Julius looked a little amused, but intrigued as well. "I'm not sure I know what you're getting at."
"The Mago job," Lydia said. "I want it back. I can't afford to miss a single day's production on it."
Julius suddenly looked a little uncomfortable, and had he not been so taken with her, this meeting might have ended right there. But he was still listening, so Lydia gave it her best.
"I'm not real good at asking for anything, Julius," she said, blatantly flirting with him while thinking of what to say next. "So knowing that, be kind to me. I don't handle rejection very well either."
Julius grinned. "I've heard you can be a little hard to get along with."
Lydia shrugged nonchalantly, smiling with her head tilted again, and Reed looked from one to the other and just marveled. Julius didn't have a prayer.
"I want you to consider subbing that job to me," Lydia said persuasively. "We can work together on the price. We can handle it any way you want, running all of it, part of it, whatever. Just consider it, that's all I'm asking."
Julius hung on her every word.
It was fun to watch. Reed was enjoying this. Then, just when things were sounding even better, Lydia snuffed her cigarette out and turned her attention to him and absolutely flabbergasted him with what she said.
"Gee, Tony was right when he sent us over here with our hat in our hand, wasn't he?"
His mouth dropped. He even stopped breathing. Julius appeared stunned as well.
"Tony? Tony Armato?"
Lydia nodded matter-of-factly, appearing not to notice the two men's reactions. "Yes, Tony Armato. He told me the quality over here...."
Julius interrupted her. "Tony sent you to see me?"
Lydia nodded again. This time, figuring she couldn't ignore his reaction any longer without coming across as totally dense, she addressed it somewhat. "Yeah, I know, he can be a real son of a bitch sometimes. But he said for me to come over here and talk to you and that he was sure we could come to terms. With your quality problems and all, I guess he figured...."
Julius looked mad enough to spit. Reed, now breathing again and swallowing hard, tried smoothing things over. "What Lydia means is, uh, is that, since we're set up to run that job, and uh...Tony knows the operation over here, he suggested maybe you'd be interested in uh, subbing it to us initially to um...."
Julius appeared to be buying it too, a little at least. Then Lydia had to go and say, "No, what he said was that the only way they'd be able to pass the initial inspection was to get us to run the parts for them, sneaking them in and out the back door if need be. That's what he said. And that's what made me realize how much we needed each other."
Now it was Julius who was speechless, and taking that as a good sign it was time to leave, Lydia reached for her purse and stood up, bringing Reed to his feet with her. "Well, we've taken up enough of your time," she said. "But please, give this some thought. I really need that job, Julius." The word need came across as a desperate plea. "We both do. So let's work together on it."
Julius managed some sort of nod, and Reed extended his hand. "Thank you for seeing us, Julius. I'm sure we'll be talking."
Following Lydia out, Reed was quiet until they got to the car. "What was that all about?"
"Pennies, Reed," Lydia said solemnly. "Pennies, and just feeling him out. Now come on, let's go to the bank."
Richard Robert was as cheerful as can be. "Oh, Miss Merchant, so nice to see you! Are you here to talk investments?"
"No, not today. As soon as I get a breather, though, I will. Right now, I need to see you about something more urgent."
Richard Robert nodded, but persisted while showing them back to his desk. "Your money should work for you. It should never sit idle. Presently, there are several investment options…."
"Not today, please,” Lydia said, assuming look of malaise. "It's the wrong time of the month."
Richard Robert nodded sympathetically. "How can I help you?"
Lydia handed him a piece of paper. "I need you to look up this check number for me. It just might clear up the error I have in that account."
"Don't you have the canceled check?"
"Oh, somewhere, I'm sure. I just don't have the time to search for it right now."
Richard Robert glanced at Reed and smiled before looking back. "I suppose you need this yesterday?"
Lydia nodded. "Do I need to fill out anything?"
"No, I can do this without paperwork. I'll call you as soon as I have the information."
Lydia thanked him, and outside, Reed had to ask, "The wrong time of the month? Still?"
