“You don’t know that. Maybe some find a way.”
“Yeah. Maybe we should find a way too, maybe that’s what Hilary is trying.” Vivien shook her head. “Don’t worry. I don’t mean to say we can leave like that, but on days like this, it’s too damn tempting.”
It hadn’t been just days. It had been months leading up to election day, and the following shell-shocked feel of defeat. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Chad Miller’s stance wasn’t where the majority in the country stood regarding women’s rights. Still, he had won.
“I don’t know,” she said tiredly. “If the law passes and you guys get into any confrontation, you could be arrested. Please, be careful. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Maybe Hilary had overestimated her altruism, because Vivien was Kerry’s priority, before her feminist and other beliefs, before anything else. If that meant convincing her to stay in the office and apply for grants more, so be it. If that meant moving into a house bought and paid for by Hilary and Marc Greene—so be it. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
“Thanks. I guess at this point it’s all we can do.” Vivien got up, wrapping the sheet around herself, leaving Kerry completely exposed in the process.
“Excuse me?”
“Chinese or Thai?”
“That’s all you have to offer?”
Vivien looked her up and down, seeming not at all in a hurry to get that order done. “Oh, I’ve got a lot to offer, but first things first. I’m starving. Aren’t you?”
“Yes. I’m also freezing.”
Chuckling, Vivien let her have the sheet, but she also crawled back into bed with Kerry. Their dinner, Chinese or Thai, probably wouldn’t arrive for some time to come. It was a good thing they still had all Sunday to educate themselves on the workings of IVF and starting a revolution. Kerry was confident their answer to Hilary would still be no…but she stopped thinking about that subject the moment Vivien dove underneath the sheet.
Chapter Three
Financial planners. Shareholder meeting in the afternoon. A call from Dana Martin. Hilary frowned at the note. Kerry hadn’t told her already? A gala for an LGBT rights organization tonight—some of the shareholders were probably antsy about that. Hilary had no doubt that she and Marc would enjoy themselves. They got to do something together, in the company of friends.
Dana would have to wait. Hilary knew her well enough from previous fundraisers to be on a first name basis. She might be able to squeeze her in between the meeting and the gala, if there wasn’t too much white noise. She made a grimace in the mirror. The only person who could be trusted to always make noise was Albert Lemon, who had been a friend of Marc’s grandfather and had a hard time dealing with the fresh wind blasting through Greene Industries with the last two generations. Even he couldn’t argue with the numbers, the sharp increase in profit in the recent years, especially the last three quarters. They were still hiring. Employee and customer satisfaction was on an all-time high. They did what they could to give back, and still Greene Industries was growing.
She sighed. Of course, Lemon didn’t think of those numbers as proof enough. He might have voted for Miller regardless of her and Marc’s investments in the opponent’s campaign. Albert would love to vote her off the board, because like every good patriarch, he believed there was something fundamentally wrong with Marc willing to share all that power with his wife. Not that he had much of a choice, speaking business-wise. Hilary owned the bigger part of the company, another fact that people like Lemon found bewildering, and probably scary. They’d had all their lives to see things change, but for them, it still was too early.
Hilary had never thought of change in terms of a lifetime. She thought of generations of women before her, their legacy and that she owed them, given a world of opportunity that they could only dream of.
She straightened her shoulders.
“I take it you’re ready for the arena.” Marc closed the door behind him, and they shared a quick kiss in greeting.
“It sounds bad when you put it like that. Aren’t those supposed to be the people who are on our side?”
“You’ll be great,” he said with confidence. “Just hit them with your brilliant analysis. If they don’t understand, they will be too embarrassed to ask. Most of them don’t care anyway as long as they get to buy another boat or two.”
Hilary laughed, realizing she was indeed nervous, getting worse by the minute. There was some truth to Marc’s words. Frankly, most of the attendees were more friendly whales than sharks. Some partners who had known Adam Greene, Marc’s grandfather, still clung to the old “values”, but unlike Lemon, they had accepted that they didn’t have much of an impact in terms of company strategies any longer. They were lucky, she and Marc. With their donations to charitable groups and activists they were able to pull strings to help fight some of the worst odds—in their own country, and, to a smaller extent, in other places of the world. It wasn’t enough yet. There was so much more work to be done.
“I hope Lemon doesn’t have his Country Club friends all riled up. We agreed that we won’t be sitting on the money from the tax cuts.”
“What are they gonna do, cancel our credit cards?”
Shaking her head with a smile, she leaned into him, grateful for the light banter. The rest of the day wouldn’t be that light. Her and Marc’s approach in terms of growing the company was widely accepted. Funding for the Family Planning Centers Miller had vowed to stomp into the ground—caught on tape at a private fundraiser—would be a bit of a sore point. All of that before she would have mentioned one word about the California venture. Sell it to the board, or sell it to Frances, it was hard to tell which would be the tougher job. In any case, it wouldn’t happen today. There were still months of planning ahead.
