Power Play: A Novel Read online

  Chapter 9

  Fiona was still waiting for answers from the investigation service that was analyzing the board and checking on its members, when she got a call from a well-known investigative business reporter the day after Marshall Weston’s press conference about the sexual harassment suit. The reporter’s name was Logan Smith, and she knew his name and had read his pieces for years, which were frequently in The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, and business and financial magazines. He was best known for his incisive points of view, sometimes unpopular ones. He had fearlessly exposed money-laundering operations and corruption, and he wrote best about controversial issues. And she vaguely remembered that he had won a Pulitzer, although she didn’t know exactly what for. She had no idea why he’d be calling her, and hoped it wasn’t about the leak. At first she wasn’t inclined to take the call, she didn’t like talking to the press. And then she decided that avoiding him might be even more dangerous. So she picked up the receiver, and answered with a slightly harassed voice. She was even more so than her tone indicated.

  “Fiona Carson,” she said, sounding curt. But she was the CEO and could afford to be prickly at times. She had a huge amount of responsibility to contend with.

  “Hello, Ms. Carson, my name is Logan Smith.” She smiled to herself. His name was as well known in the business community as her own. She wasn’t sure if he was being modest or showing off. It could have been either one. He had a deep, pleasant voice, and sounded young. She had no idea how old he was. All she knew about him was the Pulitzer and the articles she’d read, some of which could be acutely hostile to big business. He left no stone unturned in the course of his in-depth reporting, no matter how uncomfortable it made his subject. He was a seeker of the truth, and often acted as though he was on a holy mission.

  “Yes, I know who you are,” she said, with a look of amusement. “That’s why I took the call. What can I do for you, Mr. Smith?”

  “I wondered if you have any comment about the recent sexual harassment charges made against Marshall Weston by a former employee. I’m writing a piece about the sexual habits, liberties, and sometimes perversities of men in power. Any thoughts?” She almost winced at his words. The last thing she wanted to do was comment about another CEO’s sexual habits, and she didn’t know the man.

  “I thought the former employee retracted her claim against him yesterday. Isn’t that old news today?”

  “Not really. And yes, she did recant, although we’ll never know exactly why. A lot of behind-the-scenes fancy footwork goes on, cleaning up those claims, as we both know. He may have paid her off. They said there was a ‘settlement’ to avoid litigation. But you know what that means.”

  “Fortunately, I don’t. I’ve never had sexual harassment charges brought against me in the workplace or anywhere else.”

  “Actually, that’s one of my theories,” he said, sounding pleasant and warming to the subject, “that women never engage in those activities. When was the last time you heard about a female CEO involved in a sex scandal, or sleeping with a male bimbo? What about Weston? Do you think her claim against him was valid, or just a ploy for money and she withdrew because she didn’t have a case?” It was anyone’s guess, and they’d never know. Fiona felt herself instantly on thin ice with his questions, a place where she did not want to be. But she was much too smart for that.

  “I have absolutely no idea,” she said innocently. “I don’t even know the man.”

  “You’ve never met him?” Logan sounded surprised. “Don’t CEOs go out and play together occasionally, or have a secret handshake or a clubhouse somewhere where they hang out?” She laughed. He was funny, and bright. But that also made him more dangerous, and she didn’t plan to enter his game.

  “I wish we did. That would be fun. Actually, I’ve met Marshall Weston a few times, at Senate subcommittee hearings in Washington where we both appeared. We shook hands on the way in, and that was it. I have no idea what his habits are, and no interest in them. Nor if the allegations against him were true or not.”

  “How disappointing,” Logan Smith said honestly. “I was hoping I could lull you into a little loose-lipped indiscretion about him. Some nice friendly gossip among rivals.”

  “We’re not rivals,” she corrected him. “We have similar jobs for two very different companies. And I hear he does an excellent job.”

