Call Me Lydia

by MaryAnn Myers

"Yes, very," Lydia said. "I've been able to reconstruct most of the day-to-day items, thanks to the sales' copies of purchase orders, and have a pretty fair grasp of payables and receivables, but I...."

  "You're saying you have nothing as far as receipts and invoices?"

  "Zip!"

  Mr. Martin snorted. "Then how...?"

  "Well, to coin an old phrase," Lydia said, "we've been going along one day at a time. And so far, tomorrow has always come."

  Mr. Martin sighed sympathetically. "What about the check ledgers?"

  "They only go back about five weeks."

  "How's your cash situation?"

  "In a word, shitty! I fudged payroll last week, and I'm barely making this one."

  "Let me check my schedule, hold on."

  Lydia tapped her fingers while she waited.

  "Did you want to meet here? Or at your office?"

  "Here would be better, that way I'll have everything," Lydia said, laughing. "Boy, is that a joke!"

  Mr. Martin chuckled. "How about next Thursday at ten?"

  "Perfect. I'll try to be here." Lydia lowered her voice so Sylvia couldn't hear. "But if the parking lot's empty, consider us history."

  Lydia made a list of additional printouts she wanted run off, then went down to the cafeteria for something to eat: a Coke, two bags of chips, and three candy bars. Walking back with them, she noticed Tony talking to one of the lathe operators just off the main aisle. She waited for him to look up and waved him over.

  "Want to share my lunch with me?"

  Tony shook his head, smiling at what she called lunch. "No, that's okay, I'll pass. But I do need to talk to you."

  A wave of anxiety came over Lydia. "Not about the car, I hope, because if it is...."

  ` Tony shook his head, indicating it wasn't, and they walked up to the conference room side by side, but with some distance between them, a very conscious distance, and sat down across from each other. Lydia proceeded to open the Coke, both bags of chips, one plain and one barbecue, and all three candy bars, sampling each as she went along. Tony just watched her, amused by this.

  "So what did you want to talk about?" she asked.

  Tony shifted his weight to make his knee more comfort­able. "I wanted you to know I took care of my bail," he said. "I mailed a check to your father."

  "Oh, didn't like me having a hold on you, huh?"

  Tony smiled. "No, that's not it. Not entirely."

  Lydia studied his eyes. They seemed to belong to her.

  "And now more than ever," he said, reaching over and touching her arm lightly, "I want to know when you come and go. Okay?"

  ` Lydia nodded. "Okay."

  Reed came in then, carrying an armful of printouts from accounting, and put them down on the table between them, handing Lydia some phone messages.

  ` "Those are from Jan," he said. "She didn't want to disturb you earlier."

  Lydia glanced through them, then laid them aside and sat back, looking at Tony again. He smiled, a private intimate kind of smile, then she smiled, and Reed pulled up a chair.

  "I've been trying to get a hold of Bob Miller all day," he said, fully aware he was interrupting something. "But I'm not having any luck."

  Lydia reluctantly pulled her eyes away from Tony to respond. "Dad said he talked to him yesterday, so he must be back in town."

  "Well I wish he'd take my call then," Reed said. "I was hoping to use those quotes as a way of getting in to meet him."

  Lydia made a face. "Meet him? Don't worry, you're not missing much."

  Reed smiled, using some of her logic. "But I was wonder­ing what he looked like."

  Lydia laughed. "He's late fifties, early sixties, and nice-looking I guess, tall and in good shape for his age." She trailed off, thinking. "But you know, you just made a good point. We need to use everything we've got."

  ` Reed exchanged a puzzled glance with Tony.

  "Yeah," she said, as much to herself as them. “We need to beef things up."

  "What do you mean?" Reed asked.

  "From here on in, for however long we have left, we need to move ahead. Let's get prospective customers in here and show them the place. Dad's always boasted of having one of the most impressive shops he's ever seen, let’s show it off."

  Tony sat back with his arms crossed, smiling, and for the first time, Lydia read him perfectly.

  "All right," she said. "So I do have another motive. I want whoever's harassing me to know they haven't gotten to me. Is there anything wrong with that?"

