Kristin Daly, Ben’s number two, offered Natalie and Wyatt coffee and seated them in front of a big-screen TV, a black DVD player squatting on top like a parasite that drew power from all the electricity. They both declined the coffee.
By now Ben was sweating. The fluorescents gave the gleam on his face a ceramic glaze as he inserted the DVD. I don’t sweat much. I grind my teeth instead.
Just before the commercials ran, a woman of maybe thirty came in with David Manning. Walking in front of several people seemed to be an ordeal for her. She kept her head down and walked in quick, anxious little steps. In her inexpensive beige suit she was thin and prim and out of place here in this room filled with power and anger and harsh competence. She was pretty in a shy, almost sad way. Manning introduced her to Ben, Kristin, and me as his assistant, Doris Kelly. She managed a tiny nervous smile for us. Judging by Natalie’s laser-eyed glare, I was sure she didn’t approve of the Kelly woman. Wyatt Byrnes gave her a little salute. Natalie did not look pleased. Byrnes was so cordial most of the time it was difficult to imagine him in a boardroom of business thieves and pirates.
Ben, Kristin, and I didn’t watch the commercials. We studied Natalie’s face. Being an actress, she knew how to conceal her feelings. When the second spot ended and the screen went black she sat back in her chair as if giving the new commercials thoughtful consideration. Then she said, tossing it off, “Well, that’s an improvement anyway.”
Like most slave owners, Natalie had learned that giving real praise only encouraged laziness among the creatures who did your bidding. I had never heard her give anybody in my firm an honest compliment.
“Much better, I think, Natalie.” Byrnes gave me a nod and a hollow smile.
Manning said, “I think you folks nailed it this time.”
Doris Kelly offered no opinion. She was no doubt afraid to.
If Natalie hadn’t given her reluctant approval of the commercials, Byrnes and Manning would either have said nothing or expressed mild disappointment. They’d been trained to wait for Natalie to tell them what their opinion was.
She looked at me. “I want another shot at that Gil Hawkins radio show. Ben doesn’t think it’s important, but I do. I want her to go back on there and tell that man’s audience that she’ll at least reconsider reinstituting capital punishment in this state. Obviously she can’t vote in the state legislature, but she needs to make herself clear that she might vote for it if she could. And I’ve been thinking about the marijuana thing. What she should’ve said was that we might be forced to legalize certain small amounts of marijuana because the police are so overworked that they should be concentrating on more serious crimes.”
Manning’s eyes showed tension, Doris Kelly’s misery, and Byrnes’s a hint of amusement. He was like the little kid you knew in second grade who wanted to see what would happen when you rode your bike off the roof of the garage.
“We can try to get her back on the show,” Kristin said. “But first of all I wonder if it’s a good place for us. You have a hostile host and pretty much of a Limbaugh audience. I don’t think we’re going to make a hell of a lot of converts there.”
“He’s got the best afternoon numbers of anybody in the state. Or don’t you people read radio ratings?” She turned her angry voice on Ben. “I expected you to prepare her better. But as usual you let me down.”
I knew he wasn’t going to put up with it anymore. I shut up and let him talk. The way he was hunched over, you could see he was thinking of throwing a punch. Not at her but maybe at the wall. And the way his breath was seething forth from his nostrils made me think of an animal waiting to charge. But he knew the game, and he’d been slapped around by the best and the worst of them, as had most of us, so he managed to sound almost civil when he spoke. “Natalie, the night before the interview I took Susan out to dinner. And for one solid hour that’s all we talked about. The show. And how she should handle herself. And what she should say when one of his fascists called in and accused her of being a communist or a whore from her old days. I even had a list of likely topics for her. And we went over them one by one. Capital punishment and legalized marijuana were right up there with taxes and war. I gave her my suggestions on how she should talk about them. Just kind of shave them a little bit so that he wouldn’t jump on her. But she said, and I quote, ‘Fuck him. These are two things I really believe in and I’m not going to kiss his ass.’ I went with her to the studio and on the drive over we went down the list again. I suggested one more time that maybe we could go easy on these two particular subjects, but she went through the ‘Fuck him’ routine again. Now, if you want to take it up with your stepdaughter, that’s fine with me. But I’d appreciate it if you’d quit telling me that I’m not doing my job.”
Most people would have apologized, said, “Hey, I didn’t know any of this and I’m sorry I jumped on your back.” But this was Natalie Cooper.
“You’re paid to handle her.”
“Not manhandle her, I’m not.”
Byrnes said gently, “Come on, Natalie. They’re serving panfried trout at the club this afternoon.” He smiled at Ben.
Natalie stood up. I made the mistake of thinking it was over. But Natalie frequently had a surprise ready. She took two steps toward Doris Kelly, hovered over the small woman where she sat, and said, “I’m not quite sure what you’re doing here, Doris.”
There was no way Doris was going to defend herself, so Manning, getting awkwardly to his feet said, “I invited her, Natalie. We handle a lot of things at the foundation for your campaign. I thought she might like to visit the headquarters here and see how things are done.”
“I’m more interested in her seeing how things are done at the foundation, David. She’s not exactly the best secretary you’ve ever had.”
A noise that might have been a sob caught in Doris’s throat. She looked as if she’d just been stabbed — and in a way, she had.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, Doris,” Natalie said. “I didn’t mean for you to get all upset. I’ve already talked to you about being a little more outgoing. You’re not only David’s secretary, you’re also the receptionist. Your secretarial work is satisfactory, but you need to work on greeting people. You’re so damned shy. Now, don’t make a big production out of this. You’ll just look like a fool.”
Then she was gone.
Chapter 6
Susan Cooper stood in the doorway as if she wasn’t sure she should come in. “Hello, everybody. Sorry I missed the morning meeting.”
The only person who spoke to her was Ben. “You look like you’re scared to come in. C’mon, for God’s sake.”
As she entered, her gaze swept the office and the eight people working at their desks. “I’m sure you’re pissed off at me, so let me apologize for being late. But the important thing is, I’m ready now for anything we need to do.”
As lovely and stylish as she was — and despite the fact that she was the client — she didn’t have the authority Natalie did.
She tossed smiles like flowers until her eyes settled on me. The gray gaze narrowed and the smile pursed. She wasn’t happy to see me because my presence told her that Ben had sent for me because he was having problems with her.