whitman,” he introduced her politely, and a minute later Charlotte moved on and joined her friends at a table in the rear, for a private party. It struck Meredith after she left that she had never bothered to inquire about their children. She said something about it to Callan, and he shrugged and looked at Meredith with a wry smile. “I told you, Meredith, children aren't her thing. She likes glamour and the jet set, and business, and glitz. All that interests her are the big stars she represents. She's very happy here.” Meredith wondered how much it upset him to see her, but didn't press him about it.