“A detective?”
“Yeah. To find out who’s leaking misinformation to the press. If it’s someone internal, they need to be fired,” Christy said.
“How can it be anyone internal? Everyone worships you. Oh, except…what about Chris Kelly? He went ballistic when you fired him.”
“The guy was stealing.”
“If he’d steal, he’d lie to the press,” Katherine said.
“True,” Christy mused. “What did the board say?”
Maria brought in a cart of coffee, orange juice, pastries, and fruit. She served and then discreetly disappeared.
“They’re a hundred percent behind you. They’d never recommend that Bain supervise you. It’s ludicrous.”
“Rick Slotnik left me a message. He wants to do damage control. There’s a reporter from Wall Street Week who’s been itching to write an article on me and he’s recommending I do it. What do you think?” Christy asked.
“Sounds like a good idea. Is the reporter friendly? Will the story be positive?”
“Rick thinks so. Michael says I should do it, but I’m not sure.”
“What’s your hesitation?”
“His angle is personal. You know, what makes Christy Hayes tick. From my midwestern roots to the Olympics to Baby G to Prince Charming.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“There’s stuff I’d rather not publicize. My schooling, or lack thereof. My love life before Michael. Do you want a cinnamon bun? Some coffee?”
“Thanks. I’ll pour it myself.” Katherine made herself a cup, then took half a bun. She was always dieting. “You know,” she said chewing daintily, “they can spin the education into a positive. Seriously, you could be an inspiration to kids who don’t love academics. You know, don’t worry if you struggle in school. You can still start a company and become fabulously successful. It makes great copy. And who’s to criticize your love life? You weren’t married,” Katherine said.
“Katherine”—Christy lowered her voice even though she was in her own house—“remember last year when I was photographed with Fran Rich, that investment banker from Farrar? I slept with him.”
“Fran Rich?”
“Yeah. I thought he was separated from his wife at the time, but he wasn’t.”
“And you didn’t tell me? How could you keep something like this a secret from moi?” Katherine giggled. “Was that why you threw wine in his face?”
“How’d you guess? I wasn’t proud of myself, so I didn’t talk about it. Never told Michael, either. You don’t think the reporter could find out?”
“Not unless you or Fran admit it. And there’s no danger of that.” Katherine thought for a moment. “Christy, I think Rick’s right. Let them do the profile. It’ll repair your image and give shareholders more confidence. The risk is minimal. Just have Rick manage the story closely.”
Christy sighed as she took the other half of Katherine’s cinnamon bun. “Did you ever think, when we started our tiny company, we’d have to deal with crap like this? It used to be so much fun, didn’t it?”
“Christy, you’re totally romanticizing the start-up. Remember that tiny office? No money. No publicity. We shared a computer. Schlepping around the country, begging investors to fund us. Remember when we tried to make that Times reporter think we were so cost-conscious that we took the subway everywhere?” Katherine laughed.
“Yeah, we took him with us to the agency and got on the wrong train. I seem to recall that we ended up in the Bronx instead of Union Square. So embarrassing.”
“And he had to mention it in his article, commandeered by the bimbos. The first of many mean-spirited pieces,” Katherine pointed out.
“Not as mean as this one,” Christy said.
“It’ll be okay,” Katherine said. “Why don’t you invite the executive committee for lunch? Let Rick present his recommendations. Make them comfortable with the way you’re handling this. Now that I’m on the committee, I’ll be there. You’ll be in a room full of supporters.”
“You’re right, as always. It’s a plan,” Christy said, hugging her friend. “How’s Alex doing? She okay?”
“She’s great. Did I tell you we moved her to Colby?” Katherine said. “The boys at Dalton were too much of a distraction. She was caught skipping school with a senior last April. But now that she’s at Colby, her grades are better and she’s more confident. They just elected her to student council, and it’s only her first year. The teenage years are tough. Let’s hope I survive them,” Katherine said.
“I don’t envy you.”
“I just got her one of those Nextel phones with the satellite tracking device, the kind we have at the office.”
“Our phones have tracking devices?” Christy asked, pouring herself another cup of coffee.
“You didn’t know? Yeah, they connect to a satellite. You just go to their website, type in the number, and a map comes up showing the phone’s location. It’s a safety thing so you can find a child if she’s in trouble. But I use it every day to make sure Alex isn’t lying to me about where she’s going and what she’s doing.”
“Smart,” Christy said. “And if she gets kidnapped, that’ll just be a bonus.”
“Exactly.”
A Morning Canoodle
Christy cuddled against Michael’s back, engaged in a bit of postcoital neck nibbling. There was nothing she enjoyed more than making love with Michael. Morning, noon, night—it didn’t matter. He made her feel safe and adored.
“That tickles,” he laughed.
“Mmm-hmm,” she teased. “Should I stop?”
“No, that’s okay,” he said, as Christy took a playful bite.
“Do you really have to go today?” Christy whispered into his ear. She had been single for so many years. Now that she had Michael, she hated it when he left.
“I do, but I wish I didn’t. I’d rather stay here with you.”
“Call your office and tell them you’re laid up.”
“You are so hilarious,” he said, turning to his wife. “You should think about doing stand-up.”
Christy punched him in the arm playfully. Then she settled into his shoulder, pulling the covers up. The bed was warm from the heat of their bodies and she was as relaxed as a cat napping in the sun.
“I hate it when you go,” she said with a sigh.
“Me, too. But
