CHAPTER THREE
New York City - John F. Kennedy International Airport, Terminal Three
December 13, 2000
6:00 PM
Carol's flight was pleasant enough. The hour and a half flight gave her time to read through the contract twice and she felt fairly confident that there wasn't anything lurking in the fine print.
She navigated through the bustling airport crowds to the baggage claim and got her suitcases. Then she made her way to the taxi line. She walked outside and headed towards the first cab. But just as she got to the lead cab, a man cut in front of her, handed his bag to the waiting driver and said, "Fourth and Commerce, and make it quick."
Carol just stood there, dumbfounded, as the man leapt into the cab as it took off. The man who stole her cab, looked back at her and waved condescendingly. She was still standing there stunned, when she felt a tug on one of her suitcases. Whirling around in fear, Carol found an Indian man, asking "Excuse me, Miss. You need ride?"
'Well,' Carol thought, 'I THINK that's what he said.'
The cab driver's accent was very thick. With a tentative nod, Carol agreed. The cab driver then rushed to take her suitcases from her, throwing them in the trunk of his cab and then rushed around to open the rear passenger side door for her. Carol got into the cab, still feeling a little unsure. The driver entered a moment later.
Then the cab pulled away from the curb with a screech of tires. Carol held onto the door handle for balance. The cabbie, seemingly oblivious to the traffic around him, turned his head to look at her and asked, "Where to, miss?"
"Um," Carol said, fumbling for her itinerary, "the DoubleTree Times Square. At, uh, 1568 Broadway."
The cabbie nodded his head, grinned, and mashed down on the gas pedal, forcing Carol to make yet another desperate grab for the door handle. When she'd sufficiently secured herself, she glanced over at the cab driver's posted information. 'Sirajul,' she thought, 'I wonder if ALL New York Cabbies drive like him?'
The cab barreled down Grand Central Parkway West. Despite the heavy traffic, the posted speed limit and certain laws of physics, the cab driver expertly weaved from lane to lane, accelerating or braking hard as the circumstances dictated. For her part, Carol was already beginning to miss the safe confines of Stuckeyville. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the music from the taxi's radio, but it was a cacophony of Indian music and she couldn't understand the lyrics.
After a harrowing, 15-minute ride, the cab pulled up outside the DoubleTree Hotel. The driver jumped out, ran around to open Carol's door, then dashed to the trunk and pulled out her suitcases. Still somewhat dazed from her experience - which Carol believed was better suited to NASA flight testing than motoring - Carol fumbled for her wallet for several seconds. Eventually she collected herself enough to pay the fare - with a twenty percent gratuity. The cabbie flashed a white-toothed smile at Carol and said, "Thank you and welcome to New York, Miss!" Then he leapt back into the cab and with another screech of tires pulled back into traffic seemingly unconcerned for either his cab or the other vehicles on the street.
Carol took a moment to look around. She stared up - and up - at the skyscrapers of Manhattan. Despite being outside, the enormity of the buildings surrounding her gave her a feeling of claustrophobia. Looking down the street, Carol thought, 'Almost seems like a cattle chute, with the animals off to slaughter.' She paused for a moment, starting to consider a story in which a small town girl travels to the big city. She smiled, feeling like the creative juices may already be working.
Then she smiled again, deciding that she'd have to also have to find a way to fit in a description of a harrowing cab drive from the airport to the hotel into her next book - whatever it ended up to be.
Carol then walked into the hotel. Despite the Christmas crowds, she had little difficulty checking in. When the clerk at the front desk told her that all the bellhops were busy, she thanked him anyway and told him that she could take of her luggage herself. In hindsight, she probably should have waited, but eventually she made it to her room. She dragged the suitcases inside and collapsed on the couch. She closed her eyes, thinking 'Okay, I'm here in New York City. Its eight o'clock and I have a meeting with Knight Publishing at eleven o'clock tomorrow to discuss the contract. Now what do I do?'
She sat up and surveyed the outer room. In front of the sofa was a small coffee table, off to her right - an armchair. The walls were a light tan color. There was a small table/desk combination against the window and an armoire hiding the television. The inner room beyond contained a single, queen-sized bed, a night stand, and a dresser with another television. The bathroom was off of the outer room, around the small breakfast bar (complete with mini coffee maker).
'Well,' Carol thought, 'If I'm going to be here for a week, I might as well make myself at home.'
With that, she began to unpack her suitcases, putting some clothes in the dresser and the rest in the closet. When she was done, she repeated the process in the bathroom, setting up the various toiletries (mostly Neutrogena stuff, she noted with amusement).
Finished, she collapsed back onto the bed. She rested for a moment than reached for her briefcase and removed her journal. She opened to the first blank page and wrote:
'December 13, 2000. Well, I made it to New York City! It almost feels like a dream. I mean, the city is amazing. Especially at Christmas time. But even though I always talked about traveling, getting out and seeing the world, I find that my thoughts still dwell on Stuckeyville. Tomorrow, I have my first face-to-face meeting with Knight Publishing. I hope it goes well.'
