Authors: Laura Van Wormer
Alexandra looked at her for a long moment. And then she looked down, playing with her spoon. She started to speak and then stopped. Twice.
“It’s okay,” Lisa said.
Alexandra closed her eyes then, fighting tears. She covered her face with her hand.
“There’s somebody else, isn’t there?” Lisa said softly.
Alexandra nodded. Lisa watched her for a moment. “And you’ve fallen in love.”
Again Alexandra nodded. Her hand was shaking.
“It’s okay,” Lisa said, reaching across the table to touch the top of her head.
Alexandra lowered her hand to the table, eyes full of tears. “But it’s not okay, Lisa,” she said. “Because it’s a woman.” She shut her eyes and dropped her face into her hand again. “And I’m so in love with her I don’t know what to do.”
“Look, Alexandra,” Lisa was saying, waving the waiter away again, “whoever this woman is, you have to be honest with her. You have to lay your cards on the table and say, ‘Hey, I may be crazy, but this is how I feel, I’ve only got one life to life, and I have to try and see if somehow this can work.’ And then, whatever happens, at least you’ll know, one way or the other, and then you can get on with your life.”
Alexandra sighed. “But I know she thinks—”
“You’re not psychic, Alexandra,” Lisa said. “I know you think you are, but you’re not—and you’re going to have to sit down with this woman and find out exactly how she feels.”
“But if—”
“And if it doesn’t work out,” Lisa said, interrupting her, “then you go ahead and get married with a clear conscience.”
“With a clear conscience?” Alexandra said, verging on tears.
“She’ll be the one that got away, that’s all,” Lisa said. “Listen, Alexandra, how many women do you think marry their first choice anyway? Man or woman, what difference does it make? You fall in love with whoever you fall in love with.”
“But Lisa—”
“But Lisa nothing,” she said. “You can’t just let her slip away without saying a word, Alexandra. You didn’t know she was going to get divorced—you didn’t know that she was going to become available. And now you’ve got the chance to find out if it could work.”
“Oh, but I don’t know, I just don’t know,” Alexandra said, shaking her head. “This is so crazy. Because, Lisa, you don’t know all of it—the circumstances—and you really don’t understand the kind of responsibility I have, the kind of commitment I’ve made, and to how many people I’ve made that commitment—”
“Excuse me,” the manager said.
“Oh, just double the bill and leave us alone!” Lisa said.
The manager looked at her, blinked a couple of times and then turned to Alexandra. “Excuse me, Ms. Waring, but the call from New York you were expecting just came in.”
Alexandra jumped up from the table and followed the manager back to his office, where he showed her the telephone and left, closing the door behind him.
“Hello?” she said.
“Alexandra?”
“Hi, Cassy,” she said. “Boy, is it great to hear the sound of your voice. How did it go?”
“Sweetheart, listen,” Cassy said, “I’ve got some rather shocking news—but don’t worry, everything’s fine in terms of DBS News. The board’s behind us a hundred percent, and behind you a thousand percent.”
“What about Jessica?” Alexandra said quickly.
“Oh, she’s fine too,” Cassy said. “They’re fully behind her.”
“Great,” Alexandra said, “but what’s the other?”
“Okay, here it is, officially,” Cassy said. “Jackson’s been voted out as chairman of Darenbrook Communications and Langley’s been voted in, effective immediately. I’m president of DBS, and it is unclear whether Jackson will have any executive role at Darenbrook Communications in the future.”
“My God,” Alexandra murmured, “what happened?”
“A family quarrel, to say the least,” Cassy said. “I’ve got to go in to see Langley now, but I wanted to tell you something else before Jackson gets a hold of you.”
“What?” Alexandra said.
“And please understand the position I’m in,” Cassy said, sounding tired and upset, “and why it’s impossible for me to advise you about what comes next—about what you should or should not do.”
“What comes—”
“Just listen to me for a second,” Cassy said. “Because it’s very important to me that you understand what my immediate responsibilities are and in whose interests I have to act, regardless of where my personal loyalties lie. Do you understand?”
