The waiter brought the check and Nick paid with his credit card. “Ready for some laughs?” Nick asked.
“Yes! I heard that Bob Marley is really funny. And more than a little dirty too.”
“I hope you’re not easily offended.”
“Are you kidding? I have three older brothers. I think I’ve heard every raunchy joke that exists. Bob Marley can’t surprise me.”
*****
Two hours later they left the comedy club.
“I take back my earlier comments,” said Devon. “Those were some of the dirtiest jokes I’ve ever heard. His stories about growing up in Maine were hysterical. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so hard.” Devon reached down and put her hand inside Nick’s.
Nick felt a shock of electricity jolt through his body and his pulse quickened.
“Me either.” It had been a long time since Nick felt an emotion like this. He squeezed Devon’s hand lightly. “I’m glad you enjoyed the show.”
The drive back to Devon’s condo was too brief. Nick wondered whether he should kiss her goodnight.
As they approached Devon’s front stairs, she spoke. “I really had a great time, Nick.” She stepped up on the first step and turned towards him. Now they were almost the same height. Devon’s head was slightly tilted.
“So did I.” He leaned forward and brushed her lips with his own. Devon’s mouth opened slightly and she wrapped her arms around Nick’s shoulders, pulling him closer.
Nick felt like a teenager again. Tingling sensations flowed through his body. He pressed his chest against Devon and moved his hands to her lower back. Devon’s tongue flicked against Nick’s teeth, seeking deeper entry. Nick obliged.
Suddenly, Devon pulled back.
“My, oh my,” she said as much to herself as to Nick. “Who would have thought a government employee could be such a good kisser? I better get inside before you seek permanent resident status.”
Nick laughed. “Can I see you again?”
“You’ll see me Monday at the office, won’t you?” Devon teased.
“I mean, I mean…” Nick stuttered.
Devon pressed her finger to his lips. “I know what you mean, Nick. Yes, you can see me again.” She leaned forward and gave him a brief kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Make it soon, okay?”
“I promise.”
Nick waited until Devon was safely inside her place before returning to his car. As he drove back to Southie, a mix of testosterone and adrenaline flowed through his body. He had feared he’d never experience this feeling again.
“Get control of yourself, pal,” he said to himself, knocking his knuckles against his head like one of the Stooges. “It was just a first date.”
But the feeling was great.
Chapter 35
Wednesday, November 12
Harry got to the office early. He had spent the previous day with Jeremy and Sandy at a variety of hospital appointments. But it made his to-do list for today even longer, and he tried to organize his day in his head.
Check with Kevin Jacobs regarding the shareholder calls they’d been receiving on Sierra Health. Update Kaspar on the SEC investigation. Have lunch with Nora at 12:30 and get her to understand. And most importantly, stay in close contact with Sandy on the status of Jeremy’s chemotherapy treatment.
Harry’s phone was ringing with a call from home as he entered his office. “Hi Sandy, what’s up?”
“I just got off the phone with the adoption agency. The administrator confirmed that Jeremy’s adoption records were lost in the fire.” Sandy’s voice caught. “What do we do now, Harry?”
“God, I don’t know. I’ll speak to Sister Catherine again. Maybe I can jog her memory somehow.”
“There has to be something else she can tell us about Jeremy’s birth mother. Or there must be someone else we can talk to from the agency who was around when he was adopted.” Her voice was becoming shriller with each word.
“Try to stay calm, Sandy. It won’t help Jeremy if we panic.”
Sandy took a deep breath. “I know. But we need information.”
“I’ll call the nursing home today. Maybe Sister Catherine remembered something else.”
“Let me know. I need to get Jeremy ready for the hospital.”
“Good luck. Give him a hug for me. Keep me posted on know how he’s doing.”
Harry hung up, and immediately dialed Kevin Jacobs, looking for an update on the shareholder calls.