Carol closed her journal and sighed. She stood up and walked into the main room, walked over to the armoire, opening the cabinet to reveal the television. She grabbed the remote, then threw herself on the couch. Flipping through channels, she was surprised, to find a broadcast of Xanadu. Even though the movie had been on for a while, Carol curled up on the bed, smiled and lost her self in it.
After the movie had ended Carol looked at the clock. 'Oops,' she thought, 'its 12:30! I'd better get to sleep. I've got a busy day tomorrow!"
***
New York City - The DoubleTree Hotel
December 14, 2000
Carol left a wake up call with the front desk for 8:30 AM. Sufficient time, she'd decided, to dress, get some breakfast and look through the contracts one more time before the meeting. For the meeting, she opted for a pair of dark blue slacks and a nice cream colored top with matching sweater. She did her make-up. Then grabbed her coat, and headed out the door, briefcase in hand.
At the elevator, she double checked the directions for Knight Publishing Associates. She remembered that when making the appointment, she had spoken to Victor Knight's assistant, David Coe. David had said that Knight Publishing Associates was only two blocks from her hotel and gave her directions.
Carol decided to verify the directions she'd been given at the hotel's front desk. Then confident in her ability to find her destination, she left the hotel. As she walked the two blocks, she came to an even greater appreciation of the sheer immensity of New York. The tremendous activity of it. Honking car horns, people talking, people shouting, the sound of far off police or fire sirens, the screech of tires. It made her wonder how people in New York were able to think. Unlike Carol, they seemed unaffected by the noise and chaos around them. Maybe living here for a long time, they'd developed some kind of filter for the noise. She wasn't sure. She just missed the quiet of Stuckeyville.
Despite the snow, Carol had little trouble getting to the building where she was told Knight Publishing Associates was located. A security guard was sitting behind the desk near the elevators. Unsure of what floor she needed, Carol asked the guard. He indicated that she needed the 56th floor and asked her for identification. Then he conducted her and several others towards the elevators.
Carol rode the elevator to the 56th floor, feeling her ears pop twice. There was no confusion about where to go. Across from the elevator was a glass wall, with glass doors in the center. Inside, a wooden paneled wall - on which the logo of Knight Publishing Assoc. was detailed - stood behind a solitary reception desk. An attractive red head was sitting at the desk, wearing a telephone headset. Some plush leather chairs were off to either side behind some glass-topped coffee tables covered with books and other publications.
Carol took a deep breath and entered the office, the receptionist looked up at her as she did so, before going back to the talking on her telephone headset. "Good morning, Knight Publishing, how may I direct your call?" Her voice had a decidedly nasal quality. A pause, then "Hold one moment."
The receptionist then turned to Carol, smiled, and said, "Ms. Vessey?"
Carol was surprised, she had not expected the receptionist to have been on the lookout for her. But she quickly regained her composure.
"Uh," Carol said, "yes, I am. I have an eleven o'clock appointment with Mr. Knight."
The receptionist's smile fell somewhat and she said, "Well, I'm sorry, but Mr. Knight had an emergency come up. He won't be able to meet with you today."
"I'm sorry, I only got into town last night and I didn't get any messages. I can come back another time," Carol said apologetically.
The receptionist smiled at Carol again and said, "Relax, Ms. Vessey. Mr. Knight" she stressed the word "Knight", "can't see you right now, but Mr. Coe asked me to call him when you got here. Hold on a moment."
The receptionist called Mr. Coe's office and, after getting a response, said, "Have a seat, Ms. Vessey. Mr. Coe will be with you momentarily."
Carol walked over to the chairs and sat down. Something about the office made her feel uncomfortable - it was so sterile and bland. 'Come on,' Carol thought, 'its just nerves.' She tried to take her mind of it, by looking over the books scattered across the table top. Of course, all of them were associated with Knight Publishing, and covering everything from self-help to romance.
A few moments later, a large man walked into the reception area. He stood a little over six feet tall with dark hair - slicked back. Carol could see that his hair was long, but in a ponytail. He had a mustache and goatee and deeply tanned skinned. He introduced himself with a smile, extending his hand and saying, "Carol, hi. I'm David Coe. Its nice to meet you in person finally."
Carol stood and shook his hand, saying, "Thank you, Mr. Coe. It's nice to meet you in person as well."
"Carol," Coe said, "I told you when we spoke on the phone that my name is David, okay?"
"Okay," Carol said with a smile.
"So," he said, "let's go have a little talk, shall we?"
With a wave of his hand, he indicated for Carol to follow him down the left hand corridor. As she walked with him, he asked "So, how was your trip? Any problems?"
