“So where to from here?” he asked her, as they sipped their brandy.

“The next public offering that comes my way. Same old game. And you? What are you going to do now for excitement?” she teased him. They had a great camaraderie between them. But she had a fairly good idea what he was going to do next. He had already talked to her about a whole new range of high-tech surgical products that he wanted to develop.

“Actually, I'm thinking about acquiring another company,” he confessed. “Give me a couple of years, and Dow Tech will be ten times the size it is today.” He was counting on it, and planning to work toward that.

“I'd love that,” she smiled. They chatted about it for a while, he hadn't mentioned new acquisitions to her before. He was full of good ideas, and he wanted to strive for new horizons. He wasn't a man who rested on his laurels, and she liked that about him. She wasn't one to do that either. They were both ambitious in a very similar fashion.

They were still talking about his ideas when they went back to the hotel, and sat in the bar for a little while. He had another brandy, but she only sat with him. She didn't want to have a headache when they flew to New York the next day.

And he looked comfortable and relaxed as they sat side by side in a booth and chatted till long after midnight. There was always so much to talk about and share and discuss. They agreed about a lot of things, but she also challenged him, and dared to disagree with him, which he enjoyed about her. They shared a world that few people either enjoyed or understood, and he said that to her with a look of admiration.

“Do you talk to Steve about all this?” he asked, curious. There had never been another woman he could talk to as he did her. It was very rare, in his field, and he knew that.

“Some of it. Not the high-tech world. But he's gotten pretty knowledgeable about investment banking and how it works. He impresses the hell out of people when he talks about IPOs and red herrings and green shoes. Some people think he's a banker instead of a doctor.” She smiled as she said it.

“I still think he's one hell of a lucky guy, and I hope he knows it.”

“He does,” she smiled again. “I'm lucky too. We're very different, but it works. Maybe because we've been together forever. Nearly half my life.” She'd been married to him for fourteen of her thirty-seven years, and that was pretty impressive.

“I was only married half that long, and I felt like I'd been sent to Vietnam and was being held hostage by the Viet Cong. In fact, I enjoyed my two years in Da Nang a lot more than being married to Charlotte.” Meredith could see why, but she still felt sorry for him.

“At least you got three wonderful children out of it.”

“I did. I'm grateful to her for that. Sometimes, it's hard for me to believe they're hers. She seems so removed from them, but that's how she wants it to be.” It didn't surprise Meredith, she hadn't looked like a very warm person when they'd run into her in Harry's Bar. Beautiful, and charming, but ice cold. It made Meredith question what Callan had been looking for when he fell in love with her, if only appearances had been important to him then. And perhaps they still were now.

They sat for a long time talking in the bar that night, holding on to the last moments they were going to share. The next day they were going back to their own lives again, their offices, the people who were important to them, his children in his case, and in hers Steve. But for this one moment, this last evening, they were celebrating their joint victory, and the common world they had so briefly shared.

Knowing that, it didn't surprise her when he touched her hand, and looked at her very gently. “I want you to know how important all of this has been to me. You did an incredible job, Meredith, and you've been a wonderful friend.”

“I've enjoyed working with you, Cal.” And traveling, and laughing, and talking about everything from IPOs to having kids. She had also learned a lot from him.

“I hope we have a chance to work together again sometime,” he said, looking wistful.

“Well, if you're serious about acquiring another company, I might be able to introduce you to some prospects. I'll keep an eye out for the right one for you.”

“That's almost reason enough to do it, in spite of Charlie's objections,” he said, with a smile, and a little while later, he walked her back to her room. He left her outside, as he always did, but this time, he lingered for just an instant, seemed about to say something, and then stopped as she opened her door with the heavy brass key. “Good night, Meredith,” he said simply, watching her. And then, without word or explanation, she leaned toward him, kissed his cheek, turned away, and took a step into her room.

“Good night, Cal,” she said softly, and then as he walked away, she quietly closed the door. She sat down in a chair for a long moment, looking out the window, and thinking about him. A lot had happened in the past few weeks. And she hoped that, whether or not they worked together again, he would always be her friend now.





Chapter 8

THE FLIGHT TO New York on Wednesday seemed to go too quickly. Cal slept, and Meredith worked. Her office had sent her a stack of faxes before they left Paris. And she was still working when they landed at JFK.

Cal woke up and looked at her with a sleepy smile, and then glanced out the window. The landing wheels had just hit the runway.

“What time is it?” he asked, stifling a yawn.

“Two o'clock local time. They're expecting us at four o'clock in my office.” It would take them that long, she knew, to get through customs, claim their bags, and take a limo into the city. “Everyone wants to congratulate you.”

“They should be congratulating you, Meredith. I hope they realize that.” There were times when he worried about her. He had seen very clearly that Paul Black didn't appreciate her, and Cal wondered if her other partners were any smarter.

“They do realize it,” she smiled, slipping her papers into her briefcase.

