“We’ll can’t hold the memorial service until the fire is over but I want to get as much done as we can now,” Adela said. She was eating lunch in the dining room with her daughters. “I’ve decided that it will be by invitation only.”
Pilar looked up from her salad. “Invitation only? Why?” she asked.
“I want to keep it intimate,” Adela replied. “And I want to avoid media coverage.”
“Who are you going to invite?”
“Family, and a few people from Rios Capital, the senior ones,” Adela said.
“But what about the staff from the house and the barn? Some people worked for him for years. I’m sure they would want to attend.”
Adela looked uneasily over her shoulder. Seeing that Lupe had left the room she said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to invite the staff. I’m going to have to lay them off, you know.”
“What about his business contacts and people he knew from the Ranch?” Pilar asked. When Adela reminded Pilar that her father was not really close to anyone, Consuelo jumped it, supporting her mother's idea to keep the event small.
“If you open it up," Consuelo said, "it will turn into a networking event. And who knows what people might say at the open mic segment.”
“There will be no open microphone,” Adela declared firmly.
“Pity,” Pilar said, sharing a knowing look with her sister. “I was rather looking forward to hearing some unscripted remarks about dear Grandpa.”
“Pilar, please be more respectful,” Adela scolded. “I want to bury your grandfather with dignity. And I want each of you to say a few words about him at the service.”
“Are you going to speak?” Pilar asked.
“No, I think not.”
“Then why do we have to?”
“Don’t you want to say something about what he meant to you?” Adela asked.
“We could ask the same about you, Mom,” Pilar replied. “We hardly knew him. When I came home from college last Christmas he didn’t even realize that I had been away. If anyone from the family speaks, Mom, it should be you.”
“Let me think more about that,” Adela said. “In any event, I was thinking of holding the service at the golf club, assuming that the fire doesn’t damage it. They’re good at putting together an event on short notice and it will be easier to keep it private there.”
“If we’re going to do it at the golf club I’d like to invite some friends,” Consuelo said. “Maybe we could have something separate for the younger crowd in one of the smaller rooms.”
“We’re talking about a memorial service, Consuelo, not a party.”
“Who do you think will be in mourning, Mom?” Consuelo said. “You?”
“Don’t make this situation any harder than it has to be,” Adela said. “I’m having a hard enough time right now. You girls don’t know what pressure I’m under. And it’s not just this memorial service. I have to come up to speed on the business. After so many years away, I’m not sure that I’m up to taking it over.”
“You would be great running the business,” Pilar said. “You put so much energy into these charity things that you do, but honestly, Mom, you could do so much more with your talents.”
“Rios Capital is a much bigger commitment than what I’ve been doing with the charities,” Adela said. “And remember, girls, our lifestyle is at risk here. The wrong management at the business would be a disaster for our futures.”
“That’s a sobering thought,” Pilar said. “For all his faults, Grandpa did provide, provide, provide. I guess we relied on him for financial support, if nothing else.”
“No ‘guess’ about it,” Adela said. “Our money has always come from your grandfather. Your father was a wonderful man, but he never made much of a living.” They fell silent for a moment. “I have to step up and run Rios Capital,” Adela went on, “or find someone who can do it for me. And I don’t have much time to make that decision. Your grandfather was not a long-term investor. The way he ran Rios Capital kept a lot of balls in the air and they are all going to come crashing down on me if I don’t move quickly.”
“Can these bankers from New York take over the business?” Pilar asked.
“They don’t run businesses,” Adela replied. “They run money. But they can find new management for Rios Capital if I decide that it’s too much for me to handle.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Mom,” Pilar said. “You have wonderful business instincts. Grandpa always told us that you were the only person that he would fear facing in a deal.”
“He told me the same thing, many times,” Adela recalled. “You know, my ability to close a deal may well have been what he most liked about me.”
“Maybe that’s why he left you the business,” Pilar said.
“And here I was thinking that he left it to me because he loved me.” Adela laughed.
“Something tells me that your favorite color is blue,” Georgina said.
“I like red better,” Gordon said.
“Really? You picked blue clothes yesterday and today.”
“Because they didn’t have anything red. Duuuuh,” Gordon said cheekily. “Can I get washed up now and put on my new clothes?” Georgina hesitated, recalling Katy’s sharp tone on the telephone earlier. There were portable showers nearby, but she was reluctant to undress Gordon and bathe him. She told Gordon that he would have to wait for his father to return. “No, now,” Gordon protested in a whiny voice. “Daddy’s always late. I don’t want to wait.”
“Your father will be here soon,” Georgina told him. “Look, we’re both tired. Let’s go take a rest and I’ll tell you a story.”
“You know stories?” Gordon looked up at her hopefully.
“One or two,” Georgina said. She led Gordon to his cot and suggested that he lie down. When he was comfortably settled in, she sat down on the floor next to him. “Would you like a story about a dragon or a story about a dog?”
“A dragon, please.”
Soon after Georgina began the tale, a staple from her childhood, Gordon drifted off to sleep, his mouth growing lax and his pudgy hands hanging off the sides of the cot. Not long after, Nate appeared at the entrance to the exhibit hall. He waved a small package in the air and walked quickly towards her. “I brought you something from the gift shop,” he said.
“The shelter has a gift shop?” Georgina said incredulously.
“No, the hospital gift shop,” Nate said, grinning.
“Of course, the hospital gift shop,” Georgina said, embarrassed at her gaffe. She opened the package; it contained an assortment of nuts and dried fruits. “Thanks,” she said. “These will hit the spot.”
“I wanted to thank you for helping me out with Gordon,” Nate explained. “And I hope I can persuade you to do it again tomorrow.”