"No, not really," Carol didn't see the point in mentioning the cab ride. She didn't want to appear naive.
"Good, good," He said. "Here we are," he said indicating an open conference room.
The two walked in, Coe sat at the far edge of the table and waved Carol to a nearby seat.
"Well," he began, "first let me apologize for Victor's absence. An emergency came up that required his personal attention. He wanted me to express his personal apology to you about that."
"Oh," Carol said, with a little side to side motion of her head "its no problem. I completely understand."
"Good," he continued. "Victor would like to re-schedule with you, but isn't sure when yet. Can you leave a phone number with me so that he can call you?"
Carol rattled off her cell phone number which Coe wrote down on a pad. Just as he was finishing, a young man - probably an intern - walked into the conference room. "Excuse me, Mr. Coe? You asked for these?" he asked.
Coe nodded and the young man placed the large stack of papers on the table and then left.
Coe turned to Carol, "Okay, I know that we sent you a contract a couple of months ago to look over. It was our standard agreement with authors. I do have some bad news. In the last few weeks, we have gotten burned by authors who used that contract, so our legal department has developed a new contract."
Carol looked at the stack of papers. It was easily four times the thickness of the one in her briefcase. She asked, her voice tinged with more than a little uncertainly, "Is that just ONE copy of the contract?"
Coe laughed ruefully and said, "Yes, I'm afraid it is. I'm sure you'll want to look this over before we discuss it further. Right now, that's about all we can do. Before anything gets signed, Victor really does want to meet with you." He then slid the stack over to Carol - who had some trouble fitting it inside her briefcase.
"Well, Carol, it was really a pleasure to meet you. I'm sure Victor will call you within a day to re-schedule. Hopefully I will be able to see you then."
Carol stood and followed Coe out to the reception area. They shook hands again, and Coe offered, "I'm sure you'll be hearing from us within the next few days. Again, I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you."
"Thank you," Carol replied sheepishly. She was still so thrown by the change in the contracts, that she couldn't tell if the man was being sincere or giving her the brush off. In the end, she decided to play it safe and be polite. She waved and smiled at the receptionist who, though she was busy taking another call, returned both.
As she waited for the elevator, Carol saw Coe talking to the receptionist. She was so intent on trying to discern what or more importantly who, they were talking about that she failed to hear the chime of the elevator doors and was almost trampled by a tall, good looking blonde-haired man, who had practically bolted out of the elevator. They both recovered quickly and Carol noted the expensive look of his clothes immediately and, looking up at him in surprise, his intense gray eyes.
Stepping back with a squeak, Carol quickly said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been standing right in front of the door like that."
The man laughed and said not unsuggestively, "No problem. You can stand in my way anytime."
Normally someone taking that tone with her would bother her, but Carol was still too preoccupied with the telephone-book sized contract in her briefcase. For his part, the man continued down the hall, oblivious or uncaring of any offense he may have caused.
Just as Carol had entered the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor lobby, she noticed that the blond man had entered the glass doors at Knight Publishing, walked up to Coe - who was still talking to the receptionist - and put his arm around his shoulders. With a glance over his shoulder, he said something to Coe. As the elevators began to close, Carol noticed that Coe said something else to the well-dressed man, who then glanced back at the elevator - or more accurately, at her - and smiled.
Feeling more than a little frustrated, Carol decided to go back to her hotel, intending to read over the new contract tonight after a late lunch.
***
New York City - The DoubleTree Hotel
December 14, 2000
2:15 PM
Carol decided that she would try to find a place to get lunch outside of the hotel. Feeling a little overwhelmed earlier, she had just eaten at the restaurant next door to the hotel, the Blue Fin. Now, after a night's sleep, and no immediate pending commitments, she felt ready to venture out into the city.
Carol changed from her business attire into a comfortable pair of jeans and a pink sweater. Looking at the new contract laid out on the table, she collected it together with sigh and thought, 'I'd better take another look at this.' She stuffed the contract in her briefcase, which fit better this time now that there was only the one version of the contract in it.
She headed downstairs and asked the woman behind the front desk if there was a good place to get lunch in the near vicinity of the hotel. Despite her earlier bravado, she didn't want to venture too far until she had gotten her bearings a little better. After receiving the names and directions to three different places, Carol picked the second place on the list, Charlotte on West 44th Street, because the name reminded her of the title character from her favorite childhood book.
The restaurant was a small café, Carol took a table by one of the windows to allow her to watch the crowds of Christmas shoppers. When the waitress came, she ordered a small bowl of soup and a Caesar salad. While waiting, she pulled out the contract again. Her eyes felt like they were going to cross as soon as she started to look at it. Digging into her purse for a pen to make notes with, she stumbled upon the business card Mike and Nancy had given her.
