by Mia Caldwell
CHAPTER TWO
After the first few weeks in that damn bed, Lissa knew with a sickening certainty that there was no way a hospital would ever be a comfortable place. She’d tried and tried, but no matter what you did, within the strict guidelines set by the hospital, it remained bleak and nerve-wracking. Part of her desperately wanted to hire someone to paint the walls bright red or something else outrageous. Not that she particularly cared for red walls, but it would shake off the monotony of the place.
Of course the room was meant for sick people. It was a place for taking care of those who needed care.
Lissa needed care, but she wasn’t sick. Even her doctor admitted she was healthy as a horse, assuming the horse was unable to get up off its back, had to lie with its feet in the air, was forced to eat hospital food, and was pregnant with triplets.
Yeah, that kind of horse. Huge-bellied with more kids than she thought possible. Just not sick, except for being sick of the damn hospital.
Her care was all precautionary stuff. She could’ve gotten a bed at home that would be just as uncomfortable and hired a cook and avoided the abysmal hospital food, but the doctor insisted that she needed to be monitored, in case she went into labor. And being in bed all the time, she needed nurses to make sure she didn’t get bedsores or blood clots. So everything that was being done was to keep bad things from happening.
And the doctor insisted she had to be in the hospital. Hell, if she went home she’d miss out on having her blood pressure and heart rate on permanent display. Who’d want to miss out on all that? Besides her.
She was doing it for the babies. Once she’d decided that she could see herself as a mother, everything became about the babies, especially since there were three of the little tykes. The doctor suggested “reducing” the pregnancy, but that was basically aborting one to let her body take better care of the survivors. That didn’t sit well with her. No, it was all or nothing, and she wouldn’t consider nothing.
They were six months along and she didn’t know their sex. She didn’t want to know. A large sign pasted on the door served as a reminder: “Mention the sex of the patient’s children and die!” it said. Even so, twice now she’d had candy-stripers almost blurt it out. She managed to stop them before she had to order their execution, but she had no serious hope that the babies would come to term, or however close they got, before some overeager do-gooder would decide that she HAD to know.
Lissa liked surprises. She also liked that refusing to learn the sex annoyed people who made other people’s business their own. She was getting her fair share of surprises. First her lover had disappeared, more or less. At any rate he’d become unreachable. The triplets were the next surprise—they counted as two, in fact. First, there had been finding out that she was pregnant, and then learning that happiness came in threes, at least in her case.
“I always thought I might have several children,” she told her sister, Joan. “I just didn’t expect they’d all come the same day.”
“You never do things the way other people do,” Joan said. “It’s endearing.”
The discomfort didn’t bother her as much as she expected. Having her hands ripped from the day-to-day events in her life, being unable to take part in her business, bothered her more. She didn’t care that much about doing the routine things, but that was how you monitored your business. Now she had to run it by remote. She couldn’t grow it that way, but at least she needed to keep it afloat until she could get back to it.
So it was boredom that made her smile when she saw Tina Peters opening her door. She was delighted to see her…and she didn’t even like Tina all that much.
“Tina! Come in, sit down, bring me up to date.”
Tina was an elegant blonde, carefully coiffed, well dressed in a business suit that was very feminine and all business, and a face that was all smiles, most of which Lissa thought were fake. They looked phony as a three-dollar bill.
Tina took a chair. “You relax, Lissa. Things are under control.”
The smiles and assurances made Lissa uneasy. You didn’t hire people because you wanted friends, but to grow the business, to make it run smoothly. She knew Tina to be a hard but capable woman. She was efficient. Being honestly friendly wasn’t her thing. She hadn’t paid it much attention before, but now she was seeing Tina the way her clients did. Tina was trying to impress her, and the smiley show was unsettling. Serious clients weren’t fooled by smiles any more than she was.
“Great, good news. But what things are under control?”
“Everything.”
“That’s not an answer, Tina. I need specifics. What are you controlling? Which accounts are you working on? I don’t want assurances, I want—I need—details: tedious, picky, nagging, and niggling details.”
“Tomorrow I have a meeting with Tom Acker about a project in Europe.”
“Tina, that is a generalization… What project? Where in Europe? Where are you meeting him? What’s our role?”
Tina scowled. “You are supposed to be taking it easy.”
“And how can I do that when I have no information? How do I relax when I don’t know what’s going on?”
“You’re impossible to please, Lissa. I’m running things in your place and they are going smoothly. Do you want me to do that or prepare reports and make presentations to you? I can’t realistically do both. If you insist on running things from a hospital bed…” she cocked her head, “with your head below your womb, apparently, then you need someone else.”
“Look, Tina, I’m not trying to micromanage you. I do appreciate what you are doing. You’ve stepped up and are keeping the business going. It’s just that I can’t put my mind on pause for three months. I don’t know how. I’m stuck here all day with no connection to the world but the visits you and my sister make. I need juicy business problems to tackle. It’s my body that’s confined to bed, not my brain.”
