Fortune Is a Woman (31 page)

Three-thirty: she put her wife to bed; called her maid to say hi and gave her a grocery list for tomorrow morning; called the Keagans to say hi and made tentative plans with them for an early dinner at Frank’s Place tomorrow night.

Four: she poured scotch and gin down the kitchen sink, locked the liquor cabinet, and undertook to clean the penthouse.

Seven-thirty: she poured herself a glass of merlot and crashed on the couch to Handel’s
Messiah
.

_____

Sebastion and Venus sat cross-legged and silent in her kitchen while Sebastion’s man crept around on all fours searching every nook and cranny of the apartment, pulling up the rugs, investigating the outlets and appliances, disassembling the remote controls. He looked absurd with his earphones and goggles, his high-tech devices and laptop. She felt absurd having him there.

“They usually put them way up or way down,” he said authoritatively. “People don’t typically look up and down a lot when they’re at home.”

That made some kind of mad sense to Venus. She gave him the go-ahead to dismantle the ceiling fixtures and wall vents, provided he could get them back together again.

He could. This final chore completed he took his earphones and goggles off and addressed her as he packed his bag. “The hallway and elevator are clean, your phones and electronics are clean, the entire interior zone is clean. There’s a couple of motion detection sensors out on your patio, infrared, but I can’t get to them with all that snow out there. They’re probably fine though. The vents, plumbing, lighting, alarm system…no indication at all of any tampering anywhere. There’s no bugs in here, ma’am. Never was.”

Sebastion slapped him on the back and handed him a wad of cash. “Good job, my man.”

The man shoved the bills into his jeans pocket.

“That’s great, but what about my office?”

“I can sweep your office for bugs, but I’ll tell you it’s most likely in the switchboard and I won’t mess with that. Felony trespass if they choose to prosecute.”

Felony trespass. Crap.

“But the good news is that surveillance is still pretty primitive in corporate America,” the man said scornfully. “Since managers and bosses aren’t ashamed to let their employees know they’re watching them, practically nothing’s hidden from view. Look for cameras and listening devices in the halls and elevators, in cafeterias and copy rooms, lobbies and bathrooms, and especially near those popular water fountains,” he told her with a laugh. “Any communal space in your building is big brother domain. Eavesdropping on your telephone calls is fair game, too. Like I said, that’s done by switchboard, generally, and then computers sift through everyone’s faxes and e-mails–a permanent record by the way, e-mails, even if you delete them. Phone taps and e-mail searches on employees are routine. Random in most cases. In some cases not. Your cell phone, I’m sure you’re aware, is never secure. Absolutely anyone can overhear those conversations. Anytime, anyplace. Don’t use a cell phone for anything but ordering pizza.”

She groaned and sat on the bar stool. “I want my office swept for listening devices. What can I do if it’s in the switchboard?”

He shrugged. “You’re a vice president there?”

“Yeah.”

“Change the policy.”

He was turning out to be a lot brighter than she had initially credited him to be. She deflected his jab with a self-effacing grin. “Right now, I mean.”

“Oh,
right now
.” He opened his bag of tricks again and like a wizard with his potions produced a tentacled box about the size of a cigarette lighter. “I can attach that to your phone cord. There’s an LED right here. That’ll flash when someone’s opened your line. You can’t stop him from listening in, but at least this way you’ll know he is.”

“And he won’t know I know?”

“Not unless you start stuttering or he searches your office, which, of course, he doesn’t need a warrant to do.”

Would Paula go that far? Venus wondered. Search her office? Nah, she wouldn’t search her office. She’d have John do it.

“That’s the best I can offer,” the wizard said.

“It’s better than nothing,” Sebastion interjected.

“Yeah,” Venus had to agree. “I guess I’ll have to risk it.”

_____

Ten o’clock. Another nightmare for Dr. Kristenson as she slept on the couch. Carlos is calling to her, half his face in darkness. Up, he says. Get up. But she can’t get up. He holds his hand out to her, his face disappearing in darkness. Up, Dr. Kristenson. Come to–a ball of fire.

“Helaine?”

Helaine woke disoriented. She squinted at the figure in the light. Was this Munich? Was it Prague?

“Helaine?”

It was Rome? Where’s Carlos?