Carol pulled the business card out and looked at it for the first time. 'Edward J. Stevens, Esquire. Senior Corporate Attorney, Farmer & Sheehan.'
'I wish,' Carol said, 'that I could remember this guy. Of course, I don't really remember Mike and Nancy from high school either.' She sighed, 'I guess I was just too caught up in the whole popularity thing back then. What a fool! I mean, to think of all the good times I probably missed out on by not being friends with Molly.'
Carol set the business card aside as the waitress brought over her lunch. As she ate, she discovered that her eyes kept drifting back and forth between the contract and the business card. With a sigh, she finally decided that she was never going to understand the contract and that Ed Stevens sounded like her best bet. Hopefully, he would know who she was, but if not, at least she had Mike and Nancy's names to open a door.
Picking up the card, she looked at the address and realized that she was probably in the same block. 'Well,' Carol thought, 'what the hell? If he's going to help me out, I'm going to have to drop the contract off with him anyway.'
Carol finished lunch and paid her tab. Out on the street, she got her bearings, crossed the street at the corner and headed into a building about halfway down the block. Inside, she looked at the directory and found Farmer & Sheehan on the 33rd floor.
Riding up in the elevator, Carol was more than a little nervous. She couldn't help thinking 'This guy probably doesn't know me from Eve and I'm just going to pop in on him.'
The indicator lights slowly counting upward 30 ... 31 ... 32 ... 33! Carol got off and easily found Farmer & Sheehan's offices.
***
Meanwhile, Ed was working at his desk. This time, trying to review some documents Jerry just had dropped off.
"Hey, Ed," Miranda Van Note said, popping into his office. She was an attractive brunette two years younger than Ed. Younger, but definitely more ambitious - well, at least more overtly ambitious.
"Oh, hi, Miranda," Ed said neutrally. "What's up?"
"Well," Miranda said as she took a seat, "I was talking to Ted Andrews over at The Heller Group, running some ideas by him about the merger we're working on for them. He thought they were some good ideas, so I thought I'd run them by you as well."
Ed's face had gone blank. "Um," Ed said, "I don't recall asking you to talk to anyone about this merger. In fact, you're not even working on this merger, Miranda."
"Oh, I know," Miranda said dismissively, then changed positions to show more of her long legs. She leaned forward, allowing her blouse to open slightly. "I'm just trying to help out everywhere I can."
"Miranda," Ed said calmly, never a good sign, but Miranda did not pick up on it. "Let me make this very plain to you. You do not have the authority to talk to anyone about my cases. You will not talk to anyone else about one of my cases unless I explicitly ask you to. If these directions are not clear enough for you, let me know, and I will further clarify them."
Miranda blanched, realizing that she had made a mistake. Ed always seemed like such a nice guy and she had figured that his recent divorce would have left him distracted and she could have moved on the Heller deal. As well as *other* things ...
Miranda stood, smoothing her blouse while somehow simultaneously accentuating her ... assets. Ed continued to look her directly in the eye, if he was aware that Miranda was an attractive woman, he made no indication of it here. Miranda said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Stevens," she said almost coldly, "I apologize for being out of line. It ... it won't happen again."
"I'm sure it won't," Ed said. "Thank you. Now, I do expect an email outlining the ideas that you discussed with Ted. I don't want to give them the impression that we have any communication problems here."
Miranda paled, she realized that not only had her plan not worked, but she had lost some of her ideas - good ideas - on the merger.
"Miranda," Ed said, reading the look on her face, "Whatever ideas you had - if I decide to use them, I'll make sure that you get FULL credit."
"Thank you, Mr. Stevens," then she smiled, then added suggestively, "though wouldn't it be far more PRODUCTIVE if we discussed the matter over ... dinner?"
However, Ed's attention was already focused back to the papers on his desk. Miranda's smile fell from her face. With a final serious nod, she left Ed's office.
Ed stretched for a moment, sighing. Putting aside thoughts of his conversation with Miranda, Ed started thinking about the files Jerry had brought by. Something about the documents bothered him. He started pacing about the room - he always thought better on his feet.
Ed's office resembled the stereotypical New York City law office. Dark wood paneling and plush carpeting. Scattered about the room were bookshelves full of law books. However, incongruously sitting in the corner nearest his desk was an old wooden bat. Ed stopped and picked up the bat, slinging it over his right shoulder, then he resumed his pacing.
Ed stopped, said "Aha!" and set the bat down. He scribbled a few notes on the side of the document. He smiled. It was *HIS* turn to save Jerry's bacon. He was just about to take the documents over to Jerry personally, when his intercom buzzed, Deloris' voice echoing from the speaker, "Ed?"
"Yes, Deloris," he started to sit down, anticipating a long conference call.
"Ed, there is a Carol Vessey to see you. She said she went to high school with you."
Ed missed his chair completely, landing on the floor with a thud.
