Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Smitty knew he was being a masochist when he asked his driver to take him down Caroline’s street on the way to the financial district in lower Manhattan on Monday morning.
The car and driver were one of the perks of partnership that he took full advantage of since battling his way from one end of the congested city to the other used to be his least favorite part of the work day.
He usually used the time in the car to make phone calls and check his e-mail as well as the Tokyo and London exchange numbers on his BlackBerry.
But today he stared out the window without seeing much of anything.
Smitty had thought he was mad before, but what he felt now was just rage—pure white-hot rage. That motherfucker didn’t waste any time. Was he on his way here when I was still with her? Are they in her bed right now making up for lost time? Son of a bitch.
He admitted to himself right then that he had hoped to somehow salvage his friendship with Ted, despite what had happened.
He had hoped his longtime friend would manage to explain his actions in a way Smitty could live with so they could continue to be friends.
But all those hopes evaporated the minute he spotted that car parked on her street.
“Mr. Smith?” the driver was saying. “Mr. Smith?”
Startled out of his thoughts, Smitty said, “Yes?”
“Have you seen what you needed to see here?”
“Yes. I’ve seen more than enough.”
Still reeling, Smitty rode the elevator to the thirty-sixth floor.
His large office overlooked the footprint of what used to be the World Trade Center towers.
Today, though, he didn’t take the time to look out and remember.
He dropped his briefcase on his cluttered desk and went straight to the senior partner’s office.
Bill Kepler’s assistant waved him in.
With a perfunctory knock, Smitty walked into Kepler’s massive office with its panoramic view of Manhattan, the Hudson River, and New Jersey in the distance.
“Morning.”
“Hey, Smitty, come on in. I was just talking about you. Were your ears ringing?”
Smitty didn’t notice the joking smile on his boss’s face nor did he care why Kepler had been talking about him, but he knew better than to be curt to the man who had been so good to him in the ten years since he had joined the firm. “No ringing ears. What’s going on?”
“I just got off the phone with James King. He’s thrilled with the latest report and was singing your praises.”
“That’s good to hear. I need to give him a call today to run a few new ideas by him, but that’s not why I’m here.”
Kepler sat back in his large chair and eyed Smitty with interest. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve decided to see to the Australia project personally. I just wanted you to know I’m on a flight to L.A. tonight.”
Kepler’s surprise showed on his face. “I thought you were sending Peter.”
“I thought about it this weekend, and it’s something I’d like to take care of myself.”
“Is something else going on? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’d love to have you handle it, but it never occurred to me that you’d want to.”
Smitty shrugged. “It interests me. It’s as simple as that.”
Kepler brought his hands together in an A frame under his chin as he thought it over. “You’d be able to maintain your accounts from Sydney, I presume.”
Smitty knew he meant James King’s account in particular. “Of course.”
Kepler leaned forward to dig a thick file out of a stack on his desk.
“Here’s the file on the Jergenson Investment Company.
As I mentioned in the partner meeting the other day, Norman Jergenson died two months ago.
His daughter, Marjorie, is seeking a buyer, which fits well with our plans to expand into the Australian market.
She approached us first and isn’t entertaining other offers until we make a decision.
I got the sense when I talked to her last week that she’s primarily concerned with her employees and wants to find a buyer who’ll retain as many of them as possible. ”
“If everything checks out I’d envision a name change but not much else,” Smitty said as he flipped through the file. “Is that what you have in mind?”
“Exactly. If you’re not liking what you see with Jergenson, let me know, and we’ll have you take a look at some of the other possibilities while you’re there.”
“I will.”
“Marjorie mentioned they have an apartment in their office building that’s available to whomever we send for the due diligence study.”
“That makes it easy.” Smitty stood up and shook Kepler’s hand.
“Marjorie’s, um, what’s the word I’m looking for . . . She’s prickly. Well, you’ll see what I mean. I’m sure you can handle her.”
