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It was approaching ten, and there was no word that she was out on her ass. But the suspense was killing her.
She had gone through the manuscript on her desk and started on another. Mariel had arrived at precisely eight-thirty and was already settled and preparing a list of agents for her, but she had not seen Jerry. It was time to take the bull by the horns and go and get a feel of what was happening.
"I will be in Jerry's office for a few." She told Mariel as she headed out.
"Are you still attending that gallery showing later?"
"What- Oh!" Stopping in mid-stride, she frowned at Mariel. "It's tonight?"
"Eight p.m., and you did promise Andrea Gayle you would be there."
"She is writing a book on both Jackson and Jason Colby. It's not the tell-all type, but one that showcases their superb talent, and from the initial draft, it will be very good. And I want to sign her." Rubbing a hand at the back of her neck, she considered. "I need a damn date."
"Or you could ask Angeline and Sara to accompany you," Mariel suggested.
Her eyes lit up. "Call and invite them. It's a formal deal, so we have to dress appropriately. If the girls want to talk, just direct the call to Jerry's office. Thanks for the reminder."
"What I am here for."
She entered the reception area, where the bold red and black decor caught her eye. Some redecorating had been done a year ago, and a facelift was given to the place. She wound her way past the various offices until she knocked on the glossy redwood door and pushed it open.
Jerry was sitting behind his massive cherry wood desk and playing with his paperweight while adjusting his letter holder. The office had been passed down from generation to generation and had seen several changes since Jerry inherited the company.
One thing was sure: Jerry might hold the title of manager, but he did nothing. He lacked ambition and drive and had absolutely no vision. He was a fool in business as well as affairs of the heart. His last lover had scammed him out of thousands and gone off to some European country.
"Your assistant was not at her desk."
"I have a yearning for those delicious croissants at Patsy's, so I sent her to get some for me." He stared at her sharply. "I understand from security that you were here since a little after seven."
"I had work." She sat on one of the plump red and white chairs and crossed her legs. "Have you heard anything from Manchester?" She had decided to go to the meat of the matter.
"No. Why?"
"Just wondering."
"How did the meeting go? I had forgotten that you had been bent on committing career suicide by bearding the beast in his office. Was there a meeting?"
"He has not said anything to you?"
"Why should he? It's not like we are bosom buddies. He treats me like an idiot child. I am just here because my name is Gallagher. He is just tolerating me."
"Has it ever occurred to you that you can change things?"
"Whatever do you mean?"
She only just stopped herself from rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Jerry, you have a legacy, this company, which has been around for almost a hundred years.
It's a respectable publishing house, and some famous people have been walking through the doors. You are sitting behind your oversized desk, playing with your crystal paperweight. Instead of just being - you could be contributing. Be the actual boss for a change."
"I am the boss." He told her frostily.
"Then fricking act like it and stand up to the guy."
"If you are talking about Manchester, I must say hell no. He is scary."
"He is just a man." She pointed out as she rose. "Think about that."
*****