  Tony shook his head, still smiling. For most of the after­noon, he'd feared they had gotten to her and was relieved to see now that maybe they hadn't.

  Lydia read this too, at least the gist of it, and smiled to reassure him, even fooling herself, and turned to Reed. "Let's get Bob Miller over here."

  `"Why?" he asked.

  "I don't know. Not exactly, at least. I just know that we have to start with him. Like it or not, we need him, and since we need to begin somewhere…."

  "I know, but like I was saying, I've been trying to reach him all day, so…."

  "Oh, Reed," Lydia said. "You just don't have the right bait." She draped her arm across her breasts. "The man's a fool for them. And I have this theory about a foolish man."

  Reed smiled. He too was a foolish man, admittedly so.

  "I'll get him over here," Lydia said, picking up the phone. "And we'll go from there."

  Reed just loved these antics of hers and couldn't wait to hear what she was going to say. But not Tony. He stood up and walked out, leaving Lydia somewhat bewildered. Reed sud­denly realized what Tony had been trying to tell him earlier. There was a difference in how the two of them saw Lydia. A big difference. He enjoyed the way she used everything and anything to her advantage, and wished he had the power to do the same. Tony, on the other hand, didn't, and wouldn't even stick around to watch.

  Lydia was put right through. "Bob, I'm so glad I caught you."

  "I am too. I was just about to leave."

  "Can you come here?" Lydia said, in her best little girl voice. "I need your help desperately."

  "What seems to be the problem?"

  Lydia took a deep breath, guessing at what he'd like to hear. "Well for one, I think I'm finding out that running a company isn't all that easy after all. For me at least."

  "Now, now...maybe you're just being a little hard on yourself."

  "Maybe. I don't know." Lydia looked at Reed, imitating a fisherman reeling one in. "But what I really need is a strong shoulder to lean on and some experienced advice. Everyone here seems to be working against me. I don't have a friend in the whole place." No sooner said, than she wondered what prompted her to say such a thing. Whatever, it seemed effec­tive, because Bob responded accordingly.

  "Well, I did have plans for the evening, but I think I can postpone them. I'll be over in about an hour. Perhaps we can have a late dinner."

  "Perhaps," Lydia said. "I'll see you then." She hung up and sat back, shivering. "Dinner? Yeah right. I'd rather die first."

  Reed looked puzzled.

  "The man nauseates me," she said. "He always has."

  Reed shook his head, marveling. He'd have never guessed, to hear her on the phone. "How can you be so nice to him then?"

  Lydia just stared for a second, as if she had to think about that, not at all proud. "I don't know. But come on, let's go get Jan. We've got a lot to do before he gets here."

  A half-hour later, her old office had undergone a transfor­mation. "I want to give a definite impression," she'd told Jan, and Jan went to work.

  It was a mess. There were magazines strewn about, a bar had been set up, a portable television sat strategically on the corner of the desk, some empty Coke cans dotted the window sill, half-empty, muddy-looking cups of coffee were here and there, not to mention stacks of papers and open files in complete disarray. Jan had added the finishing touches while Lydia went to freshen her makeup and comb her hair. "What do you think?" Jan asked, when
she returned.

  "It's perfect!" Lydia said.

  Reed smiled, agreeing. "It does look…what was the look you wanted?"

  "Spent," Lydia said, chuckling. "And I'd say it definitely looks, spent."

  Jan looked around, admiring her own handiwork. "Will there be anything else?"

  Lydia thought for a moment. "Yes, when he's here, I want you to act like you don't like me."

  Jan looked as if that would be impossible. "How?"

  Lydia smiled. They'd come so far in such a short time. "Think about how I used to drive you crazy when I first came, and that tsk-tsk look you used to give me all the time."

  Jan blushed a little, laughing, saying she'd see what she could do, and when she left, Lydia headed straight for the Scotch.

  "Where was all this booze at?"

  "In your father's office," Reed said, sitting down to watch her. "You sure you want to do that?"

  Lydia held up her glass. "Have a drink? Yeah, I'm sure. It's the only way I'm gonna get through this - you don't know this guy."

  Reed smiled. She'd combed her hair back off her face, which accented the curve of her cheekbones and the delicateness of her skin, and she was wearing more makeup than usual, which gave her eyes a sultry look. "You are absolutely incredible looking, Lydia," he said. "Absolutely incredible."

