Chapter 25 #2
He studied the menu and decided on steak, which seemed like a safe choice, and went to his office to get his briefcase.
Marjorie appeared at his door ten minutes later. “Ready?”
Smitty flipped off the light and followed her down the long hallway.
She stopped to say goodnight to the few people who remained at their desks.
He noticed she said something personal to each of them about their kids, spouses, or pets. “You’ve done an admirable job of gaining the support of your employees,” he said when they were in the elevator.
She shrugged. “They loved my father. I’m benefiting from that.”
Smitty thought she was selling herself short, but he kept the opinion to himself.
On the sixteenth floor, she opened the door to the apartment across the hall from his. Boxes, packing tape, and bubble wrap littered the sprawling space. “Sorry about the mess. I’ve been packing up my father’s things in my spare time.”
“That can’t be an easy job.”
“It needs to be done, and there’s no one else to do it.” She gestured for him to make himself comfortable in the sitting area by the window overlooking the now-dark Sydney Harbour. “Do you mind if I change?”
“Of course not.”
“Help yourself to a drink.” She pointed to the bar. “I’ll be right back.”
Smitty took off his suit coat, tugged his tie loose, and opened the top button of his shirt. He poured two fingers of whiskey into a cocktail glass. The heat of the liquor was soothing after the long trip and busy day.
Marjorie returned wearing jeans and a loose-fitting tunic that made her look even younger than she had in the suit. She fixed herself a glass of white wine and joined him on the sofa. Putting her feet up on the coffee table, she sighed.
“Long day, huh?”
“It’s been a long two months.”
“Where were you living before your father died?”
“In Paris. I went to the Sorbonne to study art history and stayed there after school.”
“That’s a long way from home.”
“I came home twice a year to see my father, and he visited me whenever he could.”
The far-away look on her face told him she was remembering happier times. “Will you go back to Paris after you sell the company?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do.
I was working in a gallery on the Left Bank, but I gave up the job when I realized I was going to be here a while.
I’ll have to go back at some point to deal with my apartment there.
By the time the sale of the company is final I’ll probably need to sit on a beach for six months. ”
Bill Kepler had described her as prickly, but Smitty wasn’t seeing that. To him, she seemed more overwhelmed than anything after being tossed into a situation she was ill prepared for and was doing her best to handle.
When their dinner arrived, she got up to answer the door.
“Good evening, Ms. Jergenson,” the uniformed waiter said as he wheeled in a table set for two.
“Hallo, William.”
William nodded to Smitty. With a flourish, he lit the candles and uncovered the two entrees. “Is everything to your liking, ma’am?”
“It looks wonderful, thank you.” She pressed a bill into his hand.
“Have a nice evening, Ms. Jergenson,” he said on his way out the door.
“John?” She invited Smitty to join her at the table.
He realized just how hungry he was when the mouthwatering aroma reached him.
They ate in companionable silence.
She took a sip of her wine. “What’s America like? Is it as big and as loud as it seems in the movies?”
“You’ve never been?”
She shook her head. “I’ve been just about everywhere else but never to America. I’d love to go someday. Maybe when I get things settled here.”
“New York City is as loud and as crazy as it looks on TV and in the movies. But there’s much more to America than that.
There are lots of quiet, peaceful places, too.
” He thought of Block Island and was irritated when the pain resurfaced with a relentless disregard for his iron will to put it behind him.
“Are you sad, John?”
Startled, he looked at her. “Sad? No. Why do you ask?”
She held her wine glass in both hands as she rested her elbows on the table and studied him with eyes that were wise beyond her years. “You looked very sad for a moment.”
Unsettled by her observation, Smitty shook his head and got up to refill his glass of whiskey. “I’m not,” he said when he returned to the table.
“I’m sad all the time lately,” she confessed.
“That’s only natural. It must’ve been a terrible shock to lose your father so suddenly.”
“When David called . . .” Her eyes filled at the memory, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
She dabbed at her eyes. “I just hope you’ll find everything in order so the sale can go through. I need to get this settled. If you had ridden in here today on a white horse I wouldn’t have been any happier to see you.”
Charmed by her honesty and her accent, Smitty chuckled. “I would’ve packed my suit of armor had I known.”
“You think I’m kidding.”
“I know you’re not. Isn’t there anyone who can help you with the packing and with the business?”
“No, it’s just me. My mother died when I was in high school, and I’m an only child.
My father’s family lives in New Zealand.
Other than the funeral, I haven’t seen them in years.
His sisters attended the reading of his will, took the money, and ran.
Fortunately, I have David and the others helping at the office.
I don’t know what I would’ve done without them. ”
Smitty had never met anyone else who was as alone in the world as he was.
All at once he wanted to get this sale done for her as much as he wanted it for himself and his partners.
The responsibility weighed heavily on her, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she would be like once the burden was removed from her capable but fragile shoulders.
“Thank you for coming, John,” she said softly.
“You have no idea how happy I am to be here.”