“So let me guess: the business is in some kind of trouble, and you want me back so I can take the heat.”
“No, don’t be ridiculous. Times aren’t easy. But they never are, are they? The company needs your guidance and leadership.”
“And what does the board say?”
“They want you back, too. Especially Niles Raines.”
“Katherine, you’ve set me up as a complete loser in the press. News that I was coming back would start a selling frenzy.”
“I’m sure Rick can handle the press, spin the story into a positive. At least tell me you’ll think about it?”
“In what capacity would I come back?” Christy asked. “Special projects?”
“No. Of course not. It would be the same as before. You’d be number one; I’d be number two.”
“Wow. That’s big of you,” Christy said. Too big.
“That’s how much I want you back,” Katherine said urgently.
Christy looked at her watch. “Listen, I gotta go. Sorry. Not interested.” With that she shut the door in Katherine’s face and looked through the peephole to watch her leave. As soon as Katherine disappeared into the elevator, Christy leaned back against the door and started breathing again. If Katherine had stayed one more minute, Christy knew she might have been sucked into believing that she really cared. That girl was poison. Christy walked to the library to tell Michael that she had finally put her past behind her. Then she remembered he didn’t live there anymore.
Michael, we need to talk ASAP. I met with your ex-CFO today, Andy Chapman. He gave me an earful. Says Drummond Enterprises is in serious trouble. Provided documentation that you have pledged assets you don’t own to back up your credit lines. Says Drummond Enterprises is a house of cards. If any of the loans are called, the whole company will topple. If I put this in your biography or write an article about it for the Journal, it would be disastrous. But as a responsible reporter, how can I ignore it? Meet me for drinks at the Sherry Netherland, 6 p.m. It’s private there. Galit
An Uneasy Truce
Christy walked up the red-carpeted stairs of the Harvard Club carrying a garment bag. Dead white men stared down at her from portrait after portrait. She walked quietly upstairs to Michael’s door and stopped, listening for Galit’s voice. Only Michael was talking, most likely on a call. She could just make out a few words: Galit…mortgaged…renegotiate. Finally, when all was quiet, she knocked.
“Coming,” he said.
Michael opened the door and smiled.
Christy’s stomach did a flip. Logically, she knew she was furious with him. So why did her heart melt at the sight of him? Play it cool, she told herself. “Can I come in?”
Michael opened the door for her.
“I brought you some clothes,” she said. “I figured you were trying to make do with one suit.” Taking one look at his crumpled appearance, she knew she was right.
“Thanks,” Michael said. “It’s so great to see you.”
As he hung everything in the tiny closet, Christy looked around. The room was old, dank, and in need of renovation. There were two single beds, a color TV, a small desk and dresser, a green plaid chair with stuffing coming out, and water stains on the ceiling. “Why are you staying here?” She knew he could afford the presidential suite at the Plaza Athénée.
“This is where all Harvard men go when they separate from their wives.”
“Ah, I see. Tradition.”
“I guess,” he said. “It is pretty small, now that you mention it.”
“Yeah, it is. You’re not looking too good, Michael. Is anything wrong?”
Michael looked at Christy like she had two heads.
“Oh right. Us.”
“You look good, though,” he said. “I guess you’re managing.”
“Yep, I’m running again—six miles a day. I decided to train for the New York City Marathon. Plus, Jerome got me this amazing deal with the Olympic Foundation. I’m gonna help raise an endowment to support our athletes.”
“That’s exciting. Congratulations.” Michael looked devastated. He seemed to be barely functioning. She felt a moment of triumph.
“Not only that, they want me to start a mentoring program for new Olympians. You know, match past competitors and medal winners with young contenders coming down the pike. Isn’t that a good idea?”
“It sounds like a great project.”
“Oh, and Katherine asked me to come back to Baby G in the number-one position.”
Michael looked surprised. “Are you considering it?”
Christy would sooner become one of Brownie’s minions than go back to work with Katherine, but she wasn’t about to tell Michael that. “Depending on what happens with us, I may need a job.”
Michael cringed. “Just be careful. Don’t let her suck you in again, Christy. She’s already caused you a lifetime of pain.”
“Yes, there’s a lot of that going around.” She paused. “Are you coming to see Ali tonight?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry I haven’t been by yet. I’ve been looking for an apartment so I can get her out of your hair.”
“She’s not a bother, really. But you need to spend some time with her. Last night, she asked me if I’d help her get birth-control pills.”
“What? I hope you told her no.” Michael stood and began pacing on the tiny patch of carpet between the end of the bed and the bathroom door.
“No, I told her she should talk to you. If she’s sexually active, you’d better get her on birth control.”
“But she’s only sixteen,” Michael said, still pacing. “I can’t condone that kind of behavior.”
“I suppose you can lock her in her room until she’s twenty-one. Or you can talk to her. Maybe you can help her see that she’s not ready to have sex.”
“Right. That’s what I’ll do. I’ll stop by tonight. Girls need to have involved fathers. Ali has to know she can depend on me.”
“And what about Renata? You don’t think she depends on you? You don’t think