  Lydia rolled her eyes and walked over and sat down behind the desk. She never took compliments well, let alone now, when she was feeling so ugly inside. "Think I can get half a rise out of a duty old man?"

  "Definitely!"

  Lydia sipped her drink. "Well then, I guess we should go over the game plan."

  "That would be nice," Reed said, recalling how in the dark she'd kept him when they went to see Julius Randall. "What do you have in mind?"

  "Well, my part'll be simple enough, I guess."

  "Which is...?"

  "Playing the femme fatale."

  Reed could hardly wait. "And mine?"

  "Yours is to get him out of here, so I don't have to deal with him."

  Reed laughed. "Come on. Seriously?"

  "I'm being serious. Get him out of here and play on his sympathies. Act like you're fed up with me too."

  "Why?"

  Lydia shrugged. "I don't know, but I picked up on some­thing when I was talking to him. It was when I mentioned how everyone here was working against me, so I think we should go with that."

  Reed nodded and sat there for a second or two, wondering if she was nervous, and started getting nervous himself. He reached for her drink, took a sip, and handed it back, making an awful face.

  "God! How can you drink it like that?" Straight. "It tastes like lighter fluid."

  Lydia smiled. "I know, but it has such a buffering effect."

  "That kind of thinking can be dangerous, you know."

  "Yeah, well so's walking across the street, eating bacon, and falling in love."

  Reed shook his head, smiling. Such logic. And so very sure of herself. "So, um, how am I supposed to get Miller out of here?"

  Lydia downed the rest of her Scotch. "Easy. I'll bow out gracefully, and you suggest going for a drink."

  "What do I do after that?"

  Lydia looked at him. "I don't know, you'll have to decide that as you go along. But I think you should start by blaming me for the way things are going around here. And lay it on thick. Tell him things were bad, but that I'm making it worse."

  "Why?"

  "Why...? Because that's the way people think. It's what they want to hear. Whether it's true or not. Besides, it'll help you feel him out."

  "For what?"

  "I don't know. You're just gonna have to be receptive," Lydia said, getting up and pouring another drink. "I mean, aren't you just a little curious as to how we always seem to keep coming back to the same common denominator?"

  Reed had no idea what she was talking about and won­dered if the Scotch hadn't gone to her head already. "What common denominator?"

  "Mago and Bob Miller. Bob Miller and Mago. Hand­shakes, hands on parts. Bob Miller and his handouts."

  Reed frowned. He didn't see the connection. "How spe­cific should I be about our current situation?"

  "Not very. In fact, say as little as you have to. Remember what you're doing here is feeling him out. Let him do the talking." Lydia sipped her drink. "Don't worry, I'll prime him good for you."

  Reed could hardly wait. "What are you going to do? Specifically, I mean." He didn't want to be shocked like at Forrester.

  Lydia smiled. "Well for starters, I can act like an ass."

  Reed chuckled.

  "Oh? You think that's funny? Well I'll have you know, acting like one is a lot harder than being one."

  Reed laughed.

  "And then we can always stroll him through the shop, where I can really shine. I can say, what's this? What's that? And oh my, what are all these people doing?"

  Reed laughed again, and just about the time he ran down, Lydia fluttered her eyelashes, actually looking like a femme fatale, and he started all over again.

  "Speaking of acting," Lydia said. "Take sex, for example."

  "Okay!" Reed said. "I'll take some!"

  Lydia laughed. "No, seriously. I mean, think about it. How do you know if you're doing it, or if you're just acting like you're doing it? Sure, you were there, but were you really there? Especially when you look back on it?"

  Reed raised his hand above his head. "I don't know, I'm usually right around here. Maybe you're just not doing it right."

  Lydia laughed, sputtering. "You know, you just may have a point there. Greg was always telling me what to do. Kind of like show and tell. Put your hand here! Move this way! Roll over!" She paused, leaning forward. "And let me tell you," she said, "I do playing dead really well."

  The two of them laughed hysterically, adding to that, as tears ran down their cheeks. That's when Jan tapped on the door to let them know that Bob Miller had arrived.