“Sorry, I can’t,” Georgina said. “I’m leaving in the morning.” She took a piece of fruit from the box and put it in her mouth.
“Leaving? How did you pull that off?” Nate asked. “Where are you going?”
“Adela Rios figured out a way to get me to the beach house where she’s staying,” Georgina replied. She offered Nate something from the box. “By the way, Adela is the heir to Rios Capital, as we thought. Mark will be here tomorrow and we are going to work on the transition with her.”
“I really need to know where the deal is going,” Nate said. “When are you going to talk to her about ZIFIX?”
“I’ll bring it up with her as soon as I can but I can’t promise that it will be tomorrow,” Georgina replied. “Your deal is small compared to most of the ones Rios Capital has going right now. It won’t be the first thing that Mark and I discuss with her.”
Roused from his nap by the conversation Gordon lifted up his arms towards his father. Nate hoisted his son up. Still drowsy, Gordon rested his head heavily on Nate’s shoulder. Georgina told Nate about Gordon’s request to take a shower. “I’ll take him,” Nate said. “Could I persuade you to join us later for some fine d
ining? I’ve heard the shelter cooks are preparing something special for this evening.”
“Sure, you know where to find me,” Georgina said.
After Nate and Gordon had departed, Georgina called Pearl and Millie in New York. They were relieved to hear from her, but concerned for her welfare. She told them that she was becoming numb to the conditions at the shelter. That morning, she said, she had accepted a T-shirt from the Red Cross because she could not bear to wear the same blouse another day. The T-shirt had turned out to be two sizes too large and it hung unattractively below the hem of her suit jacket. She had been tempted to take a pair of jeans as well but her desire to preserve her dignity by wearing her suit had prevailed.
“Now imagine the total picture,” Georgina said. “It’s not just my clothes. My hair’s a mess. I let it air dry after I shampooed last night and it’s going its own way. And on top of straggly hair, I’m bare faced because most of my makeup is in my carry on bag and that’s in the car I had to leave behind at the estate. What kind of first impression am I going to make with Adela tomorrow? She’ll think I’m a bag lady, not a banker.”
“Adela can’t possibly mistake you for a bag lady,” Millie teased, “because you will arrive at her house without a bag.”
“Thank you for treating my misfortune with the seriousness it deserves, Millie,” Georgina retorted.
“I’m sure Adela will cut you slack on how you look,” Pearl reassured Georgina. “She’s a woman and she’ll understand.”
“You’re probably right about Adela,” Georgina agreed. “Mark, however, is another matter. He expects perfection regardless of the circumstances. Well, I’ll do what I can to fix up before I see them tomorrow. I’ll wash the blouse and hopefully it will be presentable enough to wear. And tomorrow morning, no matter how long it takes, I’ll stand in line until I get a turn at a hair dryer.”
“What’s happening with the deal?” Millie asked. “Has the doctor backed out?”
“No, he hasn’t,” Georgina replied. “And I’m really not worried about that any more. He hasn’t raised the issue after that one time.” She did not add that Nate had reached out to her and asked her to babysit his son. “I think he understands that this deal is his only option. He’s on board.”
“What did Mark say when you told him that Carmichael might bolt?”
“I wimped out and sent him an email about it. I'm just too tired to match wits with Mark on the phone,” Georgina confessed. “He shot an email right back warning me not to screw it up. His words.”
“And you haven’t,” Millie said.
Georgina signed off with her friends and called Nick. He had news. The anchor of the after market show, Melanie Orr, had tipped him off that FNBS was planning to do reverse recruiting in his case. A network executive had approached her, she said, and asked her how she would feel about Nick becoming a regular panelist on her show. Nick was surprised when Melanie told him that she had assured the executive that she would not only welcome him as a panelist but she even proposed to have Nick fill in for her as anchor when she was on vacation. “This could be huge,” Georgina said, elated at the prospect of Nick staying at FNBS, and in New York. “I didn’t realize what an ally you have in Melanie.”
“I didn’t either,” Nick said. “I told her I wouldn’t let on that she had mentioned the idea to me.”
“Except you told me.”
“You’re my special case,” Nick said. “Since I’m not supposed to know about it, I can’t make any moves myself to promote the idea. Even if FNBS make me a counteroffer, it might not be as good as the one I’ve already got in Washington. We'll have to see how this plays out. Anyway, enough about me. How are you holding up?”
“I’m hanging in there,” Georgina said. “Anything new from your sources? Have you heard what the autopsy showed?”
“Apparently nothing leaks from the Medical Examiner’s Office,” Nick replied. “And no new tips called in to the station either. A lull in the action, I guess.”
“Or the calm before the storm,” Georgina said.
“What? She’s saving someone she doesn’t even know from this hellhole and she’s leaving us here to rot?” Lauren Wahl was livid. Her entire face was quivering. “Why don’t you tell her a thing or two, Phillip? Put it to her!”
“Calm down, Lauren,” Wahl said. “This is no time to aggravate Adela. Remember, my job is on the line.”
“And your family, Phillip?" Lauren hissed. "Aren’t you going to stand up for your family?”
“I have to go,” Philip said. “That detective wants to talk to me again. In the meantime, why don’t you put a lid on it.”
“Put a lid on it?” Lauren was screaming at her husband now. “Nice, Philip, very nice. And should I keep a lid on Christopher hanging out all day with that horseman’s daughter? I told you there was something going on there. I told you. You need to put a stop to whatever your son is up to with that girl. Do you hear me, Philip? DO YOU HEAR ME?”
Phillip Wahl walked away without so much as a backward glance at his wife.
Chapter Fifteen