New York City - John F. Kennedy International Airport, Terminal Three
December 13, 2000
6:00 PM
Carol's flight was pleasant enough. The hour and a half flight gave her time to read through the contract twice and she felt fairly confident that there wasn't anything lurking in the fine print.
She navigated through the bustling airport crowds to the baggage claim and got her suitcases. Then she made her way to the taxi line. She walked outside and headed towards the first cab. But just as she got to the lead cab, a man cut in front of her, handed his bag to the waiting driver and said, "Fourth and Commerce, and make it quick."
Carol just stood there, dumbfounded, as the man leapt into the cab as it took off. The man who stole her cab, looked back at her and waved condescendingly. She was still standing there stunned, when she felt a tug on one of her suitcases. Whirling around in fear, Carol found an Indian man, asking "Excuse me, Miss. You need ride?"
'Well,' Carol thought, 'I THINK that's what he said.'
The cab driver's accent was very thick. With a tentative nod, Carol agreed. The cab driver then rushed to take her suitcases from her, throwing them in the trunk of his cab and then rushed around to open the rear passenger side door for her. Carol got into the cab, still feeling a little unsure. The driver entered a moment later.
Then the cab pulled away from the curb with a screech of tires. Carol held onto the door handle for balance. The cabbie, seemingly oblivious to the traffic around him, turned his head to look at her and asked, "Where to, miss?"
"Um," Carol said, fumbling for her itinerary, "the DoubleTree Times Square. At, uh, 1568 Broadway."
The cabbie nodded his head, grinned, and mashed down on the gas pedal, forcing Carol to make yet another desperate grab for the door handle. When she'd sufficiently secured herself, she glanced over at the cab driver's posted information. 'Sirajul,' she thought, 'I wonder if ALL New York Cabbies drive like him?'
The cab barreled down Grand Central Parkway West. Despite the heavy traffic, the posted speed limit and certain laws of physics, the cab driver expertly weaved from lane to lane, accelerating or braking hard as the circumstances dictated. For her part, Carol was already beginning to miss the safe confines of Stuckeyville. She closed her eyes, trying to focus on the music from the taxi's radio, but it was a cacophony of Indian music and she couldn't understand the lyrics.
After a harrowing, 15-minute ride, the cab pulled up outside the DoubleTree Hotel. The driver jumped out, ran around to open Carol's door, then dashed to the trunk and pulled out her suitcases. Still somewhat dazed from her experience - which Carol believed was better suited to NASA flight testing than motoring - Carol fumbled for her wallet for several seconds. Eventually she collected herself enough to pay the fare - with a twenty percent gratuity. The cabbie flashed a white-toothed smile at Carol and said, "Thank you and welcome to New York, Miss!" Then he leapt back into the cab and with another screech of tires pulled back into traffic seemingly unconcerned for either his cab or the other vehicles on the street.
Carol took a moment to look around. She stared up - and up - at the skyscrapers of Manhattan. Despite being outside, the enormity of the buildings surrounding her gave her a feeling of claustrophobia. Looking down the street, Carol thought, 'Almost seems like a cattle chute, with the animals off to slaughter.' She paused for a moment, starting to consider a story in which a small town girl travels to the big city. She smiled, feeling like the creative juices may already be working.
Then she smiled again, deciding that she'd have to also have to find a way to fit in a description of a harrowing cab drive from the airport to the hotel into her next book - whatever it ended up to be.
Carol then walked into the hotel. Despite the Christmas crowds, she had little difficulty checking in. When the clerk at the front desk told her that all the bellhops were busy, she thanked him anyway and told him that she could take of her luggage herself. In hindsight, she probably should have waited, but eventually she made it to her room. She dragged the suitcases inside and collapsed on the couch. She closed her eyes, thinking 'Okay, I'm here in New York City. Its eight o'clock and I have a meeting with Knight Publishing at eleven o'clock tomorrow to discuss the contract. Now what do I do?'
She sat up and surveyed the outer room. In front of the sofa was a small coffee table, off to her right - an armchair. The walls were a light tan color. There was a small table/desk combination against the window and an armoire hiding the television. The inner room beyond contained a single, queen-sized bed, a night stand, and a dresser with another television. The bathroom was off of the outer room, around the small breakfast bar (complete with mini coffee maker).
'Well,' Carol thought, 'If I'm going to be here for a week, I might as well make myself at home.'
With that, she began to unpack her suitcases, putting some clothes in the dresser and the rest in the closet. When she was done, she repeated the process in the bathroom, setting up the various toiletries (mostly Neutrogena stuff, she noted with amusement).
Finished, she collapsed back onto the bed. She rested for a moment than reached for her briefcase and removed her journal. She opened to the first blank page and wrote:
'December 13, 2000. Well, I made it to New York City! It almost feels like a dream. I mean, the city is amazing. Especially at Christmas time. But even though I always talked about traveling, getting out and seeing the world, I find that my thoughts still dwell on Stuckeyville. Tomorrow, I have my first face-to-face meeting with Knight Publishing. I hope it goes well.'