Tina sighed. “Okay. I’ll tell you what, I’ll give you something to work on. Acker’s proposal needs work. I’ll messenger over what he’s given me and my notes, and I’d appreciate any ideas you have. Tomorrow we are just meeting to discuss a general association—the mechanics of how we will work together, and it would be nice to be able to tell him he will have a full-blown Lissa Edwards proposal once we move along.”
“Yes! Okay, Tina, that would be wonderful.”
“Then I can deal with the rest as I see fit?”
“Yes. I suppose you’ll have to.”
The woman stood up. “Then I better get back. The staff is running some background checks on Acker and his past work. All I know about him is what’s been in the press. I’d better know more than that before I meet him, or I won’t know what buttons to push. If I screw up, my boss will chew my ass out. She’s tough.”
“You bet she will. So get that document over here first thing. And send the laptop from my office too. It has some things on it I want to check.”
Tina looked uncomfortable. “I suppose so.”
“I’m going to need my laptop to write out my feedback, that feedback of mine that you’d be so delighted to have.”
“Okay.” A question appeared on the woman’s face, hanging there, waiting for gravity or something to dislodge it. Finally it came off. “What about after the birth? Will you come right back to work? Work from home? What will you do then?”
“When I decide, I’ll let you know.” Lissa smiled to herself. She wasn’t being gruff, she simply hadn’t thought about it. Being pregnant had seemed unreal. Being her was unreal. Having the babies was unreal. Things would get real soon enough, though. And she hadn’t begun to think about it.
When she left, Lissa watched after her. It took a moment to realize she was trying to analyze the unsettled feeling she got after each of Tina’s visits. It was vague, a hunch, but she was certain the woman was up to something. Of course, there wasn’t much she could do about it, no matter what it was, and knowing the specifics probably wouldn’t put a brighter face on thing
s. She was stuck. That didn’t keep her from trying to pin it down.
Under normal circumstances, Lissa wasn’t the greatest businessperson in the world; she had a great reputation for her skills with analysis, but running a business involved more than that. If she were more of a businessperson, someone who promoted themselves, her consultancy would be far bigger. Still, she made good money and was well known, and she’d been involved in enough high-powered negotiations to smell a rat when a dead one was under the table. Like now.
“Your lunch.” She looked up to see a sickeningly cheery candy-striper bringing in a plastic tray.
“I was just thinking of dead rats,” she said. The cheery face improved with a look of puzzlement. As she brought the tray to the bed, Lissa’s quick look at the array of tiny plastic containers told her she wasn’t in for Indian cuisine today.
“That’s my lunch?”
“The pudding is lovely today,” the woman said, sounding like she almost believed it.
“If you say so, although in civilized countries that sort of offering would be considered an affront to all that’s holy.”
“You are so clever,” the woman said.
“Not clever enough to find a way to get a real meal in here,” she said, sighing. She let her thoughts slip away from the noxious tray and to the manner of skullduggery Tina Peters might be engaging in. The topic was no less irritating, but she could at least fantasize chasing Tina through the streets of New York with a bullwhip if her suspicions were correct.
There wasn’t a damn thing she could do about the lunch.
# # #
Lissa lay back, thinking about her business and Tina’s question. It was a good one, and important. How would she deal with things after the babies were born? One baby was trouble enough, and three… She’d need help. Of course, if she applied herself to the work, she could afford to get good help. She’d need to travel, so she would need someone who could travel with her—she wouldn’t leave the children behind.
A nurse came in with a clipboard and a roll-around cart to give her some pills and record her temperature and destroy her train of thought. Hospitals were supposed to be care places, but they were nerve-wracking, with the random interruptions, odd smells, and immutable routines that seemed organized to prevent a patient from having more than ten minutes to think at a stretch.
After the nurse came a phone call. Lissa answered impatiently, but it was Tyler Walker, and her bad mood disappeared. Tyler was always cheerful and supportive. “How is my favorite economist?” he asked.
“Still pregnant.”
“That tends to be a stable situation for a period of time, I understand. It’s fairly classic. The mature female begins production, which is stable, followed by a brief period of unsustainable productivity, followed by a fallow phase.”
“With most things you can substitute capital or labor for time.”
“Ah yes, the irrefutable logic of the indifference curve analysis you love so much.”
“Babies don’t seem to get the logic of production models, unfortunately.”
“It’s a fixed and closed system. Something like betting at a race track. I’m afraid all the multivariate optimization in the world won’t save you.”
“Damn.”
“Have you heard about the big project in Milan?” Tyler asked.
“Tina mentioned something about a project Tom Acker wants some help with in Europe. She said it was big.”
There was a pause as Tyler seemed to choose his words. “It isn’t exactly the kind of thing Tom does that well.”
Lissa tried to sit up straighter in the bed. “What do you mean?”
“Tom doesn’t like Europe or the way they do things. If he gets it, he’ll make it American.”
“Is that bad?”
