‘I’m sorry. You wanted me to …’
‘I wanted you to think. I don’t need stupid people around me. Reschedule the appointments with the architects and the housing commission.’
‘Right,’ Kathy said stiffly.
‘How’s the baby?’
The question caught the secretary by surprise. ‘David? He’s … he’s fine.’
‘He must be getting big by now.’
‘He’s almost two.’
‘Have you thought about a school for him?’
‘Not yet. It’s too early to …’
‘You’re wrong. If you want to get him into a decent school in New York, you start before he’s born.’
Lara made a note on a desk pad. ‘I know the principal at Dalton. I’ll arrange to have David registered there.’
‘I … thank you.’
Lara did not bother to look up. ‘That’s all.’
‘Yes, ma’am.’ Kathy walked out of the office not knowing whether to love her boss or hate her. When Kathy had first come to work at Cameron Enterprises, she had been warned about Lara Cameron. ‘The Iron Butterfly is a bitch on wheels,’ she had been told. ‘Her secretaries don’t figure their employment there by the calendar – they use stopwatches. She’ll eat you alive.’
Kathy remembered her first interview with her. She had seen pictures of Lara Cameron in half a dozen magazines, but none of them had done her justice. In person, the woman was breathtakingly beautiful.
Lara Cameron had been reading Kathy’s résumé. She looked up and said, ‘Sit down, Kathy.’ Her voice was husky and vibrant. There was an energy about her that was almost overpowering.
‘This is quite a résumé.’
‘Thank you.’
‘How much of it is real?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Most of the ones that come across my desk are fiction. Are you good at what you do?’
‘I’m very good at what I do, Miss Cameron.’
‘Two of my secretaries just quit. Everything’s snowballing around here. Can you handle pressure?’
‘I think so.’
‘This isn’t a guessing contest. Can you handle pressure or can’t you?’
At that moment Kathy was not sure she wanted the job. ‘Yes, I can.’
‘Good. You’re on a one-week trial. You’ll have to sign a form saying that at no time will you discuss me or your work here at Cameron Enterprises. That means no interviews, no books, nothing. Everything that happens here is confidential.’
‘I understand.’
‘Fine.’
That was how it had begun five years earlier. During that time Kathy had learned to love, hate, admire and despise her boss. In the beginning Kathy’s husband had asked, ‘What is the legend like?’
It was a difficult question. ‘She’s larger than life,’ Kathy had said. ‘She’s drop-dead beautiful. She works harder than anyone I’ve ever known. God only knows when she sleeps. She’s a perfectionist, so she makes everyone around her miserable. In her own way, she’s a genius. She can be petty and vengeful and incredibly generous.’
Her husband had smiled. ‘In other words, she’s a woman.’
Kathy had looked at him and said, unsmiling, ‘I don’t know what she is. Sometimes she scares me.’
‘Come on, honey, you’re exaggerating.’
‘No. I honestly believe that if someone stood in Lara Cameron’s way … she would kill.’
When Lara finished with the faxes and overseas calls, she buzzed Charlie Hunter, the ambitious young man in charge of accounting. ‘Come in, Charlie.’
‘Yes, Miss Cameron.’
A minute later, he entered her office.
‘Yes, Miss Cameron?’
‘I read the interview you gave in the New York Times this morning,’ Lara said.
He brightened. ‘I haven’t seen it yet. How was it?’
‘You talked about Cameron Enterprises and about some of the problems we’re having.’
He frowned. ‘Well, you know, that reporter fellow probably misquoted some of my …’
‘You’re fired.’
‘What? Why? I …’
‘When you were hired, you signed a paper agreeing not to give any interviews. I’ll expect you out of here this morning.’
‘I … you can’t do that. Who would take my place?’
‘I’ve already arranged that,’ Lara told him.
The luncheon was almost over. The Fortune reporter, Hugh Thompson, was an intense, intellectual-looking man with sharp brown eyes behind black horn-rimmed glasses.
‘It was a great lunch,’ he said. ‘All my favourite dishes. Thanks.’
‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’
‘You really didn’t have to go to all that trouble for me.’
‘No trouble at all,’ Lara smiled. ‘My father always told me that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.’
‘And you wanted to get to my heart before we started the interview?’
Lara smiled. ‘Exactly.’
‘How much trouble is your company really in?’
Lara’s smile faded. ‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Come on. You can’t keep a thing like that quiet. The word on the street is that some of your properties are on the verge of collapse because of the principal payments due on your junk bonds. You’ve done a lot of leveraging, and with the market down, Cameron Enterprises has to be pretty over-extended.’
Lara laughed. ‘Is that what the street says? Believe me, Mr Thompson, you’d be wise not to listen to silly rumours. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll send you a copy of my financials to set the record straight. Fair enough?’
‘Fair enough. By the way, I didn’t see your husband at the opening of the new hotel.’
Lara sighed. ‘Philip wanted so much to be there, but unfortunately he had to be away on a concert tour.’
‘I went to one of his recitals once about three years ago. He’s brilliant. You have been married a year now, haven’t you?’
‘Yes – the happiest year of my life. I’m a very lucky woman. I travel a lot, and so does Philip, but when I’m away from him, I can listen to his recordings wherever I am.’
Thompson smiled. ‘And he can see your buildings wherever he is.’
Lara laughed. ‘You flatter me.’
‘It’s pretty true, isn’t it? You’ve put up buildings all over this fair country of ours. You own apartment buildings, office buildings, a hotel chain … How do you do it?’
She smiled. ‘With mirrors.’
‘You’re a puzzle.’