The Groaning Board

Wetzon
thought, the whole world listens.
    “We will not go forward with
this, and that’s final!” Micklynn matched each word with a bang on the
table.
    “Thanks, Bill,” Laura Lee said,
opening the door. She stepped out, catching a glimpse of Wetzon, her finger to
her lips. She closed the door. “Good God, darlin’, you almost scared the pants
off me. What are you doin’ here?”
    “Bill and I have tickets for the
ballet. What’s going on in there? And who’s Jonathon?”
    “Micklynn’s dug her Birkenstocks in.
She won’t go along with the IPO. Jonathon is Bill’s associate. Just out of
Harvard and is he ever cute.”
    “What will A.T. and Hem do?” Wetzon
took Laura Lee’s arm and they moved down the hallway together. “And you, dirty
old lady, ought to be ashamed.”
    “I’ll have you know, Wetzon, I’m
forty years old and in my prime. As for Micklynn, they’ll work her over, I
guess. The TV show begins airin’ this fall. That might give her the push.”
    “And if you were predicting the
future of the partnership itself?”
    “Darlin’, I’ve lived through
Beatrice, Apple, RJR Nabisco, and Time Warner, among a host of other similar
situations.“
    “And?”
    “Some come to terms with each other
for the sake of the business. Or one faction buys the other out. Or one finds a
way to give the other a quick shove. Look what happened to Apple and Steve
Jobs, and didn’t he show them? Or some just dissolve the business.”
    “And The Groaning Board partnership?
What’s your sense of it?”
    Laura Lee narrowed her eyes for a
moment before she said, “Dead in the water, darlin’.”

Chapter Forty

     
     
     
    JULY
     
    “Damnation,
Smith, look at that!” Wetzon said as a bouquet of chrysanthemums exploded and streaked
across the sky. “We’re missing the fireworks.”
    “I don’t know why you’re always in
such a rush.” Smith shifted down and pulled the Jaguar into a parking place on Liberty Street. She was in her most maddening mode: running on her own personal timetable.
Then she smiled brilliantly at Wetzon. “Oh, my, I think it just might be you’re
anxious to see your lover. And to think you fought me on this as if I didn’t
have your best interests at heart.”
    Whistle, pop, pop, pop, whistle. Red, white, and blue colors burst,
forming a huge American flag. Held a moment, then melted into a brilliant arc.
    Wetzon chose not to respond. She
hated to admit Smith had been right. Still, it was the timing. If Silvestri
hadn’t... Oh, forget Silvestri, please, she told herself. She got out of the
car and waited for Smith to lock up. Since it was a holiday, there wasn’t the
thick pedestrian rush of traffic in the area. All the tourists would be down
around South Ferry at the tip of Manhattan watching the fireworks firsthand.
    Coming toward them, however, was a
solitary woman, tall, very thin, in black jeans and a vest, her hair streaming
from under a peaked cap. She seemed very out of place, somehow, and as if she
realized that, she suddenly veered away in another direction.
    Smith dropped her keys into her
minuscule bag. “So, sweetie pie, anything new on our management consulting
as-signment for Micklynn?”
    “Not much. I went to see the
headmaster at the Colton School, where Sheila Gelber taught. You know Ellen
goes to Colton?”
    “Yes. I hope this isn’t going to be
one of your long sto-
    ries.
    “Do you want to hear it or not?”
Wetzon didn’t add “bitch,” although she thought it.
    “Oh, for pity sakes, go on.”
    “Well, Micklynn made a terrible scene
when Ellen was not chosen for a summer program at Johns Hopkins for outstanding
students. Sheila Celber made the choice.”
    “See, I told you Micklynn’s the one
who did it. She’s nothing but a crazy drunk.”
    “Yes, she’s a drunk, but... I don’t
know. Why would she hire me to find out who did it?”
    “Camoufuge and subterflage.”
    “I suppose... But isn’t it odd that
she would make a scene like that when she and Ellen were not getting along?
Micklynn threw Ellen out. We saw it.”
    “She’s back now.”
    “What do you mean? Who’s back?”
    “Ellen and Micklynn. They’ve kissed
and made up. Or something like that.”
    “Now I’m really confused.”
    The boat basin, with its variety of
crafts, could have been a painted set, except that tonight almost every boat
was a party. Glasses clinked, voices, mellow with wine and summer and holiday,
rose and fell. Streamers fluttered