Annihilate Me 2: Omnibus (Complete Vols. 1-3, Annihilate Me 2) Page 9
I looked around the crowded room. “Now who? Where’s the Trojan horse? Is it on fire? I assume it’s in full blaze.”
“Almost directly across from us, standing beneath a painting of someone who looks important.”
“All of these paintings are of people who look important. We might as well be at the Louvre.”
When I said that, Audric Dufort blasted his horn and zipped past us in his sleek, motorized wheelchair. Although I couldn’t be sure because of the crowd’s din and the music coming from the orchestra, I thought that I heard him sniggering as he flew past us.
“That man is going to kill himself.”
“Looks to me like he’s having one hell of a good time.”
“People are having to jump out of his way. Look at them. It’s like making icicles jump.”
“They could use the exercise.”
“I already know I’m going to adore him,” I said. “Look at him! He just nearly hit Tootie. Now I’m forever in his debt.”
“I’m telling you, there’s no one else like him—and I mean that in the best way. That man saved my ass several times when I took over Wenn. He really took me under his wing.”
I glanced around the space. “So, who am I looking for?”
“You haven’t spotted her yet?”
Then, finally, I did. “Immaculata,” I said. “In the blue Dior dress she picked up this morning at Bergdorf’s. And there’s Epifania Zapopa with her, wearing the very white dress Blackwell warned her not to get.” I felt a slow burn grow within me, because I knew for a fact that Immaculata had somehow talked Epifania into buying that dress so that her ‘friend’ would look like a fool.
“Who’s that with her?”
“How can you forget her? It’s Epifania Zapopa, the loose cannon of Park Avenue.”
“Oh shit.”
“She’s actually nice. Her problem is that she came from nothing and doesn’t know what to do or how to behave with a half a billion dollars. She thinks that Immaculata has taken her under her wing in an effort to guide her, but there’s plenty of evidence that says otherwise, starting with what Epifania is wearing now. I’ll tell you the story behind it later, but you should know this—you’re the one who paid for that dress.”
“I bought that dress?”
“Deets coming later. They haven’t seen us yet, so we’re safe. Now, tell me. Where are your board members? I want to meet them—one by one. Where is William Gordon?”
“Bill? I haven’t seen him yet.”
“All right—how about Jonathan Rubinstein?”
As Alex looked around the room, somebody took his photo, the flash of which blinded us.
“Sorry, Mr. Wenn. Just recording the event.”
Alex looked at the short, fifty-something man standing before us. “You’re from the Post, aren’t you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then how about if you take a proper photograph of me and my wife? Her name is Jennifer Wenn.”
“Oh, we all know Mrs. Wenn.”
“So, about that photo?”
“If you don’t mind, that would be terrific.”
“We don’t mind at all. In fact, we’d rather that you take a proper photo. All you have to do is ask, you know? We won’t say no.” He put his arm around my waist and held me close. We smiled for the camera, the flash popped again, and the man thanked us before slipping into the crowd.
“Now I really am blind,” I said.
“Tell me about it.”
“Where’s my martini? Oh, look—there it is. Right at my lips. What a surprise.”
He laughed at that.
“Rubinstein?” I said.
Again, Alex scanned the crowd, only this time he frowned. “I think that’s him over there—by the dance floor.”
“Graying hair? With two other men?”
“That’s right.”
“Who are they?”
“Other board members. Tom Brown and the one man you seem to be most interested in—Stephen Rowe.”
I felt a start at the mention of Rowe’s name, but concealed it. “Looks to me like they’re pretty deep in conversation for such a light social event.”
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“Where are their wives?”
“How do you know that they have wives?”
“Let’s just say that while I was waiting for you to come home this afternoon, I did my fair share of homework on all of them.”
“You’re up to something, Jennifer. Why don’t you just tell me what it is?”
“Because right now I need you to trust me.”
“I’ve never not trusted you.”
“Then how about this—no questions. Can you trust me enough for that?”
“Yes. But why the secrecy?”
“Because, if you knew what I was going to do, it would read on your face. You’d never be able to conceal it. I can’t have that now.”
“You think I can’t conceal critical information?”
“That’s not what I meant—of course you can. You’ve been at war ever since you were forced to take the reins at Wenn. Look what you went through today with the board. And with the press. But neither of them is your wife. And if you knew what I was about to do, I think you’d be concerned and it might show, if only out of concern. I know I’m right here. I just need you to let me do what I need to do, and I’ll tell you later what I’ve done. It’s enough of a wrecking ball that it might smash through the board once and for all.” I nodded over at them. “So, will you introduce me to them?”
“Why do I feel the urge to run?”
“If you do, I’ll just walk over and introduce myself to them.”
“Is there ever any stopping you?”
“Not when it comes to you.”
“All right—let’s go.”
“Just so I’m clear—your father brought Jonathan and Tom onto the board?”
“That’s right.”
“How long have you known them?”
“Since I was born.”
“Do you think they still have your back?”
“Right now? That’s questionable—especially since it looks like they’re commiserating with Stephen, who absolutely doesn’t have my back.”