“Wake up.”

“Lydia?”

“You’re having a nigh–what are you doing out here?”

“Oh, god, Lydia, I’m dreaming. Awful dreams.”

“Lana, you’re….safe.”

“Safe?” It made no sense to her.

“Here,” Lydia whispered, “come to bed.”

To Win or To Vanquish

Forty-eight hours disappeared in the blink of an eye and Lydia returned to work on Wednesday satisfied but still wearing the dark circles of Sunday, Cicero’s tempting youth still lurking in the recesses of her mind, jumbled there with vague apprehensions about everything, which good judgment and Delilah implored her not to voice.

Robert and Kay were right. Helaine had lost weight, too. Yes, the Keagans insisted, they both had. Lydia thought it best not to trouble them about nightmares.

Her brief discussion with Carlos after Helaine had boarded the airplane this morning had helped to allay the most prominent fear. Carlos had taken it upon himself last week to hire Dr. Kristenson a burly Australian bodyguard and in her absence this week, had retained the services of yet another, an eagle-eyed Italian currently assigned to meet her at the airport today, posing innocuously enough, Carlos hoped, to pass as her new driver. Hereinafter, he assured Lydia, the doctor would go nowhere without these fellows, whether she liked it or not.

Bodyguards she wouldn’t like, Lydia already knew.

The joint president didn’t recall leaving her office unlocked but who knows, she said to herself, as she stepped inside it. Clever Venus had filled in for her. Maybe she figured out the combination.

“Black with raw sugar–how’s Ms. Beaumont?”

“John,” she said, startled by his greeting. Her office seemed in order. “Good,” she replied, taking the coffee from him and regaining her composure. “Thank you.”

“You left it unlocked,” he explained, as if reading her mind. “Which turned out to be rather convenient…considering.”

“Oh,” she said, blowing steam from the rim of her cup. “I swear I don’t know where my head’s at these days.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he said, over his shoulder. “We got you covered.”

Moments later JP Beaumont flew by his desk with her coat flung open, her eyes blazing, her face taut with a controlled rage. “Is everything all right?” he called after her. He saw her lift her fists in the air. “Ms. Beaumont?”

“Take my calls, John. I’ll be right back.”

She took the stairs down to VP Angelo’s.

Kate smiled to see her so soon. “There,” she said, indicating the stack of quarters on her desk. “She said to take these coins.”

Lydia pocketed the coins. “Are you in charge here?” she muttered angrily.

The rest of the staff hid their heads behind their cubicles and began feverishly banging at their keyboards.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lydia lowered her voice. “Don’t ever aid and abet her again. Do you understand me? Or you’ll be cleaning the bathrooms for the rest of your professional life.”

Kate giggled nervously. “Yes, ma’am.”

_____

“Give me my ball back. I don’t have time for this sh–for these shenanigans.”

“Shenanigans–that’s archaic for bullshit? How are you, Lydia? You sound livid.”

Venus had removed the little beige ball from JP Beaumont’s mouse, left her a note stuffed in the mouse’s belly. If Lydia was following instructions right she should have placed this call from the pay phone around the corner from Soloman-Schmitt. Or never see her ball again!

“Are you at the pay–”

“Venus, how dare you! How dare you play pranks on–PLEASE DEPOSIT…THIRTY…FIVE…CENTS…FOR…FIVE…I’m the …MORE MIN–oint presiden–EASE DEPOS…amnit!“

Lydia could still operate her computer, but it would be a pain in the ass. She could call maintenance to fix it, but she would look ridiculous. Venus smiled at the sound of coins falling in the slot.

“TWEN-TY…FIVE…FIF-TY…SEVENTY…FIVE CENTS…THANK YOU–Venus, are you–HAVE…TWELVE MORE MINUTES…CALL TIME…CREDITED–eal jerk!”

“Lydia, you’re going to waste this call screaming?”

“Where is the ball?”

“I have your ball. It’s with your present.”

“My…present?”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Venus, I didn’t get you–where–your place?”

“Would you like that? I have a fire going.”

“I’d–it’s cold, Venus. Please. I need to get back to the office.”

“Kate has your present.”

“Kate does? Then why are we doing this?”

“Because I wanted to talk to you, to hear your–”

“You could have called me upstairs!”