But when they met with the senior partners at four o'clock for the pricing meeting, everyone shook hands with Cal, and all the partners who had come congratulated him and each other. In the melee of people in the conference room, Meredith was all but forgotten. Paul Black made a point of telling her it had been a job well done, but most of the others were intent on talking to Callan and the other senior partners. She was used to it, and it didn't shock her. They were an old boys’ society of sorts, a secret fraternity that still had trouble acknowledging women. Knowing that, it had meant a great deal to her when she made partner. But as Callan had said during one of their many talks while they were traveling, there was some question as to how far she would go in the firm, and whether or not she had already hit the glass ceiling. For the moment, she still refused to believe she had.

“Meredith is the one you should all be talking about,” Callan made a point of saying to them. “She's the magician who put it all together. She was incredible,” he said more than once, but no one seemed particularly interested in hearing what he was saying, and it annoyed him. And they were all interrupted by the phone conference with the salesmen of all the firms in the syndicate to handle the last aspects of due diligence. Meredith announced to everyone that the deal had been approved by the SEC, and would be effective in the morning when the market opened. They were all pleased to hear that there would in fact be a green shoe, and the only thing left to do was determine the size of the offering, and the price per share. And Callan agreed to stick with the number of shares indicated in the red herring, and to set the price at only a twenty percent premium over that in the prospectus, so that in the initial trading, given the tremendous oversubscription they had, the stock would rise sharply and quickly. Meredith explained it as “leaving something on the table,” which she knew would make everyone feel good about the offering, and allow the syndicate to dissolve immediately. It was the perfect deal, and it had come to the ideal conclusion, and Callan had no doubt that she was responsible for its success from beginning to end.

He said something about it to her two hours later when he dropped her off at her apartment in a limo. He was on the way to the airport, and heading back to California. Their venture was done, the book was oversubscribed eleven to one, they would go effective the next day, and the tombstone would appear in The Wall Street Journal the day after, on Thursday. Mission accomplished. But Callan still didn't feel that Meredith had gotten her fair share of the glory.

“They practically ignored you at the meeting, Merrie,” he said with a look of irritation. “What's wrong with those guys?”

“That's just the way they are. It doesn't mean anything. They know what I do. They're just not very vocal about their recognition.”

“Bullshit. They take you for granted, and you know it. You could have screwed this up royally for them, or done a half-assed job of it, and you didn't do that. You did a first-rate job every step of the way, better than that. I don't believe for a minute that we'd have an eleven-to-one oversubscribed book on this if it weren't for you. The least they could do is say so.”

“That's not important,” she said simply.

“You're a better man than I then. I'd be mad as hell right now if I were you. You worked like a Trojan on this offering. They ought to be carrying you around on their shoulders.” He was really angry, and she smiled as they reached her apartment building.

“I'm okay with it, Cal. Honest. I'm a big girl. All I'm interested in are the results. They don't need to make a fuss about me. This is my job.”

He had made plenty of fuss over her, that was enough, and the stock had been well priced. Meredith was expecting the stock price to rise at least twenty percent above the offering price. Everything had gone exactly the way she wanted. And he felt they owed her more than just cursory thanks for it.

“Have a good flight home,” she said with a smile, as the limo stopped at her front door, and the doorman took her bags from the driver.

“I'm going to miss you,” he said, looking sad.

“I'm going to miss you too. We'll talk tomorrow when the stock starts trading. I'll keep you posted.” She hesitated for a moment before leaving the car, and he held her hand for a minute.

“Meredith, thank you for everything.” It was an emotional moment between them. She had helped him fulfill his greatest dream, and it meant a lot to him. “Take care of yourself. And tell that lucky guy of yours that you both have a friend in California.”

“Thanks, Cal.” She kissed his cheek and left the car, and then stood in the doorway and waved as the limo sped off to the airport. And it felt odd after that going upstairs to her apartment. It seemed so anticlimactic now to be home, and even more so when she found the apartment empty.

Steve had left her a note, he'd had to go back to the hospital that night, but he promised to be home the next day, by the time she got home from the office. “Welcome home … I love you,” he'd said, and she smiled as she read it.

She wasn't upset that he wasn't there, she was used to it, and she could use the time to read her mail, get her papers in order, and do her laundry. And she was happy later that night when he called her. She was reading in bed, and she jumped when the phone rang.

“Welcome home, Merrie. Sorry I'm not there with you.”

“That's okay. I'm tired anyway. I'm going to go to bed early.” It was six hours later for her, by French time, roughly five o'clock in the morning. “How's work?”

“Crazy as usual. Two head-ons, the usual gang members shooting each other up just for the hell of it, and some lunatic who jumped in front of the subway.”

“Sounds like an ordinary night in your part of the world,” she smiled. By his standards, that was business as usual.

“Yeah. It shouldn't be too bad tonight. I'll be home tomorrow. Everything okay with you?”

“Fine. I'm just tired.” And depressed for some reason. But that happened sometimes when she came home from a road show. It felt good to be home, but there was a kind of a letdown. Her baby had left the nest and flown, and her job with it was finished. On to the next one. But there was an emptiness in the lull.

She slept fitfully that night, thinking of it, and when she got to the office the next day, she saw the proof for the tombstone for Friday's Wall Street Journal. It was just as she expected it to be, their name was on the left, which indicated that her firm had been the keeper of the book, and there were several majors out of order, which meant that some of the smaller firms were listed above them, a sign of how hot the deal was, as she had told Callan, when she explained it to him. And she had been in her office in time to make sure that the stock was trading well.