“You brought Stephen on?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think he’s trying to influence the board against you?”
“After today’s board meeting? Absolutely. No question. He’s after my job.”
“He’s not going to get it,” I said.
“How do you know that?”
“I just know.”
“What bothers me is that he’s trying. What bothers me more is that he can be extremely persuasive.”
“You know something, Alex?”
“What’s that?”
I reached for his hand as we continued to move toward them.
“Sometimes, the right interruption at the right moment can do a world of good.”
* * *
When we cut through the crowd, it was Jonathan Rubinstein who saw us first. I saw him catch Alex’s eye, and when he did, his lips parted for a moment, as if in surprise. Or guilt. I couldn’t be sure. He turned toward the two men he’d been speaking with and said something. Then, they all faced us as we approached.
“Alex,” Jonathan said. “It’s good to see you out.”
“You thought I’d be in?”
“No, no. I just wasn’t sure if you’d be here tonight.”
“Everyone is here, Jonathan. Every member of the board received an invitation. But it’s also nice to see you. And you, too, Tom and Stephen. I’d like to introduce you to my wife, Jennifer. Given how busy everyone is and how infrequently the board meets—with the unusual exception of this week, of course—I haven’t had the pleasure to do so yet. Jennifer, this is Jonathan Rubinstein, my father’s closest friend before he died. He’s also my godfather.”
I held out my hand and shook his. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Rubinstein.”
“Jonathan is like an uncle to me,” Alex said. “As is Tom. I’ve known them my entire life, and they’ve been extremely influential in it. Tom Brown, this is Jennifer Wenn.”
Influential, indeed. Well played, darling….
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said while I shook his hand. “Alex has told me so much about each of you. I’ve been eager for tonight just for this reason. It’s nice to finally have faces to go along with your names and all of the wonderful stories Alex has told me about you since we first started dating last year.”
“He’s certainly told us a lot about you, Jennifer,” Jonathan said. “And he wasn’t exaggerating. You’re as beautiful as he said you were.”
I pointed up to the ceiling. “Trust me, Jonathan, it’s the lighting. I always try to find the right spot and stand beneath it. And then, I don’t move—ever. You see that light right there? Right now, that light is my best friend.”
He smiled at me. “I seriously doubt that.”
“I could move to the side, and you’d find a horror show.”
He laughed at that, but Tom Brown cleared his throat. He was a tall, heavyset man in his late seventies. His hair was still dark, though given his age, that likely was thanks to seeing a good stylist. He had cheeky jowls and wore dark-rimmed glasses. There was a grandfatherly vibe about him.
“Your beauty aside,” Tom said, “I believe Alex talks more about how instrumental you’ve been since you joined Wenn. From what I understand, you’ve personally secured many influential deals for us. I’d like to personally thank you for that.”
“There’s no need, though I appreciate that. Thank you.”
“If I remember correctly, it was you who got us Stavros Shipping.”
“I just had the idea, that’s all.”
“Sometimes an idea is all it takes.”
Jonathan looked at Alex. “The one thing you didn’t say about your wife is how modest she is, Alex.”
“It’s one of the reasons I fell in love with her. Her insight has been critical to Wenn.”
“Jonathan,” I said. “I hear that your granddaughter is attending Vassar.”
“She is.”
“And she’s studying English?”
“She hopes to be a novelist someday.”
“The world needs better writers—and that’s one school that should assist her to that end. Has she written anything yet?”
“She written two novels, and now she’s on her third.”
“So, she’s determined, which is the other ingredient it takes to succeed in publishing. Have you read any of her work yet?”
“Just parts of it. And if I do say so myself, it’s quite good.”
“Then perhaps it’s time that we introduce her to Iris at Wenn Publishing. I’m not sure if you know Iris, but she’s magic. She considered one of the best editors in the business. What is your granddaughter’s name?”
“Clarice.”
“Do you think that Clarice would be interested in meeting with Iris? To potentially pitch her new book to her? We can certainly make that happen.”
“That would be wonderful.”
“Then let’s do it. Iris is responsible for helping many young writers galvanize their careers. In fact, she personally edited my best friend Lisa Ward’s last book, which became a number-one New York Times bestseller. I’m sure she’d be happy to meet with Clarice. New talent is hard to discover—and a gifted, debut author always is a find. Why don’t you talk with her, send me a note if she’s interested, and I’ll personally make the introductions. Iris loves to work with young writers. I’d like to help.”
“That would be wonderful, Jennifer. Thank you.”
“Actually, it might be Wenn Publishing who’s thanking you and Clarice.”
I turned around and faced Stephen, who had been quiet throughout the entire exchange. “I’m sorry to keep my back to you,” I said. “You must be Stephen Rowe.” I proffered my hand, which he gingerly took. “I’m Jennifer Wenn.”
“So I hear. It’s nice to meet you, Jennifer.”
I sensed a coolness about him that was almost tangible. He was a good-looking man—dark hair, green eyes, a dimpled chin, and a body that clearly made frequent trips to the gym. I knew from my research that he was forty-four, married to New York royalty, and the father of two daughters. And I knew more. So much more. I couldn’t wait to tell him exactly how much more.