Carol closed her journal and sighed. She stood up and walked into the main room, walked over to the armoire, opening the cabinet to reveal the television. She grabbed the remote, then threw herself on the couch. Flipping through channels, she was surprised, to find a broadcast of Xanadu. Even though the movie had been on for a while, Carol curled up on the bed, smiled and lost her self in it.
After the movie had ended Carol looked at the clock. 'Oops,' she thought, 'its 12:30! I'd better get to sleep. I've got a busy day tomorrow!"
***
New York City - The DoubleTree Hotel
December 14, 2000
Carol left a wake up call with the front desk for 8:30 AM. Sufficient time, she'd decided, to dress, get some breakfast and look through the contracts one more time before the meeting. For the meeting, she opted for a pair of dark blue slacks and a nice cream colored top with matching sweater. She did her make-up. Then grabbed her coat, and headed out the door, briefcase in hand.
At the elevator, she double checked the directions for Knight Publishing Associates. She remembered that when making the appointment, she had spoken to Victor Knight's assistant, David Coe. David had said that Knight Publishing Associates was only two blocks from her hotel and gave her directions.
Carol decided to verify the directions she'd been given at the hotel's front desk. Then confident in her ability to find her destination, she left the hotel. As she walked the two blocks, she came to an even greater appreciation of the sheer immensity of New York. The tremendous activity of it. Honking car horns, people talking, people shouting, the sound of far off police or fire sirens, the screech of tires. It made her wonder how people in New York were able to think. Unlike Carol, they seemed unaffected by the noise and chaos around them. Maybe living here for a long time, they'd developed some kind of filter for the noise. She wasn't sure. She just missed the quiet of Stuckeyville.
Despite the snow, Carol had little trouble getting to the building where she was told Knight Publishing Associates was located. A security guard was sitting behind the desk near the elevators. Unsure of what floor she needed, Carol asked the guard. He indicated that she needed the 56th floor and asked her for identification. Then he conducted her and several others towards the elevators.
Carol rode the elevator to the 56th floor, feeling her ears pop twice. There was no confusion about where to go. Across from the elevator was a glass wall, with glass doors in the center. Inside, a wooden paneled wall - on which the logo of Knight Publishing Assoc. was detailed - stood behind a solitary reception desk. An attractive red head was sitting at the desk, wearing a telephone headset. Some plush leather chairs were off to either side behind some glass-topped coffee tables covered with books and other publications.
Carol took a deep breath and entered the office, the receptionist looked up at her as she did so, before going back to the talking on her telephone headset. "Good morning, Knight Publishing, how may I direct your call?" Her voice had a decidedly nasal quality. A pause, then "Hold one moment."
The receptionist then turned to Carol, smiled, and said, "Ms. Vessey?"
Carol was surprised, she had not expected the receptionist to have been on the lookout for her. But she quickly regained her composure.
"Uh," Carol said, "yes, I am. I have an eleven o'clock appointment with Mr. Knight."
The receptionist's smile fell somewhat and she said, "Well, I'm sorry, but Mr. Knight had an emergency come up. He won't be able to meet with you today."
"I'm sorry, I only got into town last night and I didn't get any messages. I can come back another time," Carol said apologetically.
The receptionist smiled at Carol again and said, "Relax, Ms. Vessey. Mr. Knight" she stressed the word "Knight", "can't see you right now, but Mr. Coe asked me to call him when you got here. Hold on a moment."
The receptionist called Mr. Coe's office and, after getting a response, said, "Have a seat, Ms. Vessey. Mr. Coe will be with you momentarily."
Carol walked over to the chairs and sat down. Something about the office made her feel uncomfortable - it was so sterile and bland. 'Come on,' Carol thought, 'its just nerves.' She tried to take her mind of it, by looking over the books scattered across the table top. Of course, all of them were associated with Knight Publishing, and covering everything from self-help to romance.
A few moments later, a large man walked into the reception area. He stood a little over six feet tall with dark hair - slicked back. Carol could see that his hair was long, but in a ponytail. He had a mustache and goatee and deeply tanned skinned. He introduced himself with a smile, extending his hand and saying, "Carol, hi. I'm David Coe. Its nice to meet you in person finally."
Carol stood and shook his hand, saying, "Thank you, Mr. Coe. It's nice to meet you in person as well."
"Carol," Coe said, "I told you when we spoke on the phone that my name is David, okay?"
"Okay," Carol said with a smile.
"So," he said, "let's go have a little talk, shall we?"
With a wave of his hand, he indicated for Carol to follow him down the left hand corridor. As she walked with him, he asked "So, how was your trip? Any problems?"