“Of course,” Alexandra said. “You have to protect DBS. Cassy, I’ve got a good idea of what you’re worried about and—”
“Just listen to me, please, Alexandra. It’s been a long day and night here and I’m—”
“I’m sorry, go ahead,” Alexandra said.
“Okay.” Cassy sighed. “As soon as the board fired Jackson, that automatically activated some clauses in your contract.”
“Yes, I know,” Alexandra said.
“And Jackson’s so furious with his family right now,” Cassy continued, “that he’s bound and determined to see that you exercise one of them.”
“To buyout my contract,” Alexandra guessed.
“To buyout all of DBS News,” Cassy said.
It seemed funny now that he had never considered the possibility that his father and brothers and sister might someday vote him out as chairman of Darenbrook Communications. It frankly never entered his head that there was anyone to replace him—Langley, yes, of course, but Langley was
not
a Darenbrook; he was only married to one—and the board’s unwritten rule had always been that, so long as Jackson made them money and kept a prestigious empire going, they would forgive him for anything.
But not this time.
Beau made out okay at the meeting. The family listened thoughtfully to what he had to say (that is, Daddy, Cordelia and Belinda did) about the help he was getting for his gambling problem, and the family listened thoughtfully (that is, Little El and the twins did) to the comptroller’s report about the ongoing fortune Beau had made for them with
Field Day
, and the issue of pressing charges against Beau for illegally using the magazine group as loan collateral was dropped. And after a lengthy discussion (during which Beau promised Cordelia that he would have a serious talk with her son, Zekey, who everyone knew had a gambling problem to—ever since he moved to Atlantic City), it was decided that the board would formally forgive Beau, hence all mention of the matter would be stricken from the company record, but that if he were ever to start gambling again he would be dismissed from the magazine group immediately.
It was at this point in the meeting that Cordelia started staring at Jackson. She was waiting, he knew, for his end of the explanation of how he could have personally intervened between Beau’s debts and a lien on the magazines to the tune of sixty million dollars, and then launch a new news network for another eighty million without using company assets as collateral on loans. But she had to wait through the whole presentation on DBS, all the wonderful news and numbers on “The Jessica Wright Show” and “DBS News America Tonight with Alexandra Waring,” before she got her answer.
The answer being, Jackson had pretty much sold the miniseries to Lord Gregory Hargrave and rerouted the money into DBS News, along with a few other stray funds from around the corporation.
Cordelia did not say anything during the presentation. She sat there, watching him, for the almost two hours it took to present the whole five-year plan for the network, at the conclusion of which the twins, Little El, Belinda and Beau actually started clapping. (And why not? They were looking at a virtual gold mine down the road.)
And then Cordelia stood up and cried, “You lied to me!” And then she banged both of her fists down on the table, saying it over and over again, “You lied, you lied, you lied!”
“Cordie, I didn’t lie—you asked me if we used the magazines as collateral—” Jackson started to say, a little unnerved by Cordelia’s outburst.
“You swore to me you didn’t use our company to pay for Beau’s gambling debts—you swore to me!”
“I didn’t!” Jackson said. “I just rearranged the financing in the network to launch DBS News and it’s a good thing I did. It’s going to make tons more money for us—we shouldn’t be in the dramatic programming business. We need to stick to news and information, keep in line with the rest of our companies.”
“But that isn’t a decision to make by yourself!” Big El said, banging the table with his hand. “This company is not your personal possession, boy. You’re sittin’ in that seat—”
“Because nobody else in this family does anything except Beau!” Jackson said. “And you just forgave him. Why don’t you forgive me? I was wrong, I admit it—but I’m going to make you a ton of money and win you a lot of acclaim to make it up to you.”
“He’s got a point,” Norbert said.
“But arrogance is not an illness!” Cordelia said, pounding the table again. She was starting to cry. “We can give Beau another chance because he’s trying to get some help. Well, you’ve got to do the same, Jackie—only there’s no therapy group for arrogance, for high-handedness—for contempt for one’s own family!”
