“Now that might do him some good! I can’t think of a better candidate for that!” Logan laughed. By then everyone had heard about his antics with the woman in L.A., the two illegitimate children, and he had just filed for divorce. Someone at UPI had talked, and they were doing it again about his new job at BT. Logan had heard the rumors too, but hadn’t said anything to her. His information came from a reliable source in the company, not just gossip.
“The plane is a seven fifty-seven, of his own.” Her eyes were lit up with excitement, and Logan was amused. She was in the big leagues too. But all the CEOs in Silicon Valley seemed to keep track of each other and loved to gossip about the latest deals, some of which were astronomical.
“Baby, you should get a raise,” he teased her.
“Damn right.” She pretended to be outraged, but she was enjoying the gossip about Marshall. And she had a pretty sweet deal with NTA. She and her children were set for life, and Logan was pleased for her. It was all way out of his league, and just sounded like Monopoly money to him. Fiona never talked about what she made, and he didn’t ask, nor did he care. She led a very modest life, with all the creature comforts she wanted and no desire for more. She was a sensible woman. “So what do you think?”
“I think he’s a lucky guy. He’s an asshole, but he seems to constantly fall up. It sounds like he screwed everyone over this summer, including his kids, both of the women in his life, caused a scandal for UPI with some bimbo, and nearly got himself into another one with the girl in L.A., and now BT is buying him for a gazillion dollars, and he comes out looking like a hero. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he knows how to play the teams. He always comes out on top. With the big bucks anyway. As a human being, he’s at the bottom of the food chain as far as I’m concerned.” Fiona didn’t think much of him now either, but it was fascinating to watch him manipulate his way to an even better situation. “And on top of it, he’s getting out of Dodge because he screwed over everyone here, including his family. What a guy!”
“Are you going to write about it?” she asked with interest. “You can’t use anything I said, although the gossip is everywhere that he’s leaving and going to BT. I called a friend, and she’s guessing he’s getting close to two hundred million.” Fiona didn’t look jealous. She looked intrigued.
“Baby, I have a source I use for these kinds of stories. I’ve been talking to him all week, but I want to make sure my information is accurate before I run with the story.” Logan didn’t deal in gossip, he was a responsible journalist, and he wrote news.
They talked about Marshall Weston for the rest of the evening, and on a more human note, Fiona wondered how John was going to feel about his father moving to Boston. From what she’d heard, it was a done deal. But Alyssa said the children weren’t seeing him anyway and didn’t want to, in support of their mother. Fiona was curious, but she couldn’t ask Alyssa, in case John knew nothing about it. The deal hadn’t been announced yet, and supposedly wouldn’t be for several weeks, until right before he left, so it didn’t destabilize UPI before they found a replacement. But when it got out, it was going to be big news.
And then finally Logan and Fiona ran out of comments on the subject, relaxed in bed, and talked about other things, and they ended the evening as they almost always did, making love. Fiona hadn’t been this happy in years, if ever.
Fiona heard nothing more concrete about Marshall at work for the next few days, and the hot news was another scandal where a well-known young entrepreneur was found to have stolen a hundred million dollars from a hedge fund, which was small potatoes these days, but a good story, and Logan wrote a big piece about that.
He spent Thursday night in the city, and said he was working on a deadline, but he was due back at her house in Portola Valley on Friday night. And on Friday morning, she opened The Wall Street Journal, alone over breakfast, and found herself staring at a photograph of Marshall Weston on the front page, with every detail she had told Logan the other night. It mentioned an undisclosed source at a high corporate level, and quoted everything she’d said, and more. She was livid. And his byline was on it. There was no denying what he’d done. He had used her as a source and broken his word to her. She would never trust him again. She didn’t give a damn how wonderful he was in bed, he was a liar. She was the source at “a high corporate level.” She wanted to kill him. He texted her before she left for work, and she didn’t answer. She was steaming at her desk all day.
He called her at lunchtime, and she didn’t take the call. She didn’t tell him not to come that night, because she wanted to rip his head off personally, and tell him to get out. She had no intention of seeing him again after that. He was dangerous for her career and a dishonorable person who didn’t keep his word. Trust was the most important thing in her life, and should have been in his. And if anyone traced his “undisclosed source” to her, she would look like a fool. And she couldn’t afford anyone screwing with her reputation. He just had.
She was angry all day and waiting for him in her living room that night when he walked in. She had left work early to be there, and as soon as he arrived, and saw the look on her face, he knew instantly that something was very wrong. As he came through the door, she threw the paper at him.
“What’s that about?” he said, with a look of surprise. “I tried to call you all day, and you wouldn’t take my calls.” Now he understood why.
“I wanted to tell you to your face what a lowlife I think you are. And what a little worm. You made a promise to me, you gave me your word that you would never use me to get information, as a source, and you just did!” She pointed to the copy of The Wall Street Journal on the floor that she had thrown at him, with Marshall Weston on the front page.
