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Authors: Christy Evans
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hadn’t smoothed out any of the rough edges. He’d gone through several wives, a couple girlfriends, and there was office gossip about Stan and an intern. He still looked and acted like a roughneck.
“So Stan’s running things now?”
“Well, Blake’s in charge, but Stan’s pretty involved. That is,” he amended hastily, “Blake was in charge. I guess Stan’s taking care of things for now. You know, until we can figure things out.”
“So, Richard, about that buyout? What was it you heard?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all, Georgie. I didn’t say a thing, okay?” He sounded more than embarrassed. He sounded scared.
“It’s not a big deal, Richard. I just wondered what people had heard.”
“What I heard was that there was a confidentiality agreement, and if anyone talked about it they’d be fired. You know this industry, Georgie. If somebody got canned here, they’d have a tough time finding another good job.”
I nodded, without realizing Richard couldn’t see me. Of course. He was afraid of losing his job if he talked about my nonexistent buyout.
I caught a whiff of something burning.
My dinner!
“Frack!” I dropped the phone on the table, and grabbed the frying pan. The toast in the pan was turning black around the edges. I dumped the whole mess into the sink, and turned off the stove.
I’d deal with it later.
“Georgiana?” Richard’s voice was tiny, carrying from where I’d abandoned the phone. “Georgie? Are you still there?”
I grabbed the phone back up. “Sorry, Richard. I was trying to burn dinner.” I glanced at the blackened mess in the sink. “Looks like I did a pretty good job, too.”
“I’m sorry. I called at a bad time. Maybe I should just call you back later, or something.”
“Never mind, Richard. It’s fine.” I thought for a second. “But just why did you call me? It’s been a long time since I left Samurai, after all.”
“Actually, it’s about Stan. He’s at the San Francisco airport, and he’s catching the next flight to Portland. He should be up there in a couple hours, and he said he’d like to talk to you while he’s there.”
“Ooookay,” I said slowly. “I don’t know why he’d want to talk to me, but you can pass along my number.”
“I don’t know, either, Georgie. I just know he asked me to find you and let him know how to get in touch.” Richard hesitated, and I could picture him, his mouth twisted as he pondered his next words. “You won’t tell him what I said, will you, Georgie? I mean, I know I wasn’t supposed to know and all, but it just slipped out. I swear, I won’t talk to anybody else about it or anything. I won’t even tell them I talked to you if you don’t want me to. Except for Stan, of course.”
“Sure, Richard. There isn’t any reason for me to mention it to Stan. I’m not even sure I’ll actually talk to him, since there isn’t anything I can really tell him.”
I finally got Richard off the phone, and turned back to inspect the wreckage of my dinner. The French toast was burned, I was out of eggs, and the frying pan was a crusted mess.
I called Garibaldi’s and ordered a pizza.
My mother didn’t have to know.
While I waited for the delivery driver, I thought about what Richard had said. “Everybody” at Samurai knew I’d taken a buyout? They thought I’d walked away with a bundle of cash and left them all behind.
No wonder no one had called. And I just bet that rumor was strategically “leaked” to the entire company as soon as I was out the door. It certainly would have sounded better than the truth—that Blake and the board of directors that included Stan Fischer had cheated me out of the company, and left me without a dime.
And Stan was on his way to Pine Ridge. I wanted to see him even less than I wanted to see Blake. The last time I’d seen him was when I left San Francisco with my tail between my legs. It would be awkward; more so because Stan didn’t have the social grace and
“So Stan’s running things now?”
“Well, Blake’s in charge, but Stan’s pretty involved. That is,” he amended hastily, “Blake was in charge. I guess Stan’s taking care of things for now. You know, until we can figure things out.”
“So, Richard, about that buyout? What was it you heard?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all, Georgie. I didn’t say a thing, okay?” He sounded more than embarrassed. He sounded scared.
“It’s not a big deal, Richard. I just wondered what people had heard.”
“What I heard was that there was a confidentiality agreement, and if anyone talked about it they’d be fired. You know this industry, Georgie. If somebody got canned here, they’d have a tough time finding another good job.”
I nodded, without realizing Richard couldn’t see me. Of course. He was afraid of losing his job if he talked about my nonexistent buyout.
I caught a whiff of something burning.
My dinner!
“Frack!” I dropped the phone on the table, and grabbed the frying pan. The toast in the pan was turning black around the edges. I dumped the whole mess into the sink, and turned off the stove.
I’d deal with it later.
“Georgiana?” Richard’s voice was tiny, carrying from where I’d abandoned the phone. “Georgie? Are you still there?”
I grabbed the phone back up. “Sorry, Richard. I was trying to burn dinner.” I glanced at the blackened mess in the sink. “Looks like I did a pretty good job, too.”
“I’m sorry. I called at a bad time. Maybe I should just call you back later, or something.”
“Never mind, Richard. It’s fine.” I thought for a second. “But just why did you call me? It’s been a long time since I left Samurai, after all.”
“Actually, it’s about Stan. He’s at the San Francisco airport, and he’s catching the next flight to Portland. He should be up there in a couple hours, and he said he’d like to talk to you while he’s there.”
“Ooookay,” I said slowly. “I don’t know why he’d want to talk to me, but you can pass along my number.”
“I don’t know, either, Georgie. I just know he asked me to find you and let him know how to get in touch.” Richard hesitated, and I could picture him, his mouth twisted as he pondered his next words. “You won’t tell him what I said, will you, Georgie? I mean, I know I wasn’t supposed to know and all, but it just slipped out. I swear, I won’t talk to anybody else about it or anything. I won’t even tell them I talked to you if you don’t want me to. Except for Stan, of course.”
“Sure, Richard. There isn’t any reason for me to mention it to Stan. I’m not even sure I’ll actually talk to him, since there isn’t anything I can really tell him.”
I finally got Richard off the phone, and turned back to inspect the wreckage of my dinner. The French toast was burned, I was out of eggs, and the frying pan was a crusted mess.
I called Garibaldi’s and ordered a pizza.
My mother didn’t have to know.
While I waited for the delivery driver, I thought about what Richard had said. “Everybody” at Samurai knew I’d taken a buyout? They thought I’d walked away with a bundle of cash and left them all behind.
No wonder no one had called. And I just bet that rumor was strategically “leaked” to the entire company as soon as I was out the door. It certainly would have sounded better than the truth—that Blake and the board of directors that included Stan Fischer had cheated me out of the company, and left me without a dime.
And Stan was on his way to Pine Ridge. I wanted to see him even less than I wanted to see Blake. The last time I’d seen him was when I left San Francisco with my tail between my legs. It would be awkward; more so because Stan didn’t have the social grace and
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