“Cut it out, Cordie,” Jackson said. “I’ve never been—”
“But you
are
contemptuous,” Cordelia said, taking the handkerchief from Big El that he held out to her. “You’ve always been contemptuous of us. And this company is not yours, Jackie—it’s
ours
. The whole family’s. And we all know you’re better suited for business than we are—and every single one of us has been grateful for all you’ve done. But, God almighty, Jackie!” she said, hitting the table again. “The company’s assets are not yours to buy and sell as you please. Johnny Jim never would have done something like this. Daddy never would do something like this. And your mama, Alice May, would be the first to throw you out on your ear for such—”
“I think you’re being unfair,” Beau said.
“We’ve heard enough out of you, boy,” Big El shot across the table, pointing at Beau. “Your ass is still on the line around here.”
“Well, mine isn’t,” Belinda said, “and I think poor Jackie—”
“Oh, great,” Norbert said loudly, interrupting her. “First we hear from the fruit, now we have to listen to the fruitcake.”
Both Jackson and Langley were out of their chairs in a second. Jackson reached him first, because Beau caught Langley’s arm on the way and held him.
“You stupid fucking son of a bitch,” Jackson said, pulling Norbert backward in his chair by his tie, “take that back before I stuff your head up your goddam ass.”
“Jackie!” Cordelia said, jumping out of her seat.
“Bully!” Noreen said, hitting Jackson on the back with her fist.
“Take it back, Norbert,” Jackson said, pulling him farther back by his tie. Norbert’s face was turning purple.
“I didn’t mean it,” Norbert said.
Jackson released him immediately. “I didn’t think so,” he said quietly, walking back around to his end of the table. “Come on, Lang,” he said, patting him on the arm on his way.
Belinda had started to cry, and Langley changed places with Beau so he could put his arm around his wife.
Although Jackson realized that Cordelia and Big El must have planned this, in the event Jackson had been lying about how he had handled Beau’s debts and his own, with Belinda crying in Langley’s arms, Cordelia crying by herself at the end of the table, Norbert enraged at being nearly strangled, Noreen hating Jackson for attacking Norbert, Big El livid that an outsider (“A ferriner!”) owned a controlling interest in a Darenbrook Communications project, when Little El made the motion that Jackson step down as chairman and Langley be named in his place, it felt like spontaneous mutiny.
No one had been more surprised by this motion than Langley and Belinda—the former’s mouth dropped open, and the latter was shocked right out of her tears. “My Langley?” she said, looking at him.
“You can’t elect a chairman from outside the Darenbrook family unless you amend the bylaws,” Jackson told them.
And so Cordelia and Daddy and Norbert and Noreen and Little El carried through a vote to amend the bylaws so they could put Little El’s motion back on the floor.
“Seconded,” Norbert said in response to Little El’s motion.
“Okay,” Jackson said, “all those in favor of Jackson Darenbrook stepping down as chairman of the board and electing Langley Peterson as the new chairman of the board say aye.”
“Aye,” Cordelia, Daddy, Norbert, Noreen and Little El said.
“All those opposed—” Jackson said.
“Nay,” Belinda, Beau and Jackson said.
“Did you get that?” Jackson asked Ethel, who was sitting in the corner, weeping, taking notes.
She nodded, holding the handkerchief Jackson had given her over her mouth and nose as she tallied the vote. “Fifty—nine percent of the voting stock, aye, forty—one percent, nay,” she managed to say through the handkerchief and her sobs and sniffles.
“The motion is carried then,” Jackson said. He turned to Langley. “Mr. Peterson, will you accept the job of chairman of the board of Darenbrook Communications?”
Langley just looked at him.
Jackson nodded.
Langley swallowed. “Yes, yes, I will,” he said.
“Terrific, he has accepted,” Jackson said to Ethel. Then he stood up, smiled at Cordelia and said, “Fuck you, Cordelia,” his smile vanishing, pointing at Big El, Norbert, Noreen and Little El in succession, “and you, and you, and you, and you—fuck all of you,” and he walked out.
Belinda jumped up from her chair. “If you think you are coming to
mah
house,” she yelled down the table at Cordelia and her father, “then you are sadly mistaken. You can sleep in the streets for all I care!”
