Dirt

leaked from somewhere else, most likely from her lover’s end, although he had denied any such thing. Most likely his wife had put a detective on them, but that remained to be seen.
    “All right, Martha,” Amanda said, “let’s go through the messages.”
     
     
    At nine minutes past one the elderly Cadillac glided up to the main entrance of the Galaxy Building, and Amanda stepped out; Bill Eggers was waiting in the lobby. It was lunchtime, and the two were alone together in the elevator.
    “Amanda, won’t he be at lunch at this hour?” Eggers asked.
    “Dick Hickock always has lunch at his desk on Mondays,” she replied. “Always.”
    “Are you sure he’ll see you?”
    “He won’t have a choice,” Amanda said.
    “Jesus,” the lawyer said under his breath.
    They stepped out on the thirtieth floor, into a paneled and hushed hallway. The receptionist’s desk was empty; a sign on the desk said,
     
    THIS FLOOR IS CLOSED UNTIL 3:00 P.M. FOR ASSISTANCE, PLEASE GO TO THE MAIN RECEPTION DESK ON THE TENTH FLOOR.
     
    “Follow me,” Amanda said. She strode down the hall, her footsteps silenced by the thick carpeting, through a double door marked “Chairman,” across a reception room, and into the office of Richard M. Hickock, chairman of the board of Galaxy Media. Dick Hickock sat at his desk in his shirtsleeves, his necktie undone, the
Wall Street Journal
open before him, eating a huge sandwich.
    “Hello, Dick, darling!” Amanda enthused, walking behind the desk and planting a kiss on his cheek, leaving a smear of cerise.
    Hickock had just taken a large bite out of his sandwich, and he struggled to get it chewed and swallowed so that he could speak. By the time he had, Amanda and her lawyer were seated in a pair of chairs to his right.
    “You know Bill Eggers, don’t you?” Amanda asked.
    Hickock nodded and washed down food with a glass of beer.
    “Amanda, what the hell…” he began.
    “I do apologize for interrupting your lunch, Dick,” Amanda said contritely, “but I hope you will understand that this just won’t wait.”
    “Amanda,” Hickock said, shaking his head in disbelief, “there’s a thirty-eight in my desk drawer, and I would have used it on
anybody
who walked in here like that.” He smiled benevolently. “Anybody but you. Now what can I do for you?” He nodded at the sandwich. “My Milton Berle is waiting.” “What’s in a Milton Berle, Dick?” Amanda asked, apparently fascinated.
    “Corned beef and chopped liver with Russian dressing on pumpernickel, and this.” He held up a huge pickle. “The reference to Berle,” he said, grinning.
    Amanda blushed. “Oh, Dick! You are awful!”
    “It’s true,” Hickock said to Eggers. “I am awful.”
    “It’s about our contract proposal,” Amanda said without further ado.
    “Amanda, your contract has another three months to run,” Hickock replied. “What’s your rush?”
    “Oh, it’s not me, darling, it’s SI Newhouse.”
    Hickock’s face instantly became expressionless. “SI who?” he asked disingenuously, his eyes narrowing.
    “Dick, it’s been awful; I’ve spent the whole weekend fending him off.
Somehow,
he got my phone number, and he would
not
be put off.”
    “Don’t listen to a word he says,” Hickock said.
    “Oh, I’ve tried not to — he’s such an awful flatterer — but I must admit, when he started throwing numbers around…”
    “That absolute shit,” Hickock said, almost to himself.
    “Oh, I don’t want to go with SI, Dick; that’s why I came to see you. He’s practically forced me to have a drink with him later today — God knows, I don’t want to alienate him — and I’m planning to tell him, as sweetly as I possibly can, to go away.” “Right, my dear,” Hickock said, smiling. “That’s exactly what you should do.”
    “But I can’t, Dick darling, not with things just …
hanging
the way they are with my contract.”
    “Just say no, Amanda.”
    “Well, I can’t very well do that, if I don’t know for sure that I have a deal with you, can I? I mean, my God, I don’t want to leave Galaxy, but when he’s dangling all that money in front of me and all those
perks
…” “Perks?” Hickock asked, looking alarmed.
    “Oh, you know how lavish SI can be when he really wants somebody.”
    “Amanda, it’s wrong of you to press me like this.”
    “Dick, my darling,
I’m
not pressing; I’m the soul of patience. SI, unfortunately, is not.”
    Hickock rummaged in his