Bitter Business

sable that she’d pressed upon me at the last moment. As he escorted me to the table where Stephen and the two executives from Gordimer A.G. were waiting, heads turned. But I hadn’t completely realized the full extent of what Mother had done until I saw Stephen rising to his feet, a look of undisguised wonder in his eyes.
    In Stephen’s face I saw what, in my hurry, I hadn’t noticed in the mirror of my mother’s dressing table. In the slinky dress and skyscraper heels, with Mother’s dark red lipstick and my hair now all soft curls cascading in torrents over my bare shoulders—I looked sexy. It was a completely new experience for me.
    Dinner was very odd. We were meeting to discuss financing options for the proposed joint venture between Azor and Gordimer. But while I outlined the international tax implications for various capitalization structures the two businessmen from Switzerland took turns looking down my dress.
    Men, I reflected, are really very simple, obvious creatures.
     
    * * *
     
    After Stephen had handed the gentlemen from Gordimer into their taxi, we stood beneath the striped awning of the restaurant and waited for our cars to be brought around.
    “I don’t have to tell you that the big pharmaceutical houses have seen their profits go soft in the last couple of years,” I advised him. “Gordimer’s no exception. They’ve all been gobbling up small, research-oriented companies with good product in their pipeline. Companies like Azor. I think you should keep that firmly in mind while you’re deciding whether or not to jump into bed with them.”
    “I love your hair like this,” Stephen said, marveling. “Why don’t you follow me home for a drink?”
    “Have you been listening to what I’ve been saying?” I demanded.
    “You told me I should be careful before I jump into bed. Would you rather we dropped your car at your office?”
    “I have to go back to the office and work. I have a meeting with Lydia Cavanaugh tomorrow morning. I have to review the file.”
    Stephen bent his head and kissed my neck. I was flabbergasted. I had never known Stephen to be affectionate in public.
    “You can pick up the file when we drop the car. I’ll wake you up early—when I get up. That way you’ll be able to read the file when you’re fresh.”
    “I am never fresh in the morning.”
    “Please?” Stephen whispered, sliding his hand down my spine to the small of my back.
    Out of the comer of my eye I noticed one of the red-jacketed parking attendants watching us with great attention. He was licking his lips.
    “Okay, okay,” I relented.
    The whole way back to my office I kept shaking my head. I parked my car in the empty garage. Stephen pulled in beside me. Fred, the night security guard, did a double take while I signed in. In the elevator, to my utter astonishment, Stephen stood behind me and played with my hair.
    The reception room was dark, softly lit by a few brass lamps that the janitorial staff allowed to bum all night. I checked the alcove where we had pigeonholes for messages and picked up mine. Out of habit, I flipped the switch that illuminated my name on the night call-board. All the other names were dark.
    Stephen trailed me into my office, whistling a complicated passage from Bach. I didn’t turn on the overhead light. I didn’t want to see all the files piled up and waiting for me in the morning. Instead, I switched on the small reading light on my desk. I slipped off the heavy sable of my mother’s coat, feeling it rub agreeably against my bare skin. I laid it carefully over the end of the couch. Stephen shifted some files to make room for himself next to it. Then he stretched his long legs out in front of him and watched me from the darkest comer of the room.
    Cheryl had left the files I’d asked for on my chair. I leaned over carefully in the tight dress, throwing the unfamiliar tangle of my hair over my shoulder. The fax from Jack Cavanaugh was on top. I scanned it quickly. While he acknowledged that Lydia was attending our meeting in the hopes of beginning negotiations for the sale of her shares, he announced that no other family members would attend in order that I might have a better chance of gaining his daughter’s confidence and dissuading her from selling. I groaned.
    I flipped through the folders that Cheryl had pulled for me, checking to make sure that I had everything I would need in the morning. As I clipped Jack’s fax onto one of the files, I felt