“The news isn’t good.” Jacobs sighed deeply. “We’ve had complaints from 254 shareholders, out of the 802 accounts that were adjusted. We had to re-issue those statements with corrections. At approximately $2,000 per account, that means that we have lost almost thirty percent of the adjustment, or a little over $500,000 dollars. I don’t know how we can make up that difference.”
Harry rubbed his jaw like he’d been hit with a left hook. He was shocked – this was much worse than he had anticipated. The management team had hoped that no more than fifty shareholders would complain. But they had badly underestimated their shareholders’ diligent scrutiny of their monthly statements.
“Do you have any flexibility in the budget to make up the difference?” Harry asked.
“Like I told you before, Harry, I don’t hold that kind of money aside for accounting issues. I couldn’t make up more than ten to fifteen percent of the discrepancy. About fifty to seventy-five thousand.”
Harry thought about the call he’d make to Kaspar later in the day. This information wasn’t going to be well-received. “How many more shareholders do you believe will call? Have we seen the worst of it?”
“The statements went out about a week ago. Most shareholders probably review them within the first couple of days. Some might save it for the end of the first week. At this point, I think we’ve seen the worst of it. I don’t expect to get more than another ten to fifteen calls.”
“Okay, so let’s assume we get ten more complaints,” Harry replied. That would bring the total to 264 accounts that require fixing. The fix will cost 528 thousand dollars. If you can come up with seventy-five thousand from internal budget sources, that leaves about 450 thousand from other sources. Like bonuses. That’s bad, but it could be worse.”
“Yeah, it could have been the full 3.4 million,” said Jacobs sarcastically. “That would have been a catastrophe.”
Harry thought about the SEC investigators sniffing around. He was very concerned, but didn’t want to let on as much to Jacobs.
“Let’s hope this is the end of it. Thanks, Kevin. Let me know if anything changes in the next couple of days.”
Harry hung up and leaned back in his chair, thinking about how to approach Kaspar.
He’s going to be ballistic.
One solution would be for the management team to accept smaller bonuses this year. That would suck, but it might get them past the immediate crisis.
Of course, Harry thought wryly, it will all be pointless if the SEC gets wind of the statement adjustments.
Next on his agenda was a call to the nursing home. He dialed the number, identified himself, and asked to speak with Sister Catherine. The receptionist put his call through to the second floor nurse’s station.
The nurse who answered told Harry that Sister Catherine was napping.
“Great,” Harry groaned.
“Mr. Wainright, didn’t you visit the Sister yesterday?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Thought so. I was chatting with her last night around bedtime. The Sister told me that she enjoyed your visit. She also said that she had forgotten to tell you something – something about a Christmas card that she received from ‘Jeremy’s mother’. Do you understand what she was referring to?”
“Yes, Jeremy is my adopted son.” Harry felt a small measure of hope. “What about the Christmas card?”
“Sister Catherine said she probably saved the card and the envelope it came in. She always saved letters from the families. She thought it might ha
ve a return address that could help you find the person you’re looking for.”
Harry’s heart leaped. “Really? Did she say where the card might be?”
“Yes. It would be in her old office, in one of the metal filing cabinets. She told me there’s a reason that she remembers this one card. It was different from most of the others.”
“What made this card so unusual?’
“The birth mother wrote a nice note, and in it she mentioned Jeremy by name.”
“Okay,” Harry said hesitantly, still not catching on.
“Well, Sister said it’s very unusual for the mother to know the name of the adopted child. It’s just one of those things that is not communicated to the birth mother. There’s a concern that the mother will have more difficulty detaching from the baby if she associates a name with the child. Sister Catherine doesn’t know how the mother could have known Jeremy’s name.”
“That is strange. We’ve never had any communication with the mother. Maybe someone else at the adoption agency mentioned it?”
“That’s highly unlikely. The adoption agency has very strict policies about stuff like that.”
Harry was puzzled. Then a thought came to him. “Sister Catherine told me that the fire which destroyed the adoption records was believed to be arson. Maybe the fire was set to deflect attention from something that was stolen during the break-in. Maybe adoption records were taken, and then the fire was set.”
