Mistress of the Game
“Jester. I know. He sold it to KKR.”
“Except he didn’t.” August took a sip of his iced water. “That was never Max’s deal. It was Jim Bruton’s.”
“Was it?”
“Uh-huh. Jim challenged Max about stealing his thunder. Four days later, he was packing up his desk.”
Lexi shrugged. “So? Bruton got canned. What do you care? I thought you hated him.”
“I do. That’s not the point.” August tried a different tack. “Max was supposed to be in Switzerland last month, touring pharmaceuticals. As soon as he heard you’d been sent to Africa, he canceled the trip. He’s been in New York the whole time you were gone, playing golf with Harwood and Logan Marshall. He even invited me to dinner at the Lowell, then on to Cindy’s. I’m telling you, he’s been schmoozing big-time.”
Lexi felt her chest tighten, but not for the reason August Sandford intended. Cindy’s was a strip joint, known for having the most beautiful pole dancers in the city. The thought of Max fondling some seminaked goddess while she was in Africa made her sick with jealousy.
“Did you go? To Cindy’s?”
August ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “No. Lexi, I don’t think you’re hearing me. I think Max is plotting against you behind your back. I think he’s up to something.”
“You’re wrong.”
“Am I? What happened in Italy, Lexi? That time that I was supposed to meet you in Florence.”
“Nothing happened.” Lexi sounded defensive. “You disappeared to Taiwan without bothering to call me. Max was in Italy for some deal or other. We had dinner. Who cares? It was a year ago, for God’s sake.”
“Taiwan was a setup. There was no meeting. Someone called Karen, my assistant, posing as Mr. Li’s secretary. I flew halfway around the world for nothing.”
Lexi laughed.
“And you think it was Max? Come on! It’s a bit Mission: Impossible, isn’t it?”
August was silent for a few moments.
“Lexi,” he said at last. “Are you and Max an item?”
The red flush on Lexi’s cheeks was as much from anger as embarrassment.
“Excuse me?”
“It’s a simple question. Are you sleeping with him?”
Lexi stood up. “In what alternate universe would that possibly be your business?”
Furious, she turned and stormed out of the restaurant.
Who the hell does August Sandford think he is? My father?
August was about to call after her, then remembered that she wouldn’t be able to hear him. He got up and followed her into the street.
It was still snowing. Grabbing Lexi by the shoulder, August spun her around to face him. Only then did he realize that they were surrounded by snapping photographers. By this time tomorrow, the gossip columns would no doubt be touting him as Lexi Templeton’s new love interest.
“I think you’re in love with Max.” Having come this far, he might as well get it off his chest. “And I think it’s clouding your judgment. He’s using you, Lexi.”
Click click click.
Angrily, Lexi shrugged off his hand.
“If anyone’s judgment is clouded, it’s yours. You’re jealous. You’re jealous because Max and I…”
“What? Max and you what?”
At that moment John, the Harvard Club concierge, scurried out of the club like a groundhog. He forced his way through the knot of paparazzi, carrying Lexi’s coat over his arm. Stepping in front of August, he bundled Lexi into it.
“For heaven’s sake, Ms. Templeton. Leaving without your coat? You’ll freeze.”
“Thank you, John.”
Grimly, Lexi buttoned the cream wool up to the neck. With a last, furious look at August, she climbed into the back of her town car. The driver sped away, spraying the photographers with filthy, traffic-blackened snow.
Lexi stared through the smoked-glass windows, trying to collect her thoughts.
“Back to the office, miss?”
“Not yet, Wilfred. If you wouldn’t mind just driving around for a little bit.”
Damn August and his stupid suspicions! What does he know? She ran through everything he’d told her again. Max and Jim Bruton had fallen out over a deal. So what? It happened all the time. Max canceled a trip to Europe. That could have been for any number of reasons. Max was playing golf with board members. Hardly a hanging offense. Admittedly the Taiwan thing was weird. But Lexi was sure there must be a perfectly rational explanation.
What she wasn’t sure about was why she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease lurking in the pit of her stomach.
She still felt sick that evening when she got home to her apartment. Normally cooking and watching close-captioned reruns of Friends helped her to destress, but tonight nothing was working.
Changing into her pajamas and settling down on the couch with a family-size tub of Phish Food ice cream, Lexi decided to call her brother. Robbie always helped her put things into perspective, and for once he was actually in her time zone, playing a bunch of concerts in Pittsburgh. Thanks to Lexi’s new Geemarc screen phone, a brilliant invention that enabled her to speak normally into the telephone then have the other person’s speech translated into text in front of her, she was gradually starting to escape the tyranny of e-mail. (Kruger-Brent had made a bid for Geemarc last year but lost out to a German rival. The next morning Lexi had her broker buy as much of the acquirer’s stock as he could get hold of. Today those shares were worth three times what she paid and were still rising.)