Logan’s face grew hard, and he was shocked. “You told me your ‘gossip,’ but I didn’t run anything on it. I waited until I got it from the source I always use. They told me everything you did and more. I didn’t use a word of what you told me, Fiona. I wouldn’t do that. I always keep my word. I got everything you told me, from my source, and more. I don’t take information from amateurs, Fiona. I use pros.” He looked both angry and hurt, and both their voices were raised. Fiona was at fever pitch.
“You told me less than half of what I got from my usual source. I don’t deal in backstairs gossip, I use the real deal. And as a source, you’re not it. You’re smart and you’re discreet, and I wouldn’t screw you over like that. I happen to love you, and what’s more, I respect you. Or at least I did until now. So don’t go accusing me of what you don’t know about. I have only one interest in you, and that’s as the woman I love, whom I make love to, and care about. I may gossip with you. But believe me, baby, you’re no source for a guy like me.” And with that, he slammed the door and walked out, and she wanted to throw something at him, but she had nothing at hand. And she didn’t believe what he’d said. He had used her every word. She read the article again, and there was a lot more in it, but he had used everything she had told him, every word. And her eyes nearly fell out of her head when she saw that Marshall Weston was due to get half a billion dollars within five years. That was sick. And the guy was a prick. And so was Logan Smith, as far as she was concerned.
She stormed around her house that night, slamming doors and opening closets. She was happy that she’d never let him move in, although they’d discussed it as an eventual possibility, but she would have thrown him out now. She did laundry that night and did it too hot and fried it. She put dinner in the microwave and burned it. She got in the bath and ran it too hot. She thought of sending him an e-mail to confirm what an asshole he was, and she didn’t, and she didn’t hear from him either, not a word of apology or even a text, and she didn’t care. She would never forgive him for breaking his word, and violating her trust. She suddenly realized that she was no better than Harding Williams, who’d been sleeping with a journalist and told her confidential information. Now she had done almost the same thing. The only difference was that she wasn’t m
arried and cheating, and she hadn’t divulged the secrets of her own company, but she passed along gossip, and in her opinion, what Logan had done was worse. He had used her as an “undisclosed source,” no matter how hotly he denied it, and broken his word to her.
She lay awake thinking about it all night and was even angrier in the morning, at him and herself. She was sorry she’d ever gotten involved with him at all. She had a tennis date with Jillian, and she wanted to cancel it, but decided to go after all. She got out of her car at the tennis courts looking like a storm cloud, and her sister winced.
“Oh dear, it doesn’t look like a good day. Something wrong?”
“I’m fine,” Fiona said, and headed for the court. She opened with a serve that nearly took her sister’s head off, and Jillian jumped back.
“Jesus Christ! What happened to you? Are we at war?”
“No, I’m just pissed,” Fiona admitted, and served again, almost as hard.
“Lovers’ quarrel?” Jillian asked her.
“It’s over. I don’t want to talk about it. He’s an asshole.”
“I’m sorry to hear it. Anything I can do to help?” Jillian liked Logan, and she hoped the rift would only be temporary. But Fiona looked homicidal. Jillian hadn’t seen her sister in a temper like that in years. She won the tennis game, but at what price glory.
They stopped to talk for a few minutes afterward. “He used me as a source,” Fiona finally told her. “He gave me his word in the beginning that he never would, and he did.”
“Are you sure?” Jillian looked surprised. “With all due respect, the guy is a pro. He probably has better snitches in his pocket than you.”
“No, it was me,” Fiona said, and suddenly looked depressed. “And I like him too. I even love him, that’s the bitch of it. But I won’t go back to him. It’s over. I won’t be with a guy I can’t trust. Besides, it’s too dangerous for me if he’s going to quote me over breakfast.”
“I’m really sorry,” Jillian said. She felt bad for her. Beneath the rage, Fiona looked so disappointed. It broke Jillian’s heart to see it, and Logan seemed like such a great guy, but a reporter was a reporter, and, in her experience, they weren’t people you could trust. Occupational hazard.
Fiona left a few minutes later and went back to her house. She found Logan sitting outside, although she had given him a key. He handed it to her as she walked by him.
“I came to give you back the key,” he said tersely. And he looked as grim as she did. “And this,” he said, handing her an envelope. “I want you to know that I’ve never divulged a source in my life. Ever. I don’t do that. I protect my sources, but I wanted to show you something, because I’m not going to have you think I break my word. I don’t. The material I got from my source is in there. I wanted you to see it. I gave you what he sent me, and I blacked out his name because I won’t betray a source even to you. But you can see what he sent me, and how thorough it is. I pay him a bundle to leak information to me, and it’s worth every penny I pay him.”
“Isn’t that illegal?” she asked him coldly.
“Maybe. But that’s how it works. It’s how I make my living, and how he beefs up his. It’s a system that works. So thanks anyway,” he said, turned on his heel, and left. She watched him drive away, and she was still holding the envelope when she walked inside and sat down at the kitchen table. She opened it and found an e-mail Logan had printed up, from someone at UPI. The name was blacked out, but it was from corporate offices, which was shocking in itself. She read the e-mail, and everything he had used in the article was in there, almost verbatim. The source at UPI had spilled his guts and told Logan everything he knew. Everything she had said to him was there too, and infinitely more. What she could see from reading it was that Logan had told her the truth. He hadn’t lied or broken his word. He hadn’t used her as a source. He had waited and gotten the whole story from the very indiscreet executive of UPI. And as she read it, Fiona felt sick. She didn’t know what to do as she sat there. She tore the printed e-mail into tiny pieces and threw it in the garbage. She thought of sending him an e-mail or a text, but she felt stupid. She had been wrong, and had accused him of something he didn’t do. She owed him an apology. Even if they never saw each other again after that, she had to at least tell him she was sorry for accusing him of betraying her. He hadn’t.