"No, not really," Lydia said. "But if you can use it as an excuse for my moods, I figured so can I." They both laughed.
When they got to the plant, Reed went one way, Lydia the other. Once upstairs she buzzed Jan to let her know she was back. "Any messages?"
"Yes," Jan said. "Sharon called. She said you'd know who it was. She didn't leave a number. She said she'd try you later. Also Greg Stewart called. He said he'll call you later, too. And Mr. Robert from the bank just called. He says he has the information you requested, but that he'll be out of the office until two. You can call him then."
"Thanks," Lydia said. "Oh, and by the way, do you know who around here wears English Leather cologne?"
"No, I don't. I'm sorry. I don't even know the scent."
Lydia sighed, thanking her anyway, switched lines, and dialed Sharon's number. She wasn't home. Lydia let it ring at least fifteen times, then hung up and walked over to the window and looked out at the shop.
Reed was down at one end talking to Tony. She watched them for a moment. When Tony threw his hands up and headed toward the stairs, she drew a deep breath and turned around, bracing herself. He wasn't even through the door when he started. "What in the hell did you think you were doing?"
"Um...I'm not sure. What are you referring to?"
"You know damned well what I’m talking about!" he said, walking toward her. "So spare me your games! Okay?!"
Lydia glanced past him to Reed, who was just now coming in the door and, deciding she didn't need any of this, started around Tony. But he backed up and blocked her way.
"Make some sense of this for me," he said, his eyes ablaze. "Because I fail to see any normal logic to it." Lydia never got a word out. "We suspect someone's switching parts on us, and what do you do? You go down the road, like a typical woman...."
Lydia saw red. "A typical woman? Would you care to retract that?"
Tony shook his head, glaring at her, his heart pounding against his moist shirt. "What was the point? Just tell me that!"
"The point," Lydia said, stepping closer, glaring right back at him, "was to rattle someone. I didn't expect it to be you. But I should've known."
"And what were you hoping to accomplish?"
"Hey! Julius Randall isn't exactly a fan of yours anyway, so my tossing your name...."
Tony threw his hand up. "I don't give a flying fuck what Julius thinks of me! What I care about is your telling him that we know he's been messing with our parts!"
Lydia stepped back, looking from one to the other. Suddenly it dawned on her. They knew. They knew, and they had been keeping it from her. "Speaking of playing games...."
Reed started to say something, but Lydia wouldn't hear any of it. "Don't bother, Reed!" she said, furious with him. "I wouldn't believe you now anyway!"
"Lydia…." He knew better than to push her. But this was unfair. It wasn't his decision not to tell her. "Please...." Lydia refused to even look at him, staring off and building up steam. Reed just stood there a moment, feeling helpless, then stormed out, slamming the door behind him. She turned on Tony.
"I think you owe me an explanation."
"Oh yeah?" he said. "Well that's funny, because I think it's the other way around."
"You knew it was Forrester, didn't you? You knew it, and you kept it from me. Why?"
Tony drilled her with his eyes. "Why? For several reason
s. And obviously good ones, otherwise you'd have just run down there sooner."
"No, wrong," Lydia said. "I wouldn't have. Not as blindly at least. I went on the assumption that you had no proof, and since there's only one way I know how to do things…."
"And how would that be?" Tony asked sarcastically.
"On instinct. I do everything on instinct."
Tony stepped closer. "Yeah...well I go on fact. And I don't let my imagination get in the way."
Lydia drew an enraged breath. "You know, I think I've tried just about everything to get along with you. I really have. I don't tell you what to do. In fact, I’d say I let you do just about anything you damned well please. But you have a problem...."
Tony crossed his arms, glancing away and rolling his eyes at this. Lydia was livid. She stomped her foot and clenched her fists. "Damn you! Who in the hell do you think you are?"
"Just a man trying to do my job, Miss Lydia. And I don't need you running around making it any harder for me."
"Harder for you?!" Lydia mocked, all but shouting. "You seem to be forgetting, you work for me!"
