Part 31 (2/2)
”Really?” Andrew turned and faced him. ”I've heard of the meetings he's conducted, the financial audits of your division and the reporting he has your group doing. Very aggressive for our new executive.”
”He's trying to understand the playbook.”
”Exactly. The optimal word is 'trying'. We need to be careful of how successful he is,” Andrew said. He walked over to Cain's desk, flipped open the lid to the cigar box that he himself gave Cain two years ago for Christmas. Cain detested cigar smoke. But he kept them there for Andrew, his lame attempt to remain one of the boys. His eyes slipped over to the computer monitor. The tool bar at the bottom of the screen blinked orange with a new message. How he itched to read what she wrote.
Andrew took his time firing up the cigar in his office. ”So I have an idea what he's looking for.”
”Okay?”
”The partners are on a witch hunt. They want to take the company public. That means a radical change in how we do business. They know I have most of the board behind me. They need me disgraced, removed. They think they can find the bones buried in my backyard.”
Cain sighed. He looked back again to the screen. Was she still there waiting on his reply? Did she log off? f.u.c.k, would Andrew get on with it already? ”What do you need?”
”Need to bury the Keemler deal. No traces. I need you, son, to do what you do best.”
Cain said nothing. What was there to say? He had a special talent for dealing with Andrew Hollingsworth's dirty deeds. Of course his father in-law would call upon it now. Sooner or later, it would come down to Keemler. There goes his hope that Keith Livingston uncovered it on his own. ”I'll look into it.”
”Good. I hear you were working early this morning. Lloyd said you were logged into Oracle running reports around five?” Andrew leveled his eyes on him. Cain shrugged. Apparently Keith had used his log in and got into the system. What he didn't know was that Andrew was keeping tabs on everyone's access at this time. He should have.
”Yeah, he keeps wanting to know the burn rate against the budget. He's asked for us to present the production road map for the next fiscal year.” He nodded to the white board. ”Just doing what is needed.”
”Well, keep your eye on him. He's getting closer to you. He's bound to show his hand soon.” Andrew rose. He put the cigar out on the Tiffany ashtray. ”Got a call from princess this morning. She's really upset.”
”I won't discuss my marriage with you, Andrew.”
He chuckled. ”I'm just a concerned father. Cain, trust me. I know how it is. She's a handful like her mother. Unfortunately, neither of us have time to baby our girl. I need you free of distractions. Here's the plan.”
Cain sat back, staring up at his father in-law.
”After the party for the Livingstons, I'm sending her and Bonnie to Paris. Let them do some shopping for the upcoming holiday. That will give you a week or two to cool off. Get perspective. Besides, I need you at the top of your game with Livingston. How's that?”
”Do what you want. You will either way.”
”How's your mother?”
”You know how she is,” Cain snapped.
Andrew nodded. ”See you in the staff meeting in an hour. Play nice with Maryanne. She's delicate and maybe carrying my future grandson?” He smiled and walked out. Cain's nose twitched as he sneered back. s.n.a.t.c.hing the Tiffany ashtray, he tossed it in the wastebasket. When he turned back to the computer, he immediately brought up the messenger window.
SimoneluvsSimone: Okay, well you're working. I'll let you get to it. Maybe see you tonight at Bunco? Talk to you later. Bye. :-) Bunco? So she was coming over tonight? He had to work late. Just as well. Maryanne was right. It was becoming blatantly obvious how he felt for the lovely Mrs. Livingston. That could only bring them both trouble.
Simone lowered the lid to her laptop after re-reading his words twice. Okay, this was no longer a pa.s.sing flirt. She was actually crossing the line. Sitting back, she thought of her husband and his affair. Is this how it started? When something was missing and lacking you gravitate to another? She had been a good wife. Too good. She had also been silent like he wanted her and supportive in everything he needed. Their s.e.x life was always about pleasing him. How could he need more from another woman? Especially if she was the one he said he loved.
The phone rang. It lay flat on the black cherry wood of the dining table. She picked it up to find Keith's number. Part of her wanted to ignore it. But he'd just keep calling back. ”h.e.l.lo, Keith.”
”I thought you wouldn't answer,” he gave a nervous chuckle.
”What do you need?” she asked.
”Wanted to know if I'm still in the doghouse?”
Simone didn't answer. This wasn't a doghouse. No, Keith, her beloved husband, was in the outhouse. She had no intention of letting this go.
”Look, babe. I had a chance to think it over. I'm really sorry about Stacy. She's been calling, yes. But I've told her over and over that-”
”It doesn't matter, Keith. It's not about Stacy.”
”It's not?”
”No. And when I'm ready to give you the clue you seem to be so oblivious to we'll talk. Right now I don't want to talk to you. Okay?”
”Simone?”
”Not sure what time you're coming home, but I've accepted the invite from the Gatlins for a game of Bunco tonight, so be sure to pick yourself up a box of chicken on your way in.”
”Wait? You're going? I thought-”
”What? That I'd abandon you? Not help you in your little mission in Castle Rock? Not play the dutiful wife even though I'll have to wear a sweater to cover my bruises?”
”Bruises, babe. I'm so sorry.”
”Save it. I'm not like you. I honor my commitments. Don't call again today. I'd rather not have to go through the trouble of ignoring you.” She turned the phone off and set it back down. Dropping back on her chair, she hugged herself. She had been honest. It wasn't about him. Not really. This time it was about her, and the change she was feeling. Did it mean that she was ready to leave her marriage? She wasn't sure. But for the first time, the thought of doing so didn't terrify her.
Cain heard his boss curse and slam down the receiver of the phone before his knuckles. .h.i.t the wood. He knocked once more for good measure to be sure he was heard.
”Come in,” Keith barked.
Cain looked back to the secretary who peeked up from her gla.s.ses. Then he entered. Keith Livingston didn't appear to be as confident as he did the last time he saw him. In fact, for a black man, he sure could turn a deep shade of red when embarra.s.sed.
”Just who I wanted to see,” he said. ”Close the door.”
Cain did as he was told and stepped over to his boss's desk. ”Something wrong?”
”Women. My wife is the most spoiled ungrateful b.i.t.c.h.”
Cain's brow arched. ”Really?”
Keith shook his head. ”You know what I mean. You put all the time in getting them trained and then something distracts them, and you got to start all over again.” He waved it off. ”Never mind that. I have good news.”
”Okay?”
”Keemler Commodities. I just uncovered the smoking gun. I got off the phone with New York. They want more details. All I have are the financials, but I can't figure out what Project O.P.A.L. was. It says you were lead?”
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