"No, not really," Carol didn't see the point in mentioning the cab ride. She didn't want to appear naive.
"Good, good," He said. "Here we are," he said indicating an open conference room.
The two walked in, Coe sat at the far edge of the table and waved Carol to a nearby seat.
"Well," he began, "first let me apologize for Victor's absence. An emergency came up that required his personal attention. He wanted me to express his personal apology to you about that."
"Oh," Carol said, with a little side to side motion of her head "its no problem. I completely understand."
"Good," he continued. "Victor would like to re-schedule with you, but isn't sure when yet. Can you leave a phone number with me so that he can call you?"
Carol rattled off her cell phone number which Coe wrote down on a pad. Just as he was finishing, a young man - probably an intern - walked into the conference room. "Excuse me, Mr. Coe? You asked for these?" he asked.
Coe nodded and the young man placed the large stack of papers on the table and then left.
Coe turned to Carol, "Okay, I know that we sent you a contract a couple of months ago to look over. It was our standard agreement with authors. I do have some bad news. In the last few weeks, we have gotten burned by authors who used that contract, so our legal department has developed a new contract."
Carol looked at the stack of papers. It was easily four times the thickness of the one in her briefcase. She asked, her voice tinged with more than a little uncertainly, "Is that just ONE copy of the contract?"
Coe laughed ruefully and said, "Yes, I'm afraid it is. I'm sure you'll want to look this over before we discuss it further. Right now, that's about all we can do. Before anything gets signed, Victor really does want to meet with you." He then slid the stack over to Carol - who had some trouble fitting it inside her briefcase.
"Well, Carol, it was really a pleasure to meet you. I'm sure Victor will call you within a day to re-schedule. Hopefully I will be able to see you then."
Carol stood and followed Coe out to the reception area. They shook hands again, and Coe offered, "I'm sure you'll be hearing from us within the next few days. Again, I apologize for any inconvenience this may cause you."
"Thank you," Carol replied sheepishly. She was still so thrown by the change in the contracts, that she couldn't tell if the man was being sincere or giving her the brush off. In the end, she decided to play it safe and be polite. She waved and smiled at the receptionist who, though she was busy taking another call, returned both.
As she waited for the elevator, Carol saw Coe talking to the receptionist. She was so intent on trying to discern what or more importantly who, they were talking about that she failed to hear the chime of the elevator doors and was almost trampled by a tall, good looking blonde-haired man, who had practically bolted out of the elevator. They both recovered quickly and Carol noted the expensive look of his clothes immediately and, looking up at him in surprise, his intense gray eyes.
Stepping back with a squeak, Carol quickly said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been standing right in front of the door like that."
The man laughed and said not unsuggestively, "No problem. You can stand in my way anytime."
Normally someone taking that tone with her would bother her, but Carol was still too preoccupied with the telephone-book sized contract in her briefcase. For his part, the man continued down the hall, oblivious or uncaring of any offense he may have caused.
Just as Carol had entered the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor lobby, she noticed that the blond man had entered the glass doors at Knight Publishing, walked up to Coe - who was still talking to the receptionist - and put his arm around his shoulders. With a glance over his shoulder, he said something to Coe. As the elevators began to close, Carol noticed that Coe said something else to the well-dressed man, who then glanced back at the elevator - or more accurately, at her - and smiled.
Feeling more than a little frustrated, Carol decided to go back to her hotel, intending to read over the new contract tonight after a late lunch.
***
New York City - The DoubleTree Hotel
December 14, 2000
2:15 PM
Carol decided that she would try to find a place to get lunch outside of the hotel. Feeling a little overwhelmed earlier, she had just eaten at the restaurant next door to the hotel, the Blue Fin. Now, after a night's sleep, and no immediate pending commitments, she felt ready to venture out into the city.
Carol changed from her business attire into a comfortable pair of jeans and a pink sweater. Looking at the new contract laid out on the table, she collected it together with sigh and thought, 'I'd better take another look at this.' She stuffed the contract in her briefcase, which fit better this time now that there was only the one version of the contract in it.
She headed downstairs and asked the woman behind the front desk if there was a good place to get lunch in the near vicinity of the hotel. Despite her earlier bravado, she didn't want to venture too far until she had gotten her bearings a little better. After receiving the names and directions to three different places, Carol picked the second place on the list, Charlotte on West 44th Street, because the name reminded her of the title character from her favorite childhood book.
The restaurant was a small café, Carol took a table by one of the windows to allow her to watch the crowds of Christmas shoppers. When the waitress came, she ordered a small bowl of soup and a Caesar salad. While waiting, she pulled out the contract again. Her eyes felt like they were going to cross as soon as she started to look at it. Digging into her purse for a pen to make notes with, she stumbled upon the business card Mike and Nancy had given her.