"That's right!" Tony said, stepping even closer. "I do! You didn't leave me much choice! But I'll be goddamned if I'm going to take your shit! So from here on in, if you want to know what's going on, stay out of my way and let me figure it out and try keeping what I tell you to yourself! Now…do you think you can do that?"
Lydia drew her arm back to slap him, which would have been her answer, but he grabbed her wrist and, gripping it tight, pulled her close. His eyes were on fire, his voice low and husky. "Did you think I was going to stand for that?" he asked. "Or is this how you normally get your way?"
Lydia couldn't even swallow, let alone speak. She could only stare up at him - so close and so angry.
"You know," he said. "Since I got out of prison, I've had to put up with a lot. I've been looked down on, passed over, made to feel like...." He let go of her wrist and backed up. "But I'm not going to compromise here. Not with you.”
Lydia just stood there. It was all she could do. But when he turned and started walking away, she felt a sudden sense of panic and called after him, "Tony…."
He stopped at the door, staring down at the floor and then, shaking his head, slowly turned back around.
"I'm sorry," she said, swallowing. "I've never done anything like that before. I get mad easily, but...." She searched his eyes. "I'm scared, Tony. I'm losing it. I don't know what to do. I've got all these people depending on the decisions I make, and I'm so afraid of making the wrong ones."
Tony shifted his weight, glaring at her.
"Please don't leave," she said. "We need you here."
Tony shook his head. "We, Miss Lydia, isn't good enough."
Lydia hesitated, trembling inside. "I need you, Tony. I don't think I can do this without you."
Tony looked at her for a moment, then slowly, his expression softened. "I think, finally," he said, "you and I agree on something."
Lydia tried to smile, but couldn't, and Tony started to leave. "Tony...?"
He glanced back, each searching the other's eyes for a brief second., then nodded, smiling faintly. With that, he walked out.
Chapter Fifteen
Considering Lydia's train of thought as the day went on, Richard Robert's news was taken rather well. "Bullshit! Damn! Balls! What do you mean the check was made out to me?"
"I'm looking right at it," he said, somewhat shocked by her ornate response. "It's made out to you and endorsed by you."
Silence.
"Is there a problem with this check, Miss Merchant?"
"Uh, no," Lydia lied. "It just slipped my mind, that's all. Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. Oh, and uh...about the statements…?"
"They're in the works. But while I have you on the phone, if we can set up a date to discuss a financial package."
"Uh, I'm not sure of my schedule," Lydia said, her mind racing and caring even less about this. "But when I have time..."
"Time is money."
How clever, Lydia thought. "You're gonna have to excuse me," she said, and fumbling with a cigarette, she hung up and phoned her father immediately.
Betty answered, sounding out of breath. "Oh praise the Lord, Miss Lydia! I was just gonna call you's!"
"Why? What's wrong?"
"It's you's daddy! He just give us quite a scare!"
"What do you mean?"
"I found him lyin' on the floor, sweatin' and all, and gaspin' like..."
"Is he all right?"
"Yesmmm, Miss Lydia. Me'n George got him into bed, and he says he's feelin' better, but I called the doctor anyway. He's on the way."
Lydia grabbed her purse. "I'm coming too," she said, and pushing the speed limit, she arrived just as Dr. Jones was completing his examination.
Betty was standing at the foot of the bed, praying softly, a sight that brought back painful memories. Lydia hesitated at the door, then walked around to the other side of the bed, touching Betty's shoulder lightly, and reached for her father's hand.
He smiled. "I'm fine, dear. Don't worry."
Lydia squeezed his hand gently, wanting to believe him, but something in his eyes said differently. She looked at Dr. Jones. "Should he go to the hospital?"
"No, I don't think so," he said and sat down on the bed. "John, what were you doing when this happened?"
"Nothing."
"Has anything like this ever happened before?"
John shook his head, but Betty disagreed. "What about the time in the garden?"
John shrugged, saying he couldn't remember, and Dr. Jones asked Betty about it.
