by Gail Bowen
“And as the song says, ‘Something’s gotta give.’” Zack dipped his spoon into the nearly empty bowl.
“Ben says that if Ainsley let Fawn take over as executive producer, we could all get on with doing our jobs. Living Skies would need a general manager, but Ben didn’t feel that would be an insurmountable problem.”
“No. In fact, not a problem at all. Falconer Shreve handles Living Skies’ legal affairs, and we’re front and centre now protecting their interests as the fire investigation continues.”
“No smoking gun there?”
“Nope. Fire and Protective Services are keeping their cards close to their chest, but everything we know seems to point to arson. Anyway, Maisie jumped in and took a potential client I didn’t want off my hands today, so I have some time. Given everything, I may step into the management of Living Skies myself.”
“And leave your law practice?” I said. “That’s crazy.”
“It would be,” Zack agreed. “I’m just talking short term — a couple of hours a day to make sure the company’s in fighting trim.”
“And to keep Buzz Wells from getting his hands on it,” I said. “It’s a terrific idea. Are you sure being a part-time lawyer won’t make you crazy?”
“It won’t be for long. It will plug a hole that Buzz Wells might burrow in through, and it’ll give us time to get somebody first-rate to take over.”
“So where are you going to start?”
“With Georgie. She’s still nominally executive producer, so we need her onside.”
“She will be,” I said. “I’ll call her as soon as we’re finished here. What’s the plan of action?”
“We need to buy back the Living Skies stock Gabe gave to Buzz Wells’s creditors as an incentive to get them to force Buzz to pay his debts. Life’s complicated enough without having loan sharks as stockholders. And on another front, Jo, how would you feel about me sitting in on the table meeting tomorrow?”
“I’d feel immensely relieved. Buzz has had Ainsley to himself since Monday. If they’ve formed a bond, they’ll have the upper hand at the meeting tomorrow. Georgie shouldn’t have to face them alone. This is a high-risk pregnancy. Georgie’s forty-four — her doctor is already concerned about her blood pressure. I’ll fight the good fight with her, but we could really use backup.”
Zack covered my hand with his. “You’ve got me.”
“The three best words in the English language,” I said. “Thanks. I love you.”
“The other three best words,” Zack said, and he held out his arms to me.
Chapter Fifteen
When Pantera, Esme and I came back from our walk Friday morning, the dishwasher was chugging, the aroma of coffee drifted through the air, and my husband and our daughter were sitting at the kitchen table in their robes with the satisfied expressions of cats who got the cream.
“Good morning,” I said. “Obviously, you both started your days sunny side up.”
“We did,” Zack said. “Taylor and I have made an offer for that stock in Living Skies that Gabe used to induce Buzz Wells’s unsavoury acquaintances to put the squeeze on him.”
“You move fast,” I said. “How did you find out who owned the stock?”
“Through the firm’s files. Transfer of stock has to be recorded, and it was. The owner of thirty percent of Living Skies was a company called Murray2193 in New York City. It’s a shell company, but there was a contact number. I called and a very pleasant-sounding woman picked up. I told her I was interested in buying the stock because I lived in Regina and I was thinking I might like to dabble in movies in my retirement. She said she’d get back to me — and she did in less than ten minutes. The price she asked was exorbitant but manageable, and I wasn’t about to dicker. So Taylor and I gathered our pop bottles together and took the plunge.”
I turned to our daughter. “How come you’re involved?”
“Dad thought a family purchase would seem less aggressive.”
“Your dad’s a smart guy.”
“Thank you.” Zack wheeled his chair back. “Time for me to get ready for the office and for my new gig as a movie mogul.”
“Wear that grey suit you wore to Peter and Maisie’s wedding, and the tie with the swirl of colours that always makes me think of Scheherazade,” I said. “Show Buzz Wells he’s out of his league.”
When I called Georgie about the stock transfer, she was enthusiastic. “A nice preemptive strike and a necessary one. As I said last night, I’m glad Zack’s stepping in. I’ll save you places next to me at the meeting.”
I’d just broken the connection with Georgie when Charlie D called. “Buzz Wells has agreed to a live interview Monday morning,” he said.
“That was fast.”
“Buzz jumped at the chance to ‘introduce’ himself.”
“What’s he like?”
“Cocky. Jo, Wells is not talking like a man who is being considered for a position. He’s talking like a man who’s in charge, and he has big plans for the series.”
“So do we,” I said. “Zack’s coming on board. He’ll be at the meeting today, and he has some announcements that might take the wind out of Buzz’s sails, at least temporarily.”
When I described Zack’s strategy, Charlie whistled. “Take notes and call me when the meeting’s over.”
“Will do,” I said. “So how are you preparing for the face to face?”
“I’ve already got phone interviews lined up with some of the players in the land of the castaway dolls. They seem very eager to talk about their experiences with Mr. Wells.”