Carol pulled the business card out and looked at it for the first time. 'Edward J. Stevens, Esquire. Senior Corporate Attorney, Farmer & Sheehan.'
'I wish,' Carol said, 'that I could remember this guy. Of course, I don't really remember Mike and Nancy from high school either.' She sighed, 'I guess I was just too caught up in the whole popularity thing back then. What a fool! I mean, to think of all the good times I probably missed out on by not being friends with Molly.'
Carol set the business card aside as the waitress brought over her lunch. As she ate, she discovered that her eyes kept drifting back and forth between the contract and the business card. With a sigh, she finally decided that she was never going to understand the contract and that Ed Stevens sounded like her best bet. Hopefully, he would know who she was, but if not, at least she had Mike and Nancy's names to open a door.
Picking up the card, she looked at the address and realized that she was probably in the same block. 'Well,' Carol thought, 'what the hell? If he's going to help me out, I'm going to have to drop the contract off with him anyway.'
Carol finished lunch and paid her tab. Out on the street, she got her bearings, crossed the street at the corner and headed into a building about halfway down the block. Inside, she looked at the directory and found Farmer & Sheehan on the 33rd floor.
Riding up in the elevator, Carol was more than a little nervous. She couldn't help thinking 'This guy probably doesn't know me from Eve and I'm just going to pop in on him.'
The indicator lights slowly counting upward 30 ... 31 ... 32 ... 33! Carol got off and easily found Farmer & Sheehan's offices.
***
Meanwhile, Ed was working at his desk. This time, trying to review some documents Jerry just had dropped off.
"Hey, Ed," Miranda Van Note said, popping into his office. She was an attractive brunette two years younger than Ed. Younger, but definitely more ambitious - well, at least more overtly ambitious.
"Oh, hi, Miranda," Ed said neutrally. "What's up?"
"Well," Miranda said as she took a seat, "I was talking to Ted Andrews over at The Heller Group, running some ideas by him about the merger we're working on for them. He thought they were some good ideas, so I thought I'd run them by you as well."
Ed's face had gone blank. "Um," Ed said, "I don't recall asking you to talk to anyone about this merger. In fact, you're not even working on this merger, Miranda."
"Oh, I know," Miranda said dismissively, then changed positions to show more of her long legs. She leaned forward, allowing her blouse to open slightly. "I'm just trying to help out everywhere I can."
"Miranda," Ed said calmly, never a good sign, but Miranda did not pick up on it. "Let me make this very plain to you. You do not have the authority to talk to anyone about my cases. You will not talk to anyone else about one of my cases unless I explicitly ask you to. If these directions are not clear enough for you, let me know, and I will further clarify them."
Miranda blanched, realizing that she had made a mistake. Ed always seemed like such a nice guy and she had figured that his recent divorce would have left him distracted and she could have moved on the Heller deal. As well as *other* things ...
Miranda stood, smoothing her blouse while somehow simultaneously accentuating her ... assets. Ed continued to look her directly in the eye, if he was aware that Miranda was an attractive woman, he made no indication of it here. Miranda said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Stevens," she said almost coldly, "I apologize for being out of line. It ... it won't happen again."
"I'm sure it won't," Ed said. "Thank you. Now, I do expect an email outlining the ideas that you discussed with Ted. I don't want to give them the impression that we have any communication problems here."
Miranda paled, she realized that not only had her plan not worked, but she had lost some of her ideas - good ideas - on the merger.
"Miranda," Ed said, reading the look on her face, "Whatever ideas you had - if I decide to use them, I'll make sure that you get FULL credit."
"Thank you, Mr. Stevens," then she smiled, then added suggestively, "though wouldn't it be far more PRODUCTIVE if we discussed the matter over ... dinner?"
However, Ed's attention was already focused back to the papers on his desk. Miranda's smile fell from her face. With a final serious nod, she left Ed's office.
Ed stretched for a moment, sighing. Putting aside thoughts of his conversation with Miranda, Ed started thinking about the files Jerry had brought by. Something about the documents bothered him. He started pacing about the room - he always thought better on his feet.
Ed's office resembled the stereotypical New York City law office. Dark wood paneling and plush carpeting. Scattered about the room were bookshelves full of law books. However, incongruously sitting in the corner nearest his desk was an old wooden bat. Ed stopped and picked up the bat, slinging it over his right shoulder, then he resumed his pacing.
Ed stopped, said "Aha!" and set the bat down. He scribbled a few notes on the side of the document. He smiled. It was *HIS* turn to save Jerry's bacon. He was just about to take the documents over to Jerry personally, when his intercom buzzed, Deloris' voice echoing from the speaker, "Ed?"
"Yes, Deloris," he started to sit down, anticipating a long conference call.
"Ed, there is a Carol Vessey to see you. She said she went to high school with you."
Ed missed his chair completely, landing on the floor with a thud.