Part 11 (1/2)
”A little under fifty grand.”
Dudley burst out laughing. ”Can you believe anybody actuallysurvives on that kind of salary? Christ, that's minimum wage.”
”It's not that bad, Bob. It isn't the three million you pulled down last year, but she's able to live comfortably. She rents a two-bedroom apartment in the Fan for twelve hundred a month, drives a Saab convertible she bought new a year ago, and vacations in the Caribbean twice a year. She was in Saint Bart's a few weeks ago, and she'll go again in the fall if she follows her pattern of the last four years. She doesn't live extravagantly, and she doesn't have any real expenses as far as her son is concerned. The Reese family takes care of all that.” He paused. ”Oh, and by the way, it's the top drawer.”
Dudley looked up. ”Huh? What is?”
”The drawer she keeps her panties in.”
Dudley flashed a quick smile.
Hill shook his head. ”I know what you're thinking, Bob. If she doesn't work with us on this Jake Lawrence thing, we could threaten her. But she's a talented banker. With her contacts, she'd get another job.”
”Not in Richmond,” Dudley replied confidently. ”There aren't any other big banks with corporate lending operations here in the city anymore now that the Carolina banks have acquired all the other big Richmond houses except us. All the important positions have been moved out of town. Mostly just administration stuff here now. And I could make certain no one in Baltimore, Was.h.i.+ngton, or Charlotte would hire her either. Especially if I let people know that she was fired because she was s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g married men in the bank. Everybody from tellers to Ken Booker.”
Hill gazed at the chairman, then chuckled. ”Bob, I think you might actually give Jake Lawrence a run for his money if the b.a.s.t.a.r.d does decide to launch a hostile bid. I don't think he understands what he's up against, the lengths to which you'll go.”
”I'll take that as a compliment. I'm sure that's how it was intended.”
”Of course-”
”Back to Angela Day.”
”Okay.”
”You see, Carter, shehas to live in or near Richmond,” Dudley said. ”Chuck probably had the judge insert some tough language into the custody order about that. Like if Ms. Day misses more than three consecutive visits with her son, she has constructively abandoned the boy and automatically relinquishes any further rights to visitation unless the Reeses give her specific permission to see the boy-which, of course, they wouldn't.” Dudley smiled, pleased with himself. ”So, we've figured out how to manipulate Ms. Day. Now she'll have to be loyal to me if she was telling us the truth this morning and Jake Lawrence really did try to get into her pants. Even if she can't stand the sight of him, she'll have to do what I want.” Dudley pointed at Hill. ”Next week you will have a conversation with Ms. Day and deliver the gist of what we've just discussed.”
”Bob, I don't think that's necessary. She got the message this morning. If Lawrence contacts her, she'll let us know right away. She seems levelheaded. She knows where her bread is b.u.t.tered.”
”I'm sure Jake Lawrence can be very persuasive,” Dudley said. ”I want Ms. Day to understand exactly how vulnerable she is.”
”Bob, she seems plenty smart. I'm sure she gets it. I don't think we need to get into the intimidation racket.”
”Carter,” Dudley snapped, frustrated with Hill's pa.s.sive nature, furious with his penchant to search for a middle ground. ”I don't want to hear any of your Good Samaritan bulls.h.i.+t. Do as you're told.”
”I'm sure if I didn't, you'd make it as tough for me to get a job as you would Ms. Day,” Hill muttered under his breath.
”What was that?”
”Nothing.”
”On second thought, you have your chat with Ms. Day tomorrow,” Dudley decided. ”There's no need to put it off until next week.”
Hill nodded obediently. ”All right,” he agreed, standing up. ”I'll do as you wish.”
”Good boy. Oh, one more thing, Carter.”
”Yes?”
”I noticed in the internal second-quarter operating report that the growth of our on-line mortgage portfolio was off.” One of the ways Dudley had grown Sumter so quickly was to implement an aggressive Web-enabled mortgage offering.
”Year-to-year we were still up 14 percent,” Hill protested.
”That's not enough, Carter. I want at least twenty.”
”Okay, I'll talk to Russ Thompson about it tomorrow.”
”Call him tonight at home.”
”All right,” Hill agreed stiffly.
The intercom on Dudley's desk buzzed.
”What is it, Betty?” Dudley called to his a.s.sistant in the anteroom.
”Ken Booker is here to see you.”
Dudley glanced up as Hill's eyes flashed to his. ”Tell him it will be another few minutes. I'm just finis.h.i.+ng up my meeting with Mr. Hill now.”
”Yes, sir.”
”Do you want me to stay?” Hill asked.
”No.”
”Why do you need to see Ken?”
”I haven't had a chance to speak with him one-on-one for a while. I think it's a good idea for me to keep in touch with the men a rung below you.” Dudley's only direct report was Carter Hill. He'd turned over all other reporting responsibilities to Hill several years ago to free himself up to focus on strategic initiatives, mostly acquisitions. ”Don't you?”
”I suppose,” Hill agreed tepidly.
Dudley suppressed a smile, aware of the stress the other man was feeling. He had deliberately arranged the Booker meeting right after this one so Hill would know. It was an effective management technique to keep a direct report back on his heels, wondering. ”Good.”
”You sure you don't want me to stay? Ken and I have been working on several important projects together, but he isn't up to speed on all of the developments. It might help if I were here to fill in the gaps.”
”No need,” Dudley replied brusquely. ”This will be mostly social.” That would make Hill feel even worse. ”We're done, Carter.”
Chuck Reese leaned back in his office chair and gazed out into the darkness at the lights of the Sumter Tower a quarter of a mile away, visible again now that the snowstorm had let up. Bob Dudley was up there at the apex of that tower, twenty stories above the top of the building Albemarle Capital leased. Probably looking down here right now with smug satisfaction, Reese thought to himself glumly, catching his reflection in the gla.s.s. Winning the golf grudge match wasn't enough any longer. There had to be more.
Reese turned to the side, checking his profile: still no spare tire and not even the hint of double chin, still a full head of blond hair, still in pretty d.a.m.n good shape for sixty-two years old. He took great pride in the fact that, late last year, theWall Street Journal had run an extensive article on him, describing him as ”a high-energy executive who looks and acts half his age. A man who turns one day into four because he accomplishes twice as much as others do in half the time.” The reporter had doc.u.mented the fact that Reese was a natural-born risk-taker, parachuting from airplanes, driving his collection of Porsches in a southern road-race circuit, and, last summer, sailing from Newport News to England solo.
Which was why he was completely at ease in the ulcer-inducing equity markets and Bob Dudley had chosen banking. Bob Dudley had no appet.i.te for risk. He was a bully when he had the odds in his favor, but he never took a chance without them. He'd never go for that long shot over water with a fairway wood. He'd always lay up, which was why he would always lose.
Reese turned away from the window and punched up a couple of stock tickers on his computer, wondering how he and Dudley had become such bitter rivals. They'd been close in college and during the first few years at Sumter. But somewhere along the way, the relations.h.i.+p had soured.
”Chuck.”