Sweet Fortune

“Poor old lady. Lucky she wasn't killed. What about her business?”
    Jessie smiled confidently. “I'll be in charge while she's away.”
    “Is that right?” Alex blinked again. “Well, uh, good luck. Let me know if you need anything.”
    Jessie wrinkled her nose. “All we really need are a few new clients.”
    “Same here. Hey, maybe we should try advertising our combined services.” Alex grinned. “Robin and Valentine: Psychic Computer Consultants.”
    “You know,” said Jessie as she started up the stairs, “that is not a bad idea. Not bad at all. I'm going to give that some thought.”
    “Hold on, Jessie, I wasn't serious,” Alex called after her. “I was just joking.”
    “Still, it has distinct possibilities,” Jessie yelled back from the second level. She shoved her key into the door marked VALENTINE CONSULTATIONS . “I've already got a slogan for us. ‘Intuition and Intelligence Working for You.’”
    “Forget it. We'd have every weirdo in town knocking on our door.”
    “Who cares, as long as they pay their bills?”
    “Good point.”
    Jessie stepped into the comfortably shabby office and tossed her shoulder bag and sunglasses down onto the faded chintz sofa. Then she crossed the room to the mammoth old-fashioned rolltop desk and grabbed the phone. Best to get this over with before she lost her nerve, she told herself.
    She threw herself down into the large wooden swivel chair and propped her booted feet on the desktop. The chair squeaked in loud protest as she leaned forward to punch out the number of her father's private line at Benedict Fasteners.
    “Mr. Benedict's office.” The voice sounded disembodied, it was so composed and exquisitely professional.
    “Hi, Grace, this is Jessie. Is Dad in?”
    “Oh, hello, Jessie.” Some of the professionalism leaked out of the voice and was promptly replaced by the comfortable familiarity of a longtime acquaintance. “He's here. Busy as usual and doesn't want to be disturbed. Do you need to talk to him?”
    “Please. Tell him it's important.”
    “Just a second. I'll see what I can do.” Grace put the phone on hold.
    A moment later her father's graveled voice came on the line. He sounded typically impatient at the interruption.
    “Jessie? I'm right in the middle of a new contract. What's up?”
    “Hi, Dad.” She resisted the automatic impulse to apologize for bothering him at work. Vincent Benedict was always at work , so any phone call was, by definition, an unwelcome interruption.
    Jessie had concluded at an early age that unless she took pains to avoid it, she would end up apologizing every time she talked to her father.
    “Just wanted to let you know something's come up here at the office,” she said, “and I won't be able to go to dinner with Hatch and the Galloways this evening. Got a real management crisis here, Dad.”
    “ The hell you do .” Benedict's voice thundered over the phone. “You gave me your word you'd help Hatch entertain the Galloways tonight. You know damn well it's crucial for you to be there. I explained that earlier this week. Galloway needs to see a united front. This is business, goddammit.”
    “Then you go to dinner with them.” Jessie held the phone away from her ear. Nothing, literally nothing, came before business in her father's world. She had learned that the hard way as a child.
    “It won't look right,” Vincent roared. “Two men entertaining Ethel and George will make the whole thing look too much like a goddamned business meeting.”
    “For all intents and purposes, that's what it is. Be honest, Dad. If it weren't a disguised meeting of some kind, you and Hatch wouldn't be so concerned about it, would you?”
    “That's not the point, Jessie. This is supposed to be casual. A social thing. You know damn well what I'm talking about. We're concluding a major deal here. Hatch needs a dinner companion and Galloway needs to see that I'm backing Hatch one hundred percent.”
    “But, Dad, listen…” Jessie was afraid she was starting to whine and stopped speaking abruptly.
    It was impossible to explain to her father how much she resented being ordered out on a business date with Sam Hatchard. Vincent would not understand the objection, and neither would Hatch. Two birds were obviously being killed with one efficient stone here, after all. Hatch could pursue company business and the courtship of the president's daughter at the same time.
    “Sending you along is the perfect solution.”