“The whole building’s bugged, Lydia.”

“What?”

“Big brother. Or should I say Big Paula?”

“Come on…you sound like Helaine now. How do you know this?”

“You doubt it?”

(Silence.)

“Anyway, Kate’s got some paperwork you need to review. She’ll bring it up in a half an hour.”

“She knows, Venus? She understands all this?”

Kate was a bright girl. Venus wasn’t sure what she knew but she trusted her. “She’ll understand if you act goofy about it.” She threw another log on the fire and watched the sparks scatter in the air. “So be cool, Lydia. It’s a Christmas present.”

“Venus Angelo.”

“Yes?”

“You don’t have to give me presents. I’ve got everything I–”

“Lydia Beaumont.”

“Yes?”

“I’m your Xs, you’re my Os.”

“What?”

“Merry Christmas, your highness.” (click)

_____

“Ms. Fitz-Simone to see you.”

“Thanks, John. Send her in, please.”

“Right away. Are you feeling okay? You look feverish.”

“I’m fine. Just send her in.”

“Good morning…again,” Kate said, after John had left.

“Kate. You have my ball?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Lydia held out her hand and Kate placed a small gift box in it.

“It’s in there, I’m told.”

“You’re told?” Lydia put the box in her lap and signaled the girl to sit.

Kate sat.

“Assistant or accomplice?”

Kate hesitated. “Yes, ma’am,” she responded bashfully.

“Yes–that’s for life you know?”

Kate nodded. “I gathered.”

Lydia studied her face. She was shy but forthright, fidgety with that wedding band, which meant that she would, inevitably, lose it. A small-town girl, Lydia guessed. Probably from the Midwest where she was the class valedictorian. Peaches and cream and cream of the crop, and from there she went on to graduate with honors, again and again. Here she could have gone unnoticed for years, but she had stepped in it with Venus Angelo. She was a polite, small-town girl serving the hip and street-wise vice president, who was, Lydia suspected, only a few years her senior. Good instincts to know to be loyal and honest to Prince Angelo. For a prince Venus had to be to get away with as much as she had.

Her gift weighed heavy in her lap. “How old are you, if I may?”

“I’m twenty-six.”

“How long have you worked for Soloman-Schmitt?”

“Um…thirteen months.”

“You put in for your raise yet?”

“A raise, Ms. Beaumont?”

“They don’t just fall from the sky, Ms. Fitz-Simone. You have to ask for them.”

“I’ve…no.”

“The firm owes you. Put in for your raise.”

“Okay.”

“And every six months thereafter. That’s how it works. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

_____

She returned the gift with a thanks-for-your-admiration-style apology. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do. She had been so engrossed lately with Soloman-Schmitt and Christmas shopping, Sebastion and Anna–in a few short days flying to Paris to spend the remainder of her holiday with Claudine–that she had practically forgotten about Sharon Chambers.

Sebastion had been forced to bring up the issue of the diamond bracelet because Sharon was pitilessly pursuing him about Venus and he had run out of excuses. She took Sharon’s address and sent it back to her special post. The gladiolas had long since expired in Sebastion’s office and though she had never seen them, she thanked her for the beautiful flowers, too, and in this tactful way considered the matter closed. There had been no more calls from Sharon at the office since the day she had fired Billy Kendle, or else Kate was astute enough not to bother her with them. Thus she didn’t expect to hear from the ex-model again.

But that was so naïve.

“It’s a present, Mommy?”

“Helen, please. Just pay attention to what you’re doing.”

The child was hanging tinsel artlessly on the tree. She tossed the last clump of it on the floor and ran to her mother’s side. “Who’s it from?” she demanded to know.

“Santa,” Sharon replied. She set the parcel aside without revealing its contents to her daughter, too stunned to admit that pretty Venus Angelo had turned her down, sent back the diamond bracelet. “You know, that fat old bearded bastard in the red suit?” Oh, oh, oh, she would get her for this. Oh yes, she would. A day or a decade, no matter. She would get her somehow.

“Mommy,” Helen said reproachfully. “There’s no such thing as Santa Claus.”

False

Glossary of common terms found in the female lexicon:

1. “No.”
No
is a difficult word for most of us, so when we say
no
it means
NO
.