“How did it go with Kerry?” Marc asked, and Hilary lifted her shoulders, her gaze in the mirror as doubtful as she felt about the subject—but that was just Kerry, right? She had to give her a chance to look at all the angles, approach the mess Miller was turning their home into like she would approach a crime scene. Eventually, she would come to the same conclusions as they all had, Hilary hoped.
“Not as great as I expected,” she admitted. “They bought a house, plan to have a family…moving is not high on the priority list at the moment.”
Marc looked thoughtful, but he wisely didn’t suggest they bribe Kerry and Vivien to join them. He knew them well enough to be able to tell it wouldn’t work.
“I gave her the overview that we worked out. We’ll see. We could always keep some property, or rent it out for a short time.”
“Why don’t you ask them to come to the gala tonight?” he suggested. “Politics and a laid back atmosphere…that might help.”
Hilary laughed. “I tried with your Dad’s favorite Chianti. If that doesn’t work, I’m not sure what will, but I could call.”
“Miller’s policies will give them trouble at every corner. You have to be safe before you can help others.”
Hilary held his gaze for a long time. It was understood between them that they weren’t just talking about the big move, the dangers at home, and what it would take to convince Vivien and Kerry, anymore. Of course, with minutes away from the shareholder meeting, there was no time to go there.
“True. Which reminds me—the Family Planning Centers might need additional legal counsel along with the money,” she told him. “Miller wants to erase the safe zone, so people will have a right to scream at women right up to the doorstep. We need to get everyone on board today for the budget.”
“Just another slow weekend. I can check in with the legal department while you’re crunching the numbers,” Marc offered.
“Yep, that’s what I thought, the fun part for me.”
“Actually, I think it’s the boring part, but you shine at it, so I’m glad to leave it to you. Look at those good-looking people in the mirror. Who could resist them?”
“All right, stop it already.” She chuckled, casting o
ne last look at their mirror image and admitting that he had a point. Who cared about the Lemons of this world anymore?
* * * *
“Marc, son, I’m not sure what your grandfather would have to say about all this. Is that really what you’re doing with his legacy, associating his company with abortion business and the queers?”
Count to ten first, and if you still wanted to punch the person, you probably should do it. That’s what Hilary’s mother had said. Even if Hilary was still a little high from taking that stage, coming out alive with thunderous applause…the impulse to punch Lemon was still strong. Sometimes, it was hard to tell the people who honestly didn’t understand, apart from those who did and were just plain evil—or greedy. There was still money to be made with being extreme on social issues, and sadly, many players in the same league of Greene Industries would side with Lemon.
Marc gave him a polite smile, though fifteen years of marriage had given Hilary enough insights into his body language to know he probably felt the same she did.
Lemon was aware he was treading a fine line, and he knew what he could get away with, because of his longtime association with another generation of Greenes. She hoped she’d never have to learn his views on biracial marriage. The principles of prejudice and hate remained the same, always.
“Albert, I think there’s some misunderstanding.” Marc’s calm tone held a clear note of warning, but tonight, that wasn’t enough for Hilary. Everyone was a bit on edge since Miller’s win, and their patience running low.
“First of all,” she said, fairly proud of herself for keeping her voice level. “You know where we stand with our philosophy regarding human rights, take it or leave it. I don’t like it when people talk like that about issues they have no idea about, and that includes you. Homophobia and misogyny aren’t welcome here, and you know it, so please, spare us.”
“You are out of line, young lady. That’s what happens when you let women meddle with the family business. Adam’s wife knew her place, but it’s becoming clear to me who’s wearing the pants on in this marriage.”
“Don’t,” Marc whispered to her. “He’s had a couple of drinks, and tomorrow he probably won’t remember what he said. Don’t let him spoil your success.”
Technically, he was right. Technically. She glared at Lemon.
“I know you liked it better when Adam was still around, but you know what, Albert? You are free to sell your shares. There’ll be some re-structuring in the near future anyway, so the sooner we know the better.”
“That your last word?” Of course, he was addressing Marc, not Hilary.
“I couldn’t have said it better. This is what we stand for. We want to make sure all of our employees have the same rights and choices, and that we respect them. If you can’t…”
“You’ll hear from my lawyer,” Lemon scoffed, spinning around to stalk off angrily.
“I wish,” Marc said after he was out of earshot. “On to the real fun part.”
“I need to call Dana Martin back. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the good news.”
“You do that. Tell her we’ll be looking into ways to uphold the safe zone. We can send someone from the legal department before Miller rams his bill through, just to be on the safe side.”
“Thank you.” Hilary lingered for a bit, even though there wasn’t a lot of time to make these calls, go home and change before they had to be back at the gala. “If all of them were on privately owned property, that would take care of the problem…”
“We can’t do everything, you know?”
“Yeah. Let me go make those calls.” She shook her head. “Men have it so much easier. You could wear the same suit at every function, the press wouldn’t care. I wear the same dress twice in a week, and everyone’s screaming about how our stock has gone down.”
“Like you would ever want to be caught wearing the same dress twice in a week.”
Hilary laughed. “Case in point. Let’s get out of here already.”