  “And you’re not loose-lipped either. My efforts to pry inappropriate information from you have been a total bust.” She laughed aloud at that. “What do you think about my theory, about the difference between male and female CEOs and their sexual habits?” She wasn’t going to give him a quote on that either. In fact, she wasn’t going to give him anything, except two minutes of her time on the phone, no comment, and then send him on his way and wish him well.

  “You should talk to my sister,” Fiona said pleasantly, “Jillian Hamilton. She’s a psychiatrist at Stanford. She’s writing a book on the subject. She’s as fascinated by it as you are, and said pretty much the same thing to me.”

  “In what context? About anyone we know?” He was looking to hang his hat on something, and Fiona had given him nothing so far, although he liked talking to her. She sounded easygoing and very intelligent. Her sister probably was too.

  “About men and women in general. And she claims that she uses me as a guinea pig for her research, about female CEOs.”

  “And what’s her conclusion?” he asked with interest.

  “That we work just as hard, don’t have nearly as much fun as our male counterparts, and are better behaved.”

  “That’s my point,” he said, sounding excited. “I think your sister and I are really on to something. Guys in power seem to go berserk, and it becomes sexual for them. For women it becomes like some sort of vow of chastity and dedication. They don’t do anything but work.” And then he came right back to his topic. “So you’ve got nothing to say about Marshall Weston?” he tried again, and she didn’t volunteer that her daughter was dating his son. It was none of his business anyway, and might make him think she knew him better than she did, which was not at all. All she actually knew about him was that he had a nice kid, according to Alyssa.

  “I wouldn’t presume to comment about a man I don’t know,” she said wisely.

  “That never stops anyone else,” he said, laughing.

  “Would you like to talk to my sister about her book? Maybe the two of you can share ideas.”

  “Not yet,” Smith said honestly, “although I might like to interview her eventually, about her book, and how she arrived at her theories. Mine come from careful observation and writing about the heads of corporations for many years. Actually, there is something else I want to ask you.” She hoped it wouldn’t be about her sex life. If so, she wasn’t going to answer him. “What about letting me do an in-depth profile of you? I’ve wanted to for years.” She was startled by what he said, although she had had numerous requests. There had been one piece about her in Time magazine when she first took the job, in the business section, but usually she declined interviews. She didn’t want the spotlight on her. It was unnecessary and she didn’t like it.

  “That’s very flattering, Mr. Smith,” she responded, “but I don’t think so. I’m not much for publicity. I prefer to stay behind the scenes and do the work. That works better for me.”

  “That’s why you’re so interesting,” he explained. “I’ve been watching you for years. I never hear about you, one rarely reads of you. You just run the corporation with incredible efficiency, and go about your business. And the value of the NTA stock goes up every five minutes. As a matter of fact, the only money I’ve ever made in the stock market was thanks to you.”

  “I’m happy to hear it.” She smiled at the compliment, which was the only kind she was interested in, about her skill in business. “But that’s really all the public needs to know. If I’m doing my job right, that’s all anyone needs to hear about. Where I went to school, what I eat for breakfast, and whethe
r or not I get my hair done is all irrelevant.” He had heard the theory before, but if enough people felt as she did, he would have been out of a job, so it wasn’t a philosophy he loved.

  “You went to Harvard, right?” He was just checking, but remembered that about her. He had always been intrigued by her, and how quiet she was. The public knew a lot more about Marshall Weston, particularly now. He made a lot more noise, as most of the male CEOs did.

  “Yes, I did,” she confirmed, “but there are a lot of other good schools in the country, and business schools, that turn out fine young people who wind up in important jobs and have great careers.” Like her own daughter at Stanford, and several of her friends. But she didn’t say that to him. It was more personal information than she wanted to share.

  “You don’t give away anything about yourself, do you?” he complained. “That’s why I want to interview you. People deserve to know more about you, especially your stockholders. You’re a hero in the business world, and you refuse to act like one. That’s because you’re a woman. If you were a man, you’d be blowing your own horn, and out chasing bimbos,” he added. “And you’d make a lot more noise.”

  “That’s one of my sister’s theories too. You two really should get together. You have a lot in common.”