  "He just pulled in."

  Lydia dabbed at her eyes, Reed wiped his face with his handkerchief, and by the time Bob Miller got off the elevator, Lydia was poised at her desk and Reed was out in the hall, ready for a chance encounter.

  "Excuse me, have we met?"

  "No, I don't believe so," Bob said, extending his hand. "I'm Bob Miller from Mago Incorporated."

  ` "It's a pleasure to meet you! I'm Will Reed. What a coincidence! I've been trying to reach you all day. I have some quotes I'd like to…."

  Bob glanced at his watch, interrupting him. "You'll have to excuse me, Lydia's expecting me."

  "She is? She didn't tell me you were coming." Reed said, looking totally put out. "And she knows I've been trying to get a hold of you."

  Bob reacted indifferently to this and started past him, but Reed walked faster and was first through Lydia's door. "You didn't tell me Bob was coming by. I was just about to leave."

  "So go!" Lydia said and looked past him to Bob. "Thank God you're here!"

  Bob smiled, walking across the room, and Lydia braced herself for the kiss she knew would be forthcoming, then motioned to the bar. "A drink?"

  Bob nodded, taking her in from head to toe. "Bourbon, straight. No ice."

  Lydia freshened hers as well and handed Bob his, then turned to Reed, who was sitting down and getting comfortable.

  "I'm not going anywhere," he said, stubbornly. "I was hired by John to do a job, and keeping track of you and what you do is part of it."

  Lydia rolled her eyes, insinuating to Bob he did this type of thing all the time, and was walking over to sit down when Jan came in with the proverbial tsk-tsk scowl on her face, carrying a pizza.

  "Your dinner," she said, putting it down on the desk.

  Lydia opened the box eagerly, and with that, the mood was set. "Care for a piece, Bob?" she asked coyly.

  Bob shook his head, but licked his lips in response to the innuendo, lowering his eyes conspicuously to Lydia's breasts before turning to check Jan out. As Reed sat there, observing this, he dec
ided Lydia was right about Bob. A gentleman he was not. In fact, he had the look of a guy who'd screw a snake if it stood still long enough.

  "What can I help you with, Lydia?"

  "Oh...." Lydia drew a melodramatic breath to begin and managed to kill half an hour, doing her very best to paint as bleak a picture as possible without giving out too many details, animated with plenty of cutesy head tosses and a fair share of worldly smiles, while eating five pieces of pizza.

  Then Reed did his part, suggesting they tour the shop, and with her arm linked around Bob's, they started out. She was in rare form. She'd throw out a comment that didn't make sense; along with one that did, and sounded so convincing she even had Reed believing she only knew half of what she was talking about. Her Scotches and Bob's double bourbons beforehand only added to the lunacy.

  Reed stayed close so as not to miss a thing, and as they started down through production, Lydia spotted Tony and guided them in that direction. He was bent over a machine, trying to dislodge a torn drive belt, and was just about to lose his temper, when he heard them coming. Great timing. He swore under his breath and backed up, wiping his hands on a shop rag as they approached, then just nodded.

  "Well if it isn't Tony Armato," Bob said, in a rather odd tone of voice.

  Tony just stared. A cold stare.

  Lydia hadn't realized they knew each other until now, though it was obvious from their expressions there was no love lost between them. Still, she wondered why Tony hadn't said anything, and it threw her for a moment.

  "Uh...." she stammered, "we're giving Bob a tour of the plant. It's been a while since he's seen our operation, and we wanted to show him the new equipment." In saying this, she leaned into Bob's shoulder, purposely grazing him with the side of her breast.

  Tony started past them, having seen this, but Lydia wasn't done. "Tell me, Tony," she said. "Are all these machines working properly?"

  Tony turned back around and glared at her. He didn't want any part of this, and there could be no doubt of that from the look in his eyes. But what did Lydia do? She leaned into Bob's arm again.

  "You'll have to excuse Tony," she said, with a throaty laugh. "He was obviously born in a bad mood, charming only at times."

  Bob nodded, smiling as if he agreed, and Lydia should have let it go at that. Especially with the way Tony was looking at her now. But she wanted to make a definite impression.