"He wasn't bad like today," she said. "He jess got windy and tired."
Dr. Jones nodded, deep in thought as he turned back to John, then gathered his things and stood up. "I don't think there's anything to be alarmed about, John, but for the next few days, I want you to do nothing but rest. Bed rest. I’ll check with you then, and…."
"But shouldn't he go to the hospital just to be safe?" Lydia said anxiously. "For tests or something?"
Dr. Jones shook his head, saying again how he didn't feel it was necessary, and gave Betty some instructions. She was to call him if there were any reoccurrences. Then he motioned for Lydia to walk out with him.
"What if it's his heart?" Lydia asked, when they were down in the foyer.
"I don't believe it is. Otherwise...."
Lydia smiled thankfully. "Otherwise" meant otherwise he'd be in the hospital, and that was reassuring. "What do you think it is then?"
"I believe that it's anxiety."
This too seemed reassuring at the moment. "I called Dr. Remington like you suggested, but he's out of town until next week. So until then...."
Dr. Jones touched her arm affectionately. "Until then, spend as much time with him as you can. You're the best medicine I can prescribe for him right now."
Lydia thanked him, noticing only now how much this lifelong friend of her father's had aged since she'd seen him last. When he left, she downed a Scotch, put a smile on her face, and went back upstairs.
"He says you're gonna be just fine. Nothing to worry about."
* * *
Lydia stayed at her father's bedside until he fell asleep, trying hard to convince herself that he was going to be fine. After downing another Scotch, she told Betty she'd be by later and left for the plant. She was just starting to relax, when she remembered about that eighty-four thousand dollar check.
It was obvious she couldn't ask her father about it again, not now anyway. Deciding she'd have to see the signature before even considering what to do next, she phoned Richard Robert as soon as she got to the conference room.
"What do you mean, it'll take a few days? You said you were looking at a copy of it earlier!"
"Perhaps I did say that, but actually what I was looking at was microfilm."
Lydia let out a frustrated sigh, one that had Richard Robert clearing his throat apprehensively. "And you're going
to have to come down here and fill out a request form for a copy."
"Fuck the form!"
A momentary silence followed Richard Robert's gulp. "I'm sorry, but it's bank policy. To give out information is one thing...a copy is another."
"I was already down there once today. Remember?"
"I know, and I'm truly sorry. But policy is policy."
`Lydia glanced at her watch. It was four-thirty. "How late will you be there?"
"I'll wait for you," Richard Robert said.
Fifteen minutes later, she was in his little cubicle, handing the form back to him. "Is that it?" she asked.
"Yes, and I've started the process already, so perhaps I can have it for you as early as tomorrow."
"What about the statements?"
"Perhaps tomorrow also. But since you're here now, maybe you would allow me to touch on a few financial plans. I have a friend in our investing...."
Lydia came close to telling him what she thought of his persistence. She came really close. This was getting old. But he beamed at the mere mention of his friend, and she relented. "Oh? And who might that be?"
"Philip Carmichael," he said, ever so proudly.
Lydia smiled, begging off again, but assured him she would keep them in mind. Back on the road, she stopped at McDonald's, and while sitting in the parking lot, munching on fries, she noticed someone in the drive-thru lane that looked familiar.
He wore a cowboy hat and sunglasses, which made it hard to place him at first, but when he opened his mouth, there was no mistaking the gold fangs.
She flew out of the car. "Dan! Dan Morris!"
One look in the direction of her voice, and Dan threw his car into reverse, crashing into a van behind him. Then, lurching forward, he clipped the car in front and screeched off.
"Damn you!" Seeing she'd never catch him by chasing after him, Lydia doubled back and ran down between the building and the dumpsters, hoping to head him off. But no such luck. He sped right toward her.
She jumped back out of the way, tripping on the curb, and almost fell. "Wait!" she shouted. "Stop! Please!" And finally, choking in his dust, she screamed, "You son of a bitch! I hope you wreck!"
Call Me Lydia Page 20
