“I’ll take it from here,” Christy told Michael.
“You sure? You don’t want me for moral support?”
I do! More than anything in the whole wide world. Don’t make me face this mean lady alone, Christy thought. “No, this is something I have to do.” She knew she’d appear weak if she confronted Galit with Michael at her side. Tapping the reporter on the shoulder, Christy interrupted Galit’s diatribe on the so-called Leftist conspiracy to control the media.
“Can I help you?” Galit said. She had no clue who Christy was, at least that’s the way it seemed.
“I’m Christy Hayes. You published an article about me today.”
The tycoons surrounding Galit shifted uncomfortably and made excuses about why they had to leave.
“Oh, right. I didn’t realize you were here.”
“If you’d checked with my office, they would have told you. The thing is, your article’s full of lies. My board didn’t issue an ultimatum.”
“That’s not what I heard,” Galit said.
“You heard wrong,” Christy countered.
“I stand behind my story.”
“How can you? It’s not true.”
“I beg to differ,” Galit said. “Maybe I know something you don’t.”
Christy was worried but kept her face neutral. “You think you know more about what’s happening at Baby G than I do?”
Galit lowered her voice. “Christy, I can’t reveal my source. But if I were you, I’d get my ass back to my office to protect what’s mine. That’s all I’m going to say. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Galit executed a perfect pivot on a pointy croc-leather boot and walked away, leaving Christy standing alone with her mouth agape.
As if by magic, Michael materialized at his wife’s side. “Honey, close your mouth. You look shell-shocked. C’mon, let’s go back to the hotel.”
Brownie approached the couple just as they left the conference center. She flashed her stricken expression, the one she reserved for funerals. “Christy, how are you? Fran showed me the article in the Journal. How very terrible for you.”
“We’re kind of in a hurry, Brownie,” Michael said. Christy just smiled like she had taken one too many Valiums.
“Don’t let the press rattle you. You’ve done really well for a girl who didn’t go to grad school,” Brownie added, patting Christy’s hand.
Blowing past Brownie and avoiding eye contact with everyone else, they walked back to the hotel in silence. As soon as they returned to their room, Christy collected herself. “Honey, I have to go back to the States.”
“Absolutely. I’ll call for the jet and we’ll leave as soon as we pack,” Michael offered.
“Michael, you don’t have to go.”
“Of course I do. First of all, I have no interest in being at Davos without you. And second, you may need me when you get back. I want to be there for you.”
“Thanks,” Christy said, feeling a sense of relief she had never experienced. For the first time in her life, she had someone to lean on. So much for Xena, the Corporate Warrior.
Katherine Confidential
Christy rifled through her papers as she waited for Katherine. Where could she be? Christy wondered. It had been well after midnight when she and Michael landed at Teterboro, the city’s private airport. Katherine left a voice mail saying she’d be over first thing. Christy didn’t want to do anything without talking to her. She must have dropped Alexandra at school, Christy thought. Katherine had recently broken up with her second husband, Alex’s father, and he used to make the morning school run. Now that Christy was married, she couldn’t imagine how Katherine managed to be a loving single mother to Alex, a formidable divorce opponent to Malcolm, and a good COO to Baby G, all at the same time. It was a lot to juggle.
After all these years, Katherine was still the person Christy turned to for advice about running Baby G. There was so much about the tough world of New York business that Christy had yet to master. But it came naturally to Katherine, who had the quiet confidence born into eastern girls whose ancestors hark back to the Mayflower. The only daughter of George Winslow, an older, wealthy financier and Claire Garcia, a former showgirl turned scion of horsey high society, Katherine grew up with multiple homes, each with an important portrait of Claire Garcia Winslow displayed at the top of a grand stairway. Pale-skinned and green-eyed, with her carrot-colored hair brushed straight back behind a black velvet headband, Katherine went to Miss Porter’s School, became a debutante and famous party girl, and then confounded everyone by applying to Harvard Business School.
When Christy started Baby G, Katherine was one of six people who answered an ad for CFO. The two became best friends immediately. Through the years, Christy and Katherine had worked as a team to build the company. In recognition of her contribution, Christy named her COO. The board was against it because they didn’t think the company needed anyone in that position. But Christy fought hard and won the promotion for her.
Maria escorted Katherine into the library. Christy hadn’t even heard the doorbell. “I’ll bring breakfast right away,” Maria said.
“How are you?” Katherine asked, hugging her. “I’ve been so worried about you. What a nightmare.”
“I’m okay. Upset. Confused. Pissed off. Did you have any luck finding out where the Journal got their story?”
“I called Galit in Davos, but she wouldn’t disclose her source.”
“Did you tell her it wasn’t true?”
“Of course. Then I went to her editor on behalf of the board. The guy offered to print a retraction, but Slotnik recommended against it. He said it would just bring the story out again and it’s better to let it die quietly.” Rick Slotnik was the VP of public relations for Baby G. He had years of experience and both women trusted him implicitly.
“It makes me so mad. Who would tell such a lie?” Christy said. “Do