“I guess that’s possible,” the nurse replied. She was losing interest in the conversation. “Is there anything else, Mr. Wainright? I need to check on a couple of residents.”
“No, that’s all. Thanks for your time.” Harry hung up the phone. He needed to find that damn Christmas card.
*****
Harry tried to focus on paperwork for the rest of the morning, but his upcoming lunch with Nora kept invading his thoughts. He had to make her understand that Jeremy’s health was his sole focus. But at the same time, his concern about Nora’s mental stability was growing. She acted as if she was entitled to a relationship with him and Harry wasn’t sure why. He glanced at his Rolex. It was time to go. He dropped off some analysis reports with his admin, and hustled to the elevator. He reached for the door just as it was closing. Standing inside, with a scowl on his face, was Kaspar.
“Wainright,” he growled. “When am I getting my damn update?”
Harry tried to recover from his surprise at finding himself trapped with him.
“Hi Kaspar. I planned to call you later today. I spoke with Kevin Jacobs earlier this morning to get a status.”
“You have my undivided attention now. Give it to me.” Kaspar crossed his arms and stared at Harry.
Harry took a deep breath and quickly decided to lay it on the line.
“Jacobs said that about 250 shareholders have questioned the adjustment. Those accounts had to be re-adjusted to reflect the correct purchase date. That means that we’re about $400,000 short.”
Harry waited for the explosion.
Kaspar said nothing. He just glared at Harry. His mouth opened and closed, as if he was chomping on a cigar.
“What was your bonus last year, Wainright?”
Harry looked at his shoes. “Just under 1.4.” Harry knew he didn’t need to add the word ‘million’ to that statement.
“Here’s a thought,” Kaspar said sarcastically. “Why don’t we subtract 400K from your bonus this year? Then the company will be even. How does that sound?”
Harry wasn’t sure what to say. He knew Kaspar was likely just blowing off steam. At least he hoped that was the case.
“Better yet, let’s cancel your bonus all together. Then the firm will actually be ahead of the game.”
Harry decided to try reasoning with him. “Kaspar, I think we can come up with a fair solution. If the management team takes a bonus reduction that totaled the shortfall, then everybody would share in the pain, but no single person would take a huge hit.”
“Am I part of the management team, Harry? Do you expect me to take a hit too?” Kaspar’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Well…”
“Don’t bother answering. I already know this issue won’t be impacting me.”
The elevator doors opened and Kaspar stormed out. Harry was left standing there like a bride at the altar.
“Are you getting off?” asked someone waiting to go up.
Harry mumbled, “Sure thing,” as he moved through the doors and headed across the lobby.
The deli was just around the corner from the office. As he approached the door, Harry saw Nora sitting at a table watching him. She smiled and waved when she caught his eye.
“Here we go,” Harry said under his breath as he approached the table. He approached the table. “Hi Nora.”
“Hi Harry. It’s good to see you.” She reached out to grasp his hand.
Harry moved his hand away and gestured towards the counter. “Let’s order.” Harry got a pastrami sandwich, and Nora ordered a Caesar salad. They sat back down at their table, but Harry was too tense to eat.
“Nora, listen. I’ve tried to explain to you that we can’t be together. I’m not sure what else I can say to get my point across.” Harry picked up the half dill pickle that came with his sandwich and took a small bite.
Nora shook her head. “I get it, Harry. You’re worried about Jeremy. He’s sick and you need to be there for him.”
Harry felt a huge wave of relief wash over him. “That’s right, Nora. Jeremy needs to be my focus now.”
“But Sandy doesn’t need to be.” Nora reached out and this time grabbed both of Harry’s hands. “We can be together, Harry. You and me and Jeremy.” Nora looked at Harry with anticipation.
Harry was aghast. How could this woman think that she could just step in and replace Sandy? How could she believe that he would just agree with her and make it happen? He shook his head. He wished now he had picked a private place to have this discussion. This was going to get ugly.