She picked up her purse, and went out to her car, and drove to the city. She got to his apartment and rang the bell, and he wasn’t there, so she sat down on the stoop and waited. Two hours later she saw him coming down the street, carrying groceries, and he saw her before he got there. When he got to her, he could see that she wasn’t angry anymore. She looked deeply apologetic, and was near tears.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those terrible things to you. I thought you used me.” Her eyes were full of the sorrow she felt for having accused him, and he looked very hurt.
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Fiona. I gave you my word. That’s sacred to me. And so are you.” He looked sad as he said it and put the groceries down on the front step. “I would never break my word to you.” And as he said it, he held his arms out to her, ready to forgive her. And she flew into them, ready to do the same. It was their first big fight, and they had come through it battered and bloodied, but still loving each other. And then he pulled away and looked down at her. “You called me a lowlife and a worm,” he said, and he was laughing.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” She looked sheepish and embarrassed.
“I’ve been called a lot worse. That’s pretty tame. Do you want to come up? I was going to cook dinner.” She followed him upstairs, and they made dinner together and talked about his source at UPI. She was still shocked at what was written to Logan in the e-mail.
“How could he do something like that? He completely violated his position!”
“People do. That’s how I do what I do. People talk. Some of my best sources are people in high positions.”
“We fired Harding Williams for that. Well, we let him resign. He was our boardroom leak.”
“I knew you fired him, or squeezed him out! I never believed that bullshit about ‘ill health.’ ” He was grinning. But the story wasn’t interesting enough to pursue. That had been way at the beginning, after the first time she had lunch with him, and he had called her the day after Harding had resigned as chairman. “You lied to me.” He laughed. “You’re a lousy source, Fiona. I’d never use you,” he said seriously.
“I know that now. I’m sorry.”
They slept in his bed that night, and went back to Portola in the morning. Jillian called her that night to see how she was, and she said that she was fine, and she and Logan were cooking dinner.
“Ahh … so you two made up?” She sounded pleased to hear it.
“Yeah. I was wrong. He didn’t use me as a source. He had a much better one.”
“I’m glad to hear it. And don’t ever play with me again after you have a fight with him. You damn near killed me. One of your serves nearly took my head off.”
“I’m sorry.” Fiona laughed. They hung up, and Fiona went back to the kitchen to help Logan with dinner. “That was Jillian. I was so mad, I beat her at tennis yesterday.” He smiled and handed her a glass of wine. “What’s for dinner?” He had brought his groceries from the city, and had been busy at the stove without her.
“Crow,” he said. “I made you an extra big serving.” She laughed, set down the glass of wine, and put her arms around him, and he kissed her. “I love you, Fiona, even if you called me a worm and a lowlife. I’ll have to think of a suitable punishment for that. But I have another idea first.” He turned off the stove, and she had the same idea as she followed him to her bedroom. The fight was over. They both won, particularly in bed.
Chapter 27
Marshall went through security at the San Francisco airport and thought that it was the last time he would ever have to do that. His new plane was being delivered to him as soon as he got to B
oston. This was the last commercial flight he’d have to take, and he knew he wouldn’t miss it. He boarded the plane with the rest of the first-class passengers on the flight to Boston. He was wearing a suit and carrying an overcoat, and the flight crew had already been advised of who he was, and greeted him accordingly, as soon as he stepped on the plane.
There was a young woman in the seat next to him, and she noticed immediately the flight attendants making a fuss over him. They offered him a glass of champagne, which he declined, and hung up his coat for him, and he settled into the seat next to her and discreetly looked her over. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, and she was wearing a Balenciaga jacket and jeans and high heels with red soles. She was a pretty girl, and he commented lightly when they took off that he usually sat next to the air marshal, and this must be his lucky day to be sitting next to her instead. She laughed and put down the magazine she’d been reading. She said she was going to Boston to visit her mother, who lived there.
“So do I. Or I will be.” He smiled at her again. “I’m moving there for a new job,” he said modestly, but she already knew he was someone important. His suit was impeccably cut, and his shoes looked expensive and were perfectly shined. His haircut was flawless, and he was wearing a gold watch. She didn’t know who he was, but everything about him exuded power and success. “How long will you be in Boston?” he asked her, as they settled into their seats for the flight, and he was suddenly a little less unhappy to be flying commercial. It had given him the chance to meet her.
“I don’t know yet. A few weeks. Maybe longer. I might look for a job there.” She was vague and a little shy, and she realized that he was about the age of her father. But everything about Marshall was exciting. He had the vitality of a young man, enhanced by his self-assurance and charm.
“What kind of work do you do?” he asked her.
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