* * * *
She called Dana Martin in the car, on the way home. Dana picked up on the first ring. People with the right combination of idealism and passion hardly ever observed weekends and off-time. She gave a relieved sigh when Hilary detailed to her what, at this point, they could do for the FPCs of the state.
“That is amazing, thank you so much! Vivien Collins is in charge of next week’s rally, so she talked to the director. You might want to check in with her.”
“That’s fine,” Hilary assured her. “I’ll see her tonight, we’ll set something up.”
“Great. Rally is a big word even,” Dana admitted, “just a few of us trying to make sure those women won’t get yelled or spit at, or guilted into something they don’t want to do. Getting less each week. People are more tired than scared. Bringing your name into the mix will do us all a lot of good.”
“No problem. I don’t know what planet Miller is living on. Women’s health care is far from being all about abortion, but I don’t have to tell you that.”
“No, you don’t. Mrs. Greene, I can’t tell you how grateful we are. I was calling you in the first place, because I had hoped we could have you as our keynote speaker for our Thanksgiving dinner. Before you think I’m crazy, it’s going to be about two weeks before the actual Thanksgiving. We’d be flexible as to your schedule.”
“I’ll get back to you on that,” Hilary promised. “Have a good day, Dana.”
After disconnecting the call, she tried to reach Kerry next. One step at a time. She wasn’t sure how exactly Martin would react when she learned Hilary and Marc would pull some resources for the do over in California, which bothered her. She needed everyone in the same corner to be with them. Surely, not everyone would be able to come, but the project would shine a spotlight on all the half-truths and delusions of Miller and his associates. In the long run, it would improve the conditions for everyone.
“I didn’t read all of it yet,” Kerry said, foregoing the greeting. “It sounds intriguing, in any case. We had some good ideas.” She sounded wistful. Hilary thought she might not be above exploiting that sentiment. It was for the greater good. It was for the good of everyone she cared about.
“That’s not why I’m calling. I’ve got two extra tickets for the EMAs.”
“You’re going to the European Music Awards? Wow. I didn’t think that was your kind of scene.”
“Equal Marriage Allies, smartass. You and Vivien want to come?”
There was silence on the other end of the line. “I had hoped for a little more enthusiasm. Please, come. After the day I had, I could really use some winding down. It’s going to be fun…and we could discuss when you two can come over for dinner. Besides, I’ve got something work-related for Vivien.”
“Frankly, we were going to make it an early night…but, why not? Any dress code we need to observe?”
“Whatever you can come up within the next hour or so. I’ll send a car at seven-thirty, okay?”
Even without visual proof, she could see Kerry shaking her head at this moment. “Hang on, I’ll ask Viv.”
“Yes,” Hilary murmured, and Marc gave her an amused smile. Vivien lived and breathed her work, like all of them, and she was the last to oppose an opportunity to make new connections.
“Hilary? I need to hang up now if you want us to be ready. Oh, and thank you.”
“You are welcome. Would this be a good moment to tempt you into looking at houses?”
“No, absolutely not. I’ll see you later.”
Hilary shrugged. “We’ll make progress on that yet,” she said to herself.
* * * *
At the gala, they found each other near the cocktail bar. Kerry and Vivien looked happy and relaxed, making Hilary glad she had invited them. The workday wasn’t entirely over though. Hilary related the deals of her phone call with Dana to Vivien who gave her a warm hug.
“This is such a load off our shoulders, you have no idea. Thank you. I read your dossier, by the way. You k
now we’d love to come if it was at all possible.”
Hilary had figured that Vivien had already finished the reading, even with her and Kerry having a rare Saturday together. She was that passionate and efficient—a great candidate for the project.
“Really? That’s not what someone else told me,” she said with a pointed look at Kerry who admitted defeat with a wry grin.
“All right. I’ll come as long as you ban high heels over there. They’re killing my feet.”
“Sure. I’ll make sure to add a footnote,” Hilary said, making them all crack up with the unintended pun.
“Did you talk to anyone else about all the details yet?” Vivien asked. “I take it Dana doesn’t know yet, and the people around here are too calm. You guys have helped a lot locally. The idea might freak some people out.”
“Everyone’s welcome. We do the best we can for the groups here, but there has to be a break, a new start for everyone to understand what this is meant to be—and why we have to go.”
Vivien nodded thoughtfully. “I get that. How are you going to drop the bomb?”
Hilary winced at the wording, but she had her answer ready.
“We’re working on a press release, something along the lines of what you been reading, just shorter and simpler. In the meantime, we’ll approach employees coming next week, seek their input. I know some will want to stay in the vicinity, but it’s a big opportunity for everyone involved.”
“If Miller comes through with everything he said he would…I don’t know if I could leave with a good conscience.”
“That’s the point though! We’ll prove to him he’s wrong, not just by arguing his non-points, but by living the alternative. We chose a more progressive state, sure, but that’s only so we won’t face too much distractions and hassles from laws that are ridiculous, but still laws. We’ll still want to work and coordinate with your folks here, so we can help when necessary.”
The Exodus Strategy Page 3