  “We’d probably bore each other to death, or argue about who thought of what first. Similarities don’t usually attract.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting you go out with her.” She thought it was a good idea, but she wouldn’t admit it to him. “Just talk.”

  “I’ll call you for her number sometime. Now I’m going to go to the sleazy bar across the street from my office and cry in my beer, because you told me absolutely nothing I can use about Marshall Weston for the article I’m working on, with a deadline, I might add. And you won’t give me an interview. You win. I must be losing my touch.” He wasn’t, but she was relentlessly discreet, which was what he had suspected about her too. But she was also pleasant to talk to, which had surprised him, and she sounded like a real human being. Just one who didn’t talk to the press, or divulge anything private about herself. And he admired that about her. Some of his male interview subjects had such big egos, he could barely fit them on the page. She was the opposite of that, although he was sure she had one too. She was just a hell of a lot more modest.

  “Thank you for calling,” she said sincerely. “It was nice talking to you.” She dismissed him politely. And after they hung up, Smith looked up Jillian Hamilton on the Internet. He was curious about her sister too, and wondered if he had read anything she’d written. Her credentials were impressive, the list of books and articles she’d written was long. He figured out that she was about ten years older than he was—he had just turned forty-five. From a photograph he could see that she was an attractive woman, but looked about ten feet tall. Clearly not a date, but possibly an interesting source, and he jotted down her name. But he wanted to interview Fiona, not her sister, and he had no idea how to convince her that she should agree to it. He decided to try again in a few weeks. Meanwhile he had to dig up whatever he could on Marshall Weston, and whoever was willing to comment on him. But he would have loved to have Fiona’s female point of view, and clearly that wasn’t going to happen. He just hoped he could talk her into an interview one day. He was sure that he’d enjoy it, and he’d been honest with her, and not pandering, when he told her he was a fan.

  After Fiona and Jillian played tennis, they went out for coffee and Jillian brought up Marshall Weston as an example of her theories. She had followed him in the news, and had seen his press conference, with Liz standing at his side.

  “He looked guilty as hell to me,” Jillian commented over cappuccino.

  “What makes you think that?” Fiona was intrigued. “He looked innocent to me. Shows what I know.”

  “He looked much too virtuous, and his apology to everyone and gratitude for the woman’s retraction made me retch. And the business of holding his wife’s hand spells guilty to me. He probably cheats on her all the time and she doesn’t know it. That’s usually how it works.”

  “What made you so cynical?” Fiona asked her, startled by her refusal to believe Marshall Weston innocent. She sounded almost bitter about it, but Fiona knew she wasn’t, and her experiences with men had almost always been pleasant.

  “I have a lot of male patients who are the CEOs of companies. They all cheat, and tell me about it. It really makes you realize how badly behaved most of those guys are, and emotionally dishonest. I’d never date one of them after what I hear every day. Marshall looks like one of the boys to me.”

  “He seemed like a nice guy when I met him. And Alyssa is crazy about his son. She says they’re a nice family.”

  “That’s what it looks like. Then women come out of the woodwork like this one, and the next thing you know, they’re at the center of a sex scandal, and their wives are in shock, and everybody’s crying. I have a couple of them who even have second families they keep hidden. Their wives help them in their careers, but they’re in love with the other woman who is usually younger and better looking, while the real wife is dedicated to them. And one day they all find out about each other, and the guy finds himself in a huge mess and is stunned that his original wife and kids are pissed off at him and think he’s a dishonest prick, which of course he is. They’re too chicken to get divorced, and too self-serving, so they want to have their cake and eat it too.”

  “That must get pretty dicey.” Fiona was impressed. It would never have occurred to her to do that, or cheat on David while they were married. She never had, although they’d been unhappy for years, and she didn’t think David had cheated on her either. But with what Jillian was saying, she wondered. Maybe he had seen women on the side who had been less threatening to him, and less busy than Fiona. But if he had fooled around on her, at least he’d been discreet.