* * *
I was in the garage sorting through the girls’ old toy boxes, when Peter arrived. I’d opened the garage door to let in the fresh spring air, and when Pete spotted me, he came in. He looked terrible: pale, exhausted and unkempt. My grandmother would have said he “looked like he’d been dragged through a knothole backwards.” He gave me a one-armed hug. “So what are you up to?”
“Just going through the girls’ old toys to find some things Charlie and Colin might have fun with this weekend.”
Pete took a deep breath. “About this weekend . . . we’re going to have to cancel, Mum. Maisie just took on a big case. It’s complicated — the Crown says it was murder and the accused says it was self-defence. The accused fired his lawyer and the trial starts in two weeks, so Maisie will be pulling all-nighters until then.”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Zack and I were looking forward to having time with the boys.”
“Maisie and I are sorry too. We were looking forward to being at the lake,” Pete said. “But this came up.”
“Do you have time to come inside and talk?”
Pete tried a smile. “Actually, having a talk is the reason I’m here.”
Remembering Maisie’s misery after she and I had put Charlie and Colin down for their naps on the day we saw the crocuses, I felt a chill. I’d attempted to reassure her, but Maisie had never disguised her passion for the law, and I knew the cracks in her relationship with Pete were bound to deepen. As Pete followed me into the kitchen, I was certain he’d come to tell that he and Maisie had decided to separate, and I was heartsick.
“Can I get you anything?” I said.
“Thanks,” he said, “but I’m fine. Actually, Mum I really am fine, and so is Maisie, although she doesn’t look much better than I do this morning.”
I took the chair across from him. “You had a bad night?”
“The worst,” Pete said. “We never fight, but last night we did, and it was terrible. Maisie came home late from the office. The boys were already asleep. She said we couldn’t go to the lake because she had a new client. You know that I’m a no-drama guy, but I was tired too, and I blew up. We both said things — cruel things that we’d obviously been feeling for a long time. And it didn’t stop — the words just kept on coming. It was
the worst night of my life, and then suddenly Maisie and I just looked at each other and realized what we were about to lose and we both said, ‘This can’t happen!’ Exactly the same words at exactly the same moment. I don’t know how to explain it — it was as if the wall we’d built between us fell down, and we were on the same side again.”
Relief washed over me. “You’ve found a way forward?”
Pete nodded. “We laid out our priorities. We love each other. We love Charlie and Colin. We both love our work. Once we’d established that, we knew we had to find a way to protect what mattered most to us.”
“And you did . . .”
“We did, and that meant facing the fact that our decision to live on the farm was a mistake.” Pete paused, watching my face for a reaction.
“That’s a big decision,” I said. “You’re not simply changing your address, you’re changing your way of life.”
“We know that,” Pete said, and his voice was firm. “Mum, there was no other answer. It’s only an hour’s drive into town, but Maisie and I are both making that drive twice a day, and half the time we have the kids with us. Often by the time Maisie gets behind the wheel to come home, she’s put in twelve hours at the office. Last night she told me that more than once she’s caught herself just as she was falling asleep.”
My breath caught in my throat. “That’s terrifying.”
“It is, and the odds that one night she might not wake up in time were against us. We examined all the possibilities, but the only one that made sense was to move back to Regina.”
“But you love the farm, and Maisie grew up there. She says when she’s in that house she feels that Lee is very close to her.”
“Maisie and I talked that through. Taking over Lee’s breeding program was a joy for me. I love the work, and I love the life, but I love Maisie and our sons more. And Maisie knows that moving from the house where she and Lee shared their lives will be painful, but last night we realized that unless we sacrificed something, we could lose everything.”
The bands of tension that had been tight around my chest since Pete walked into the garage and said he’d come to talk to me had begun to loosen. “So the decision is made,” I said. “What’s next?”
“We may be in luck on that score,” my son said. “There’s already at least one potential buyer. Vince Treadgold has already asked me to keep an eye out for a farm like ours.”
“So Vince is serious about changing course.”
Pete grinned. “He is, and it’s fun just being around him. He’s smart, he’s passionate, and he says that for the first time in a long time, he can’t wait to get up in the morning.”
“Okay. So do you want me to start checking out real estate listings here in the city?”
“That would be aces,” Pete said. “Now I’d better get a move on. I’m picking the boys up from child care early. When they go down for their naps, I’m going with them.”
“You have no idea how relieved I am that you and Maisie have worked this out,” I said. “We all love you and Maisie and the boys so much.”
“And we love you,” Pete said, and his voice was rough with emotion.
* * *
As I walked to the Living Skies offices for the table meeting, I was surprisingly relaxed. I had been apprehensive about meeting Buzz Wells, but Zack was a formidable ally and Peter’s good news had buoyed me. I knew that Gracie Falconer, the daughter of Zack’s late partner, Blake, was ready to sell the big Tudor home in which she’d grown up, and I was weighing the pluses and minuses the house presented for a busy young couple with very active twin boys, when Danny Kerrigan burst out of the production studios’ entrance and jogged towards me.