Smitty nodded in agreement. “I’ll keep you in the loop.”
Kepler gave him another measuring look. “Have a safe trip.”
Smitty returned to his own office and closed the door. Reaching for his cell phone, he dialed Chip at his midtown office. When he learned Dr. Taggert was with a patient, he left a message and called Parker.
“Hey, you just caught me,” Parker said. “I’m due in court in fifteen minutes.”
“I can call you later.” Smitty’s nerves were raw as he took the steps necessary to make a clean getaway.
“I’ve got a few minutes. What’s up?”
“I wanted to let you know I’m going to be in Sydney for the next month or two.”
“Huh? What’s in Sydney?”
Smitty filled him in on the trip but not his reason for going.
“Wow, well, that’s a bummer. You’ll miss the rest of the summer in Newport.”
“I know. You guys can decide if you want to bring in another roommate. I don’t care about the money.”
“It won’t be the same without you.”
“You definitely won’t eat as well,” Smitty joked.
Parker laughed. “That’s a fact.”
“There’s, ah, one other thing I wanted to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
“Caroline and I broke up.”
“You did?” Parker asked, shocked. “Why?”
“Well, it didn’t seem fair to ask her to sit around while I’m gone for a month, especially when we both know it’s not going the distance.”
“That’s not the impression you’ve been giving us.”
“It’s either there or it isn’t.” Smitty winced. “In this case, it wasn’t.”
“Jeez, Smitty, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry. I really thought you might’ve found the one for you.”
So did I, Smitty thought. “The search continues. Any progress with your situation?”
“Not yet, but in a few days I hope to be able to say more about it.”
“Well, good luck. Send me an e-mail, and let me know what happens.”
“I will.”
“Can you do me a favor and tell Duff what’s going on? I’ve tried to call him a couple of times today, and all I get is his voicemail. I don’t want to leave a three-minute message, so do you mind filling him in?”
“Sure, no problem. Keep in touch while you’re down under, you hear?”
“Oh, you’ll be hearing from me, don’t worry.”
“Take care of yourself, Smitty.”
“Will do.”
Smitty hung up and when Chip called twenty minutes later, he had almost the same conversation with him. Finally, he called Mitzi on Block Island.
“Hi, honey, this is a nice surprise,” she said in that breathless voice of hers.
“Thanks for the fabulous weekend. You and Lillian really know how to throw a party.”
“It was fun, wasn’t it? It’s so sweet of you to call.”
“I also wanted to tell you I’m going to be in Australia for the next month or so for work.”
“Oh, no! You’ll miss all of August in Newport.”
“I know, but it was a great opportunity to spend some time in another country, so I didn’t want to pass it up.”
“Caroline must be beside herself.”
Actually she’s beside your son in bed at the moment. “We broke up yesterday.”
“Oh, Smitty,” Mitzi gasped. “What happened?”
“Just wasn’t meant to be, I guess.”
“I was so sure about her. We all liked her so much. I’m sorry.”
“I am, too. Well, I need to get back to work so I can get to the airport on time this afternoon.”
“I’m glad you called. Are you all right, honey?”
“I’m disappointed,” he said, putting it mildly. “But I’ll survive. I always do.”
“I’m here if you need me. You know that, right?”
Touched by her support, he said, “I sure do.”
“Send us a postcard from Australia.”
“You got it. Give everyone my love, and thanks again for a great time this weekend.”
“We love you, Smitty. You remember that.”
“I will,” he whispered, surprised when his eyes filled. “Thank you.”
Smitty left Kennedy on a six o’clock flight that got him into Los Angeles at eight forty-five p.m. Pacific time.
At LAX, he killed almost three hours in The Qantas Club before boarding an eleven fifty flight to Sydney.
Fourteen hours and thirty-five minutes of first-class luxury later, he landed in Sydney where it was Wednesday morning.
Somewhere over the Pacific he had lost Tuesday, but he didn’t care.
Tuesday would have been a shitty day anyway.