“Nora, I can’t do that. Sandy is Jeremy’s mother. He’d be devastated if I left her now. You’re not thinking clearly.” Harry thought he had entered the Twilight Zone.
“Harry, I have it all figured out. We can get a place together. You can just leave the big house to Sandy. We can be a family. I know that it’ll work.” Nora’s eyes were glowing with thoughts of a happy future.
“No, Nora. That isn’t going to happen. Look, I’ve tried to be compassionate. I’ve tried to not hurt your feelings. But you need to stop this. I’ve made a decision to stay with Jeremy and Sandy.” Harry emphasized his wife’s name to make his point.
Nora sat stock still. Her eyes searched Harry’s face for any sign of relenting. After a few moments, Nora pursed her lips.
“You’re making a mistake, Harry. We’re meant to be together. I know you’ll eventually see it my way. I’m a better mother for Jeremy. I’m going to show you.” Nora stood up abruptly and rushed from the delicatessen, bumping into an elderly woman and causing her to drop the tray that she had been carrying.
Harry got up to help with the mess.
“I’m so sorry,” Harry said to the lady. He helped her to her table, and picked up the tray from the floor. “My friend had an emergency,” he lied. “That’s why she left in such a hurry. Let me buy you a new lunch.”
Harry got the lady settled, bought her a second lunch, and then returned to the office. He realized he had to find Nora before she did something dangerous or stupid.
What a fucking mess.
Chapter 36
Wednesday, November 12
Nick sat at his scarred government-issue desk, lost in thought. Since his date with Devon on Saturday he’d found it difficult to focus on anything but their evening together. He had learned several things about her during the date that surprised him. She was a huge country music fan, and had been since she spent a summer in Texas with her aunt when she was sixteen. He also learned that Devon wanted to be a dancer when she was young. She stu
died ballet until she was twelve, but then realized the commitment of time and money was too great.
Nick had spent the rest of the weekend trying to find something exciting for their second date - which he hoped would be the following weekend. He had scoured the Sunday paper to find some ideas, but nothing had met the bill. He was beginning to panic a bit.
Maybe I should ask Devon what she’d like to do? She might like to be asked.
Nick had just returned his attention to the summary he’d drafted for his boss when his phone rang.
Speak of the devil, he thought, as he picked up the receiver—it was Pete Mitchell, his boss. “Hi Pete. I’m just finishing the write up on the Jordano investigation. What’s up?’
Pete Mitchell sounded out of breath. “I just got off the phone with the Deputy Director in Washington. He’s approved immunity for the Jordano informant.” Mitchell took a gulp of air. “Blanket immunity.”
“Wow,” Nick said, switching the phone from his right to his left hand so that he could take notes if necessary. “I didn’t think blanket immunity would be an option.”
“Me either. But the senior brass really wants to press forward with the investigation, so they’re throwing caution to the wind.”
Blanket immunity meant that the informer would be exempt from all prosecutions related to the Jordano matter. It was very unusual and rarely granted.
“The paperwork is being prepared and will be sent via FedEx by tomorrow afternoon. Then we can approach him with the deal.” Mitchell sounded more excited than he had for years.
“That should help to loosen his tongue,” Nick replied. “He can’t expect to get a better deal.”
Secretly, Nick wondered why the SEC would choose to grant blanket immunity when they knew so little about the informant. He thought it might have to do with Kaspar Jordano—it was common knowledge that the CEO was a prick. He’d burnt many bridges with his confrontational, take no prisoners style. Maybe this was payback.
“Let’s hope so,” Mitchell replied. “I want to get the ball rolling immediately. We’ll coordinate with the state Attorney General’s office. They’ll play an important role in assessing the information that the informant provides, and they’ll need to file all the appropriate paperwork for legal charges. I’ve been in touch with Sarah Monetti, the deputy AG. She’ll be leading the effort. I’ve worked with her before. She’s tough and very good.”
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