Danny was painfully awkward, both physically and socially. That afternoon, he greeted me with a disarmingly open smile. “Nick told me you were coming to the meeting today, Mrs. Shreve, and I’ve been waiting for you.”
“Well, I’m here now.”
“I wanted to tell you that nothing bad will happen to Taylor and Vale.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “I know you and Lizzie were concerned about them.”
Danny’s face creased with pleasure and he took my hands in his. “We’re not concerned anymore. Pastor Kirk always says, ‘Why worry when you can pray?’ and he’s told everyone at the Church of the Bountiful Gifts to pray that Taylor and Vale will be delivered from evil and see the light.”
Danny watched my face expectantly, waiting for my response. I was speechless, but finally, the words came. “I’m praying that same prayer for you, Lizzie and for all your friends at the Church, especially Pastor Kirk.”
“I’ll tell him. Mrs. Shreve, isn’t it funny that we have exactly the same prayer?”
“It’s a good prayer,” I said. “And I’m going to keep saying it.”
* * *
The meeting was scheduled for two o’clock, but the room was already almost filled. Georgie waved me to the place beside her. As acting executive producer she’d taken the chair at the head of the table. I noticed she’d put her bag on the chair next to her, reserving the place for Zack’s wheelchair.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “Buzz came knocking at my door this morning. You were right. He’s going with the charm offensive. He brought me an extra-large latte from that chi-chi place around the corner and asked if he could come in and ‘run a few things by me.’
“There was no way I was going to let him through that door, and Buzz must have known that, but he’d apparently banished the memory of what a total turd he was when he was the showrunner on that sitcom I wrote for. For Ainsley’s sake, I was polite. I explained that I was getting married at the beginning of May, and I had a full morning planned. He gushed about my bridal glow and what a lucky guy my groom was, said he’d catch me later and slithered back upstairs.”
I groaned. “And Ainsley is bringing him to this meeting. Katy, bar the door.”
“Too late,” Georgie said. “Cast a discreet look at the front of the room. Buzz has already entered the building.”
Wearing what I’d come to believe was the uniform of the boy-men in the movie industry — closely fitted blue jeans, black t-shirt and top-of-the-line runners — Buzz was as tanned, chiselled and carefully coiffed as he was in his photo on the web page. But there was a surprise. From the photo, it appeared that, like many actors and politicians, Buzz Wells had a large head, and I’d assumed he would be a towering presence.
Georgie gave me a sidelong glance. “So what do you think?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just assumed he’d loom larger.”
“I told you he was like Rumpelstiltskin,” Georgie said. “Diminutive — ‘a manikin.’ But don’t let his size fool you — Buzz may be tiny, but he fights dirty.”
“Rumpelstiltskin came to a bad end,” I said. “After the young queen proved that she knew his name, he stomped so hard his entire leg went into the earth and when he tried to pull it out, he tore himself in two.”
Georgie lowered her head to hide her smile. “We shouldn’t be making light of this.”
“Why not? Look at him, working the room.” Politician-style, Wells was walking around the table, introducing himself, shaking hands. “The charm offensive,” I whispered.
Buzz had barely managed to make it halfway down one side of the table when Zack appeared in the doorway. A powerful man in a wheelchair is a magnet, especially when he’s wearing a tie with a swirl of colour vibrant as a sultan’s treasure. Georgie murmured to me, “I believe the focus in the room just shifted.”
Buzz had left Ainsley alone, and Zack wheeled over to her. They greeted each other warmly, leaving Buzz stranded, with three-quarters of the people in the room still to charm. As Zack approached us, Georgie took her bag off the seat of the vacant chair and pushed the chair out of the way. When Zack wheeled in next to her, Georgie didn’t miss a beat.
/> She rose to her feet and in a carrying voice said, “We’re ready to begin. For those of you who haven’t already met him, this is Zack Shreve, the senior partner in Falconer Shreve Altieri Wainberg and Hynd, the firm that handles Living Skies’ legal business. In the past four months, Living Skies has been in a state of flux. As our lawyer and as the new owner of a significant percentage of Living Skies shares, Zack is assessing the health of the production company and our options for the future. But before I hand the meeting over to Zack, I’d like to welcome Ainsley’s friend, Buzz Wells, to our meeting.” Georgie’s smile was sweetly innocent. “He’s visiting from New York.” Buzz, still frozen mid-greeting with Edie Gunn, the locations manager, tried a jaunty wave, but Georgie had already returned her attention to Zack. “Your turn now,” she said.
As she took her seat, I murmured, “Well executed.”
Zack leaned forward in his chair, and it was clear from the beginning he was operating in full courtroom mode. “I’ll get right to it,” he said. “I know some of you already, and I hope to know the rest of you soon. I’ve just begun my appraisal of the company, but I have rectified one situation that concerned me. Thirty percent of Living Skies stock was owned by Murray2193, a New York company with a questionable reputation. My wife, my daughter and I purchased the stock this morning, so Living Skies is once again wholly Canadian owned.