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“I’m having dinner with Morris tomorrow night. The Rainbow Room.”
“Good. Be a knockout. Eat, drink, and dance. Blow in hi
s ear. Keep him happy. Let me handle the Matherlys. I’ve been handling them quite well for three years. I know how they think. I know how they react to given situations. This must be carried out with extreme delicacy. It can’t be rushed or the whole thing could blow up in our faces.”
His timetable had been in place for years. Now that the finish line was in sight, he wasn’t going to sacrifice all his careful planning and strategizing to recklessness. By doing it his way, on his schedule, everything had gone according to plan.
The first step had been accomplished when Daniel Matherly hired him. By toeing the company line, he had earned the old man’s trust. A major hurdle had been cleared when he married Maris, further solidifying his position. Then, when the time was right, he had subtly, through Nadia, telegraphed to Blume his interest in a merger. Blume was still working under the misconception that the idea had originally been his. Not at all. WorldView had been in Noah’s game plan from the start.
Up to this point everything had been done Noah Reed’s way, the only way that Noah Reed would have it. He wasn’t going to screw himself now by rushing toward a quick finish.
“I don’t know why you’re being testy with me,” Nadia said. “Morris issued the deadline today, not I.”
That had been the one crimp in Noah’s plan that he hadn’t seen coming, and the reason for his querulousness tonight. Throughout his cocktail hour with Daniel, he’d been only half listening to the old man’s rambling speech. Instead he’d been remembering Blume, with his lizardlike smile, imposing on him a two-week deadline to either fish or cut bait.
Blume had reminded Noah that he had been extended ample time in which to review the proposal, that either he was interested enough to move forward and make this deal happen or he wasn’t. Noah had reminded him that his father-in-law wasn’t a minor stumbling block but a major obstacle. “Daniel has stated unequivocally that his company is not for sale.”
“Then you must take bold steps to see that he changes his mind, mustn’t you?”
Blume concluded the meeting by reminding Noah that there were other publishing companies, almost as prestigious as Matherly Press, that would leap at the chance of becoming part of WorldView.
The hell of it was, Noah knew that Blume’s threat was viable. Many smaller publishing houses were hanging on by a thread. They couldn’t compete with the distribution capabilities and robust publicity budgets of media giants. They would welcome the financial relief and stability that WorldView would bring to them. Unlike Daniel, their primary concern was survival by any means possible, and to hell with sentiment.
There wasn’t a sentimental bone in Noah’s body, but he was well acquainted with Daniel’s fanatical adherence to tradition and his family’s history. The old man wasn’t going to let go easily. It was an intricate complication that seemed beyond Blume’s understanding.
“I’m well aware of Blume’s deadline,” Noah told Nadia now. “I’ll see that it’s met.”
“What about Maris?”
“She’s busy in Florida.”
“Georgia.”
“What?”
“You told me she went to Georgia.”
“Whatever. I’m going to chip away at Daniel while she’s gone. I began tonight by pointing out the advantages of Blume’s offer.”
“What happens when Maris gets back?”
“She’ll go the way Daniel goes.”
“That wasn’t what I was talking about.”
I should be so lucky. Sighing wearily, Noah closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Jesus, he didn’t need a discussion of this right now. He had enough to deal with.
“I know what you were talking about, Nadia.” Lowering his hand and opening his eyes, he looked at her. “Think about it. Does it make sense for me to ask Maris for a divorce now? No. I can’t do that until I have that WorldView contract signed, sealed, and delivered.”
He expelled a breath of exasperation. “Do you think I’ve enjoyed being married to her? Do you think I’ve liked kissing Daniel’s ass all these years?”
“That’s a revolting thought.”
“Isn’t it? So imagine it from my perspective.” He hoped the remark might cause her to smile; it didn’t.
“And Maris?” she asked. “Will you miss kissing her ass?”
He gave a dry laugh. “I won’t miss my wife, but I’ll regret losing a good editor. However, with the operating budget Blume has promised me, I’ll be able to hire three of her. Five of her. And even if none prove to be as good as she, I’ll have my ten million to console me.”