“Not always. Don’t get me wrong, Tom is a fine businessman and well organized. This is for a business complex that is intended to attract major high-tech companies across the EU. He’d bring it in on time and it won’t collapse the next week or anything, and he’ll probably have the lowest bid, but it will either be a clone of Silicon Valley or some variation on a strip-mall theme. It will fail aesthetically. I hope you get involved with the project, but if it’s with Tom, well, you’d be tarred with the same brush. I wouldn’t like to see that.”
Tyler stopped talking. Lissa heard the hum of the monitors.
“I appreciate your concern,” she said at last.
Tyler spoke, his voice almost sad and accusing. “You know how I feel about you, Lissa.”
“The presents you’ve sent, the flowers, the kids’ toys… I get the message, Tyler.” Lissa was suddenly very tired.
“I’m here for you,” Tyler said. It was almost an accusation.
Lissa sighed. “Right now I’m stuck here for my babies. Then I need to rebuild my business.”
“Is it falling down?” Tyler meant to be funny, but Lissa could her the concern in his voice. She suddenly didn’t want to keep things to herself anymore. She didn’t love Tyler, but she trusted him. “I don’t know, Tyler. Maybe not falling down, but there’s a crack in the foundation. I feel like there’s something Tina isn’t telling me. Something stinks.”
Tyler laughed. “You’re in the hospital. Everything stinks. Do you want me to poke my nose into things that are none of my business? Would you like me to pay attention to the industry gossip and see what lies and prevarications are floating about that might concern you?”
“Would you?”
“I’d be delighted to. I have a meeting with Tom next week myself. He loves to talk about his deals, who is using whom, and so on, and usually which ones he’s screwing. Just let me know how much salacious details appeal to you. I have other friends in low places I can count on to pass along any manner of unreliable rumors and innuendo.”
“That’s perfect, Tyler. I’ll owe you.”
“You owe me nothing at all, Lissa. Not one damn thing.”
The serious sound of his voice, its flatness, reminded her of the one uncomfortable part of dealing with Tyler Walker. The man was lovely, charming, and successful. He was also madly in love with her, and yet he didn’t stir anything even vaguely romantic in her. She’d told him. It wouldn’t have been fair to lead him on, and he had decided that it was all right for him to love her unilaterally. “I can live with unrequited love,” he told her. “Please just allow me to express it once in a while as a form of self-pity, and we can keep our glorious friendship.”
So far they had. Every so often, however, such as now, it made her feel guilty. She took advantage of him. He wanted her to, and would be hurt if she didn’t, but the one-sidedness of it bothered her.
CHAPTER THREE
Tina Peters met Tom Acker for lunch at a new French restaurant downtown. It was a perfect spot for her purposes. The place itself was elegant, and well regarded. Best of all, it was high profile. She would be seen having a meal with Acker. That would raise her stock. With a little luck, the society blogs might take note, but that would be icing on the cake.
The timing was perfect. “This Milan deal is in its early stages and it is huge,” he told her. “There is money to be made. If you are ready and willing.”
Tina was more than ready and willing. She’d worked under Lissa’s yoke far too long. Until she went in the hospital, Tina had never gotten the chance to show what she could do. Lissa came up as an analyst. She knew econometrics and detailed analysis—data collection and crunching and interpretation. That was all well and good, but Tina knew how to deal with the players, how to run a company and make it glamorous. A consultancy was supposed to hear what the client said and help them do whatever they wanted. If they wanted analysis, well, economists came cheap. She could hire all she needed to provide those detailed reports clients loved so much.
Lissa never saw the upside potential of getting into more of a partnership with her clients. She liked her independence and working on a variety of jobs. Tina wanted to become integral to a development team and ra
ke in the bucks. Lissa was happy to consult, do her analysis, show the clients better solutions and move on. Sure, she’d be panting to get in on the Milan deal, but then what? For Tina, that wasn’t the way to become high profile and make big money, the kind of money someone like Tom Acker had. He was a billionaire on his own with access to even more money.
She’d arrived late and found him waiting for her, dressed in an elegant suit. He was a dashing sixty years old, incredibly fit, with silver hair. When she came to the table he stood to greet her, kissing her cheek and complimenting her on her dress. It was a sexy dress. The nice thing about business meetings in a fancy place like this was that overdressing was acceptable, even encouraged. It was business, but…
She accepted a drink and let him waft their conversation through a few conversational niceties, before getting to the subject at hand. “I doubt you’ve had a chance to read the prospectus closely,” he said, “but I thought some initial talks might be helpful.”
“Other than the amount of money involved, I don’t understand what is special about this project,” she said. “It’s a business center. You’ve done several of those.”
“I’ve talked to a couple of the directors, and besides spending their money wisely to get an infrastructure that will serve them for a number of years, there are political issues. The EU is stumbling and they see this center as a way to attract EU businesses and companies who want a presence in the EU. Architecturally and operationally, they want to combine the efficiency of an American high-tech campus with a very European aesthetic. So Lissa’s analysis techniques will be important in putting together a coherent bid.”
“I can get you any analysis you want, Tom.”
“Will Lissa be coming back to work in time?”
“If not, we can get…”
“I really need Lissa. If nothing else, I want to make certain she isn’t working for anyone else.”