“I understand that you’re the father of two little girls,” I said.
“I am.”
“You must be very proud.”
“What father wouldn’t be?”
“Is your wife here tonight? I’d like to meet her.”
“Why is that?”
“Just to say hello. I know who Meredith is, of course. Who doesn’t? I have some of her handbags and clutches. I absolutely love them, which is why I’m carrying one of them with me now.” I glanced at Jonathan and Tom. “If your wives are here, I’d also like to meet them.”
“Oh, they’re long gone by now, Jennifer,” Jonathan said. “Those two are inseparable. I’m sure they’ve gossiped their way to the other end of the room at this point.”
“Either that, or they’re at the bar,” Tom said.
“Well, that’s another possibility. But when we find them, we’ll bring them over and introduce you to them. We’ll make sure of that.”
“I’d love to meet them. But before I forget, Jonathan, I wanted to give you something else to consider.”
“What’s that?”
“I heard that your company, Qualcomm Micro, is coming out with a revolutionary new processor. It’s supposed to nullify the competition. From what I’ve read, it’s a game changer. A quarter of the size of most chips, and six times as powerful—with more power on the way. Congratulations.”
The man lifted an eyebrow at me. “I’ve heard you were a business junkie. Where did you read about this?”
In other words—Alex put you up to this. Sorry, but he didn’t.
“I read about it in the Times and in the Journal. I think the news came out recently, perhaps just this week.”
“It did.”
“When I first read about it, I immediately thought of Wenn’s SlimPhone, and whether some version of your chip might work with it to increase speed and to lower costs. As the phone evolves in what we can all agree is a competitive market, a powerful chip is only going to continue to be an issue because the masses are looking for their phones not only to do more, but also to be faster and more robust. Your chip might just solve that issue. Are you thinking about bringing it to mobile? I believe the Times article wondered the same thing.”
“Actually, we are.”
“Then that’s something to consider as the SlimPhone grows. We’ve already sold over two million units, which is unheard of for a new phone fresh to the market. With smart marketing, correct pricing, and strategic planning, it’ll only be up from here.”
“You sound awfully optimistic about the SlimPhone’s future,” Rowe said. He glanced up at Jonathan and Tom. “I wonder why that is.”
“Because it’s innovative,” I said. “And because it’s gotten off to a smashing start. You can’t deny that, Stephen. Wenn’s stock might have taken a hit this week—”
“It’s been hammered.”
“You’re right—it has been. Just as Apple’s was before it came out with the iPod. There are features on the SlimPhone that set it apart from the rest—free international calling; our patented Pure Voice Recognition transcription software, which recognizes dozens of languages; and it’s the first phone to be outfitted with a high-def camera with a micro-telescoping lens. I hope I don’t have to sell anyone here on the SlimPhone’s virtues, but its real value is that it’s the only truly global phone on the market. What will free international calling mean to the world? Especially, to the business world? Obviously, big things. As we continue to innovate, we’ll add more features and services. The R&D that went into
creating the phone may have put Wenn into the red for the short-term, but it’s just for the short-term, as sales have proven. I’m confident about that. I’ve had an iPhone for years, but I haven’t missed it once since Alex gave me my SlimPhone—and that has nothing to do with the fact that he’s my husband. In the year that we’ve known each other, I’ve shot down plenty of his ideas. Just ask him. But this one has always had my full support, because it has options other phones don’t offer. I think that is it’s genius. So do millions of others. Now, we just need to allow that genius to make Wenn some serious bank.”
Before Rowe could respond to that, there was a sudden rush of applause as the orchestra finished playing “The Continental” for the scores of people who’d been dancing to it. And then, to my surprise and delight, the orchestra began a waltz I recognized at once from listening to it at my Aunt Marion and Uncle Vaughn’s house when I was a child in Maine and went to their home to escape my abusive parents. The song was “It’s Time to Say Goodnight” by Henry Hall.
I couldn’t think of a more perfect song or time to dance with Stephen Rowe.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Would you like to dance, Stephen?” I asked.
He looked surprised when I asked. “I’m afraid I’m not a very good dancer, Jennifer. To spare you from any embarrassment, I’ll politely need to decline.”
Like hell you will.
I gave my martini and my clutch to Alex, and took Rowe by the arm anyway. “Oh, come on—half of the people here are loaded. They won’t notice if you miss a few steps. And there’s no need to worry. You’re in luck—I’m a good dancer. Just follow me. I promise I won’t bite too hard.”
I looked over my shoulder at Alex and the other men as I hooked my arm through Rowe’s, and we moved away from them into the swirling crowd. “We’ll be back when the song ends,” I said. “In the meantime, Jonathan, think about that chip and how it might be used for the SlimPhone. It could assist each of our businesses.”
When I turned away from them and moved onto the dance floor with Rowe reluctantly at my side, it wasn’t without seeing the concern stamped on Alex’s face. I knew my husband—he was no fool. Right now, he knew that this was the moment I’d been planning for, but wouldn’t tell him about.