  “It definitely gets dicey,” Jillian said with a grin. “I think they get off on it, having a secret, a double life, two women who serve different purposes for them, one for sex, and the other for business. It’s all about them and their needs.”

  “Why do you suppose the second woman puts up with it? I’m assuming she knows the guy is married, even if the real wife doesn’t know about the other woman.”

  “Most of the time the second woman loves him. And it’s all about the power thing again. The excitement of having a man in your life who runs the world. Most women find that exciting. I sure as hell don’t,” Jillian commented. “I’d rather have a guy who’s smaller scale and more human. But powerful men are exciting to a lot of women.”

  “How’s your book coming?” Fiona asked her then.

  “It’s coming. Slowly but surely. I use a lot of my patients for research to support my theories.”

  “By the way, I talked to a guy this week who thinks like you do on this subject. He called me to comment on Marshall Weston’s sexual harassment accusation, and I refused to. We got on the subject and I told him about you and your book. He’s an investigative reporter, specializing in business, and he’s come to a lot of the same conclusions you have about powerful men, and the difference between how men and women react to power, and how others view them. Smart guy, maybe you’d like him.”

  “What does he look like?” Jillian sounded intrigued.

  “I don’t know. I talked to him on the phone and I’ve read some of his pieces. He writes well, and his articles are good. His name is Logan Smith. He sounds young though.” That had never stopped Jillian before, but he had sounded even younger than he was when Fiona spoke to him.

  “I’ve read him before too,” Jillian said, and knew instantly who he was. “He won a Pulitzer for a series of interviews he did with Nelson Mandela. Fantastic stuff. I think he went to Harvard too.” He hadn’t said so to Fiona. He had told her very little about himself, in fact nothing, and was more interested in her, and writing an article about her.

  “He wanted to do an article about me. I turned it down. I hate th
at stuff.” Jillian knew she did, but thought she had missed an opportunity to meet an interesting person.

  “You should meet him anyway. And I don’t think he’s all that young, from what I remember. He’s somewhere around your age.”

  “He didn’t ask me out on a date.” Fiona laughed at her sister, who was always willing to meet new men. But Fiona wasn’t, and too busy to date. “He just wanted to interview me.”

  “Well, tell him to call me. I’ll check him out for you,” Jillian teased her.

  Then they finished their coffee and talked about their summer plans. Jillian was going to Europe with friends who had rented a house in Tuscany, and she knew Fiona rented the same house in Malibu every year. She and the children loved it, and it was so easy to get there.

  “You should do something different for a change,” Jillian suggested, but she also knew that her younger sister was a creature of habit, and too busy to plan a real vacation. And the house in Malibu was relaxing for her. It belonged to a Hollywood producer and was a beautiful place. She always wanted Jillian to come down and visit them, but they usually went away at the same time. And both of her kids had their own plans in August. Mark was going to Kenya with his girlfriend, and planning to do volunteer work in a village that needed help laying pipes to bring in water. And Alyssa was still undecided, but John Weston wanted to go somewhere with her.

  When she talked to Alyssa that night, she asked her how John was doing after the stressful week his father had had, and if John was very upset about it. The scandal had been quickly averted, but it nonetheless must have been unpleasant to have his father accused of having an affair and cheating on his mother.

  “It was rough on him when it first came out. But it was over pretty quickly. He believed his father was innocent right from the beginning. Apparently, his older brother didn’t think so, and thinks they just paid the woman off to shut her up.” Fiona didn’t say that her sister thought so too. She felt sorry for Marshall’s children. It must have been upsetting for all of them, and his wife too, even if it wasn’t true. And Jillian hadn’t convinced her. Marshall had seemed innocent to Fiona. She wasn’t as cynical as her sister. And she reminded Alyssa to bring John over soon, and Alyssa promised she would. Fiona was anxious to meet him and hadn’t yet. Alyssa said the romance was going well and they were spending a lot of time with each other. And John would be coming to Malibu for a long weekend. Fiona was happy for her.