The Groaning Board

he said. “I gave the girls their start-up money and kept an
interest in The Groaning Board. No need to say I stand to make a killing on the
transaction.”
    “I’m sure the girls are just
filled to overflowing with gratitude,” Wetzon said, staring hard at her friend.
    “They should be, but it’s very
disappointing,” Hem said. “A.T. is more grateful than Micklynn, I’m sorry to
say. Micklynn doesn’t want to go forward with it.”
    “That’s why we didn’t want this to
get out.” Laura Lee sighed and gave Wetzon a pleading look.
    “Actually,” Hem said, leaning close
to Wetzon, “Micklynn hasn’t even seen the prospectus. When it’s polished up and
we have a chance to convince her, I’m sure she’ll go I along.”
    Hem was wearing some kind of exotic
cologne that was making Wetzon’s nose itch. He was oleaginously sure of
himself. She couldn’t resist asking, “What if she doesn’t?”
    “That’ll never happen, believe me.”
Hem tilted his head to Laura Lee. Her turn to pick up the ball?
    “Wetzon, what we’re askin’ is how you
found out. Even Micklynn doesn’t know—”
    “Excuse me? Micklynn doesn’t know?
About her own! company going public? How did you manage that? Isn’t she a
partner?”
    “Of course, Micklynn knows,” Laura
Lee said. “It’s just that she’s always been the hands-on person with the
catering, and A.T. has handled all the business arrangements.”
    “A.T. is my sister,” Hem said. “It’s
in the family, you might say. Bringing The Groaning Board public will allow the
girls to expand the business with the demand. Hire more support—”
    Now where had Wetzon heard that
before? “Expanding is: not always the best thing for either the firm or the
owners.” She reached into her briefcase, pulled out the white envelope A.T. had
mistakenly given Smith, and handed it across the table to Laura Lee. “Smith is
having a catered affair.”
    “Smith is Wetzon’s business partner,”
Laura Lee explained to Hem. She opened the clasp and slipped the prospectus out
an inch, then slid it back and closed the envelope.
    “You don’t mean Xenia Smith?”
Hem practically had an orgasm. He beamed an extra-huge smile at Wetzon.
    She shaded her eyes. Shit, hell, and
corruption, she thought. Another one of Smith’s conquests. But why was she
surprised? Smith made it her business to know everybody important. “You’ve met,
I see.”
    “At one of Bill Veeder’s parties last
year. She’s gorgeous. We really hit it off.”
    You would, Wetzon thought bitchily.
Especially as you both agree on the most important thing in life—money.
    “But how did you get hold of this,
darlin’?” The white envelope had disappeared into Laura Lee’s attaché.
    “A.T. gave Smith what we all thought
was p.r. material and a sample contract yesterday.”
    “Smith saw this?” Horror
mottled Laura Lee’s smooth complexion.
    “She couldn’t fit it in her purse, so
she gave it to me to hold for her. I looked at it last night. Smith hasn’t seen
it because she’s in Connecticut till Monday. And no, Laura Lee, she knows
nothing about it.” Wetzon got to her feet.
    “I’ll have A.T. messenger over the
right envelope,” Hem said, also rising.
    “Wetzon, darlin’, please give me your
word that what you know will go no further.” Laura Lee’s words and manner were
all super-professional, but her eyes gave her away. They carried a plea.
    “You have my word, Laura Lee, along
with a few extra words of advice from a not so impartial observer: Don’t
stampede this over Micklynn.”
    “Oh, she’ll come around. She has to,”
Hem said. Wetzon’s immediate thought was: Your picture is sure to be next to smarmy in the dictionary. “It’ll make her life so much easier. Once the offering goes
through she’ll never have to cook another day of her life.”
    “You think that’s what she wants?”
Instinct told her that cooking was Micklynn’s life. Wetzon touched her finger
to her brow in a salute. “See ya,” she said.
    Hem changed his seat so that he was
facing Laura Lee directly. As Wetzon walked away, she heard him say, “Laura
Lee, you have the most beautiful breasts.”
    She turned back to Laura Lee and made
a gagging gesture. Laura Lee’s lips twitched, but that was as much as she gave.
    Wetzon was out of sight before Hem
Barron looked over his shoulder.
    On the street, Wetzon breathed in the
honest fumes of automotive pollution. A vendor was selling