“Belinda, don’t be such an idiot,” Norbert said. “Your husband’s chairman now.”
“I know!” she wailed, running out of the room.
Jackson had the essentials of the deals done within three hours.
As soon as he walked out of that boardroom he had known exactly what he wanted to do. If his family was so upset about how he had launched DBS News, then he thought the least he could do was demonstrate to them how easily he could take it away from them. They didn’t
have
to make money or receive honors from his ideas and work. He’d buy DBS News with Belinda and Old Hardhead through Alexandra’s contract and take the foreign syndication of “The Jessica Wright Show” with it. He’d unhinge the whole goddam network and threaten to move it out of West End, abandoning the facilities, if they did not sell him “The Jessica Wright Show.” He’d also undo the Darenbrook Communications deal to buy the San Diego
Star
and put the financing together himself. He’d intervene on the proposed site for a new printing plant in Mississippi and steal that deal too. He’d build his own goddam company and let his family be damned!
Vote him out, would they?
Fine. Let them stagnate with one idea between them for the next million years.
Good old Alexandra! Jackson just smiled and smiled reading her contract in his office. (“Out, out,” he had said to Cassy, hustling her next door to Langley’s office, “you work for the enemy—shoo!”) To protect herself against a less supportive management, Alexandra had insisted on a contract rider that said, in the event that Jackson ever left Darenbrook Communications (which at the time had been extremely unlikely, unless he died—in which case Jackson asked Langley what the hell would he care), Alexandra had the option to buy her contract back and leave DBS or, within thirty days, exercise an option to
buy
DBS News at a price arrived at by a specific formula. The only hitch was (“Damn,” Jackson said, reading the next part of the contract rider, “Langley must have added this,”) that if Alexandra did buy DBS News, then DBS News had to continue to lease Darenbrook Communications facilities for one hundred years or until such time as Darenbrook Communications wished to cancel said lease.
No matter. So they kept DBS News here and rubbed their noses in it on a daily basis.
Hardhead said he wished to meet with Alexandra first, to hear straight from the source what kind of DBS News she envisioned, but this was a mere formality. Afterwards Jackson could publicize the fact that he would be going partners with him. Belinda also said she had thirty million Jackson could have (but he’d only take ten and let her underwrite twenty in loans).
He made two more calls and lined up partners for his newspaper and printing plant. He knocked on Langley’s door and poked his head in to announce this news—Cassy was in there with him—said he hoped they were having as much fun as he was, and closed the door.
By the time he got a hold of Alexandra in Kansas City, in his own head he had already bought DBS News. Alexandra, while clearly intrigued with the proposal, was not as raring to go as he had thought she would be. When he explained to her that things would go on as before, except now DBS News employees would own a piece of the company for which they worked, including a combined voting share block of forty—nine percent, she started to come around. And then when he said that he and Lord Hargrave and Belinda would hold combined voting shares of forty—nine percent, and that Alexandra, in addition to all of her personal interests as an employee of the company, would retain a two percent voting block as the “owner” of DBS News—therefore maintaining the capacity to swing the vote in case of a disagreement between employees and backers—she agreed to fly to London on Tuesday to meet with Lord Hargrave.
By the time Jackson went home to the Plaza a little after one in the morning he was whistling.
He was sitting on the couch in the living room, in his robe, playing with numbers, when Cassy dragged in at two. She stood there, just inside the door, looking exhausted. Her pale blue suit was crumpled; her hair was slipping down everywhere; there were circles under her eyes; and she was frowning. She dropped her briefcase on the floor.
“Hi,” he said. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
She sighed, taking a couple of steps in. “What are you doing to poor Alexandra?” she asked him. “You can’t be serious about this.”
“What do you mean, poor Alexandra?” he said. “Poor Alexandra’s going to own her own network.”
Cassy couldn’t find whatever words she was looking for. She threw her hand out finally, saying, ‘Jack—we haven’t even finished figuring out what the network is. Alexandra’s still trying to figure out the job she has. You can’t just step in and rip the operation apart.”