second chances, no third strikes. You are not in kindergarten. If you make your bed, you lay in it, and your first
offense is a punishable one.”
“Punishable by what?” Morgan asked.
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Leonard stopped. Looked at Morgan. “Let’s hope I
never have to answer that question for you.” Morgan said
nothing. “If you agree to be a part of our company, you
will start this Monday. You each came here with a
sponsor, and that sponsor will call you Friday night with
the location where you refill and drop off your merchandise and money. Work that starts Saturday morning. Yes,
Saturday. Your sponsor put their reputation on the line
bringing you here. Don’t embarrass them. In a short time,
we will be starting an initiative that has the potential to
bring in even more revenue than I’ve already discussed.
But you only get to be a part of it if you start now. So if
you want to be a part of our organization,” Leonard said,
“stay seated. If you decide this is not right for you, I’m
sorry to have wasted your time.”
Nobody moved. Chubby had forgotten all about his
cuff links. Nikesh was absently rubbing his back pocket,
where his wallet was surely kept. Greg looked at the
table, briefly, considering the offer, then looked right
back up at Leonard. His eyes said that he was in.
Morgan did not move. The money seemed too good
to be true, but he knew Ken Tsang had fallen on hard
times and had gotten out of it. And if things didn’t work,
he could always quit. But the opportunity was too good
to pass up. This was Morgan’s way back in the game.
Suddenly a chair squeaked. Everyone turned to the
back of the room to see a short, balding man stand up.
He waved his hands, as though trying to explain a crime
he hadn’t committed.
“I…I’m sorry,” he said. “I can’t do this.”
Leonard tilted his head, a look on his face like a parent
who’s been disappointed by a child they’ve put so much
effort into. “Jeremy, are you sure?” Leonard said.
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“I—I’m sure. I can’t be a part of this.” He moved to
the back door, still wringing his hands.
“You’ve disappointed us,” Leonard said, motioning to
the rest of the room, still riveted to their seats. “One last
time, Jeremy. Stay. You heard what I said to everyone
about our rules.”
“I know, I…I heard you, but…I’m sorry, but I have
to go. Good luck, guys,” Jeremy said, and he reached
for the door.
“Good luck, and farewell, Jeremy,” Leonard said.
Then, lightning quick, Leonard reached into his waistband and pulled out a gun. And before Morgan even knew
what was happening, a crack echoed throughout the
room, and Jeremy’s head erupted in a spray of fine pink
mist.
The dead man’s body slid to the floor, leaving a grotesque red trail from the gaping wound in his skull.
Morgan recoiled, nearly tipping back in his seat, and
when he righted himself he shivered when he realized that
the conference room was dead quiet. The eyes that had
bugged out of their sockets were now growing accustomed to the violence that had just taken place. The heads
slowly began to swivel from the body back to Leonard.
He watched them do this, a look of apathy, a look of
simple that’s what happens on his face. Morgan recognized
that face. He knew the emotions. He couldn’t help but smile
when he realized who it reminded him of. His old boss.
“There will be no dissent,” Leonard said. “There will
be no second-guessing, and there will be no turning back.
Every one of you came here for one reason, and that’s to
regain some of the respect you had for yourselves. Jeremy
did not have this self-respect, and now he’s dead. But
before you start thinking to yourselves that I’m some
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kind of monster, let me tell you that if Jeremy had stayed,
like every one of you is going to stay, you will make every
penny you did at your old jobs. There will be no layoffs,
no cutbacks, no downsizing. If anything, your earnings
will grow at a faster rate than they ever could while you
sat in some wretched cubicle or soulless office. We will
be introducing a new product in the next few days that
promises to help you erase all those debts. Keep making
those mortgage payments. Keep driving that Lexus, keep
that sweet Russian girlfriend who wants to spend five
grand a month at Chanel. You’ll have all of that—and
enough just in case you want to throw a dime on the football games on Sunday. Now, you can either take Jeremy’s
way out, the coward’s way out, or you can get back to
work and stay the man you were supposed to be. So,
men, are you in, or are you worthless?”
Morgan stood up. He felt a surge of energy through his
veins, his skin felt like it was on fire. “I’m in,” he said.
Within seconds, every other man in the room stood up
and joined him. Leonard’s eyes met each recruit as they
pledged to be a part of this. Morgan looked at each one
of them, silently bet himself that he would outearn each
and every one of them. And he knew from the way their
eyes met his that they were thinking the exact same thing.
Morgan Isaacs smiled.
Let the games begin.
“No second chances,” Leonard said. “I’ll see the rest
of you on Monday.”
21
Amanda had just settled down on Henry’s couch with a
glass of Pinot Noir, and the first sip tasted better than
anything she’d eaten in weeks. She’d skipped dinner, but
hell, wine had nutrients, didn’t it?
It had been one of those days that never wanted to end.
Her feet felt like they’d been trapped inside thimbles and
she needed something to take the edge off. She’d been
with a client at the office until nearly eight o’clock, and
Amanda had come to the pretty secure conclusion that
humans were not meant to wear high heels for twelve
straight hours. So by the time she got to his place, weary,
weak, her dogs barking like nobody’s business, she
wrenched that cork from the bottle faster than Pamela
Anderson dropped her drawers around a rock star.
And while all those excuses were reason enough to
have a drink—whether or not she continued with the bottle
depended on several factors—another reason was Henry.
Things were going well. They’d endured more rocky
periods in their relationship than the next twenty couples
combined, and she fully believed they’d come out stronger than ever. She never doubted his love for her. Even
when that brain of his got in the way, which it often did,
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she knew it was only because he could be torn between
the right thing to do and the smart thing to do. It still surprised her how rarely those two choices were one and the
&nbs
p; same.
Still, she’d learned a long time ago that trying to
change him was not only impossible, but defeated the
purpose and would undermine their entire relationship.
Henry was relentless. That was the bottom line, and God
did she love him for it. As much as her heart pounded
during the times where he scared her half to death with
his latest bit of reckless behavior, it was that full throttle
stopatnothingishness that made him a great reporter and
a great partner. Sure he did stupid stuff. He was a guy;
that was embedded in the DNA.
For every time he brought home flowers, he would
leave his underwear hanging from the bedpost. For every
time he said “I love you,” he would chew with his mouth
open. But that’s what made them so great. He wasn’t
fake and didn’t pretend to be perfect. Amanda had met
plenty of guys who did everything right: held the door
open for her, pulled her chair out at dinner, chewed with
their mouth closed. But these men were nothing but
painters, carpenters, covering up holes in the frame with
pretty wallpaper or a fresh coat of paint. Eventually the
hole would reveal the truth, and the facade would crumble. With Henry there was none of that. He wore his holes
proudly.
Still, she wondered when they might take the next step.
Amanda was never one of those girls who dreamed about
her wedding when she was six. She didn’t name her unborn
children, or buy Modern Bride magazine. If love came, she
would deal with it then. For years, love to Amanda was like
taxes. You only thought about it when you had to.
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153
Yet Henry had changed that. Every so often she would
think about what he would look like in a tuxedo, and
thought about who would be her maid of honor. She caught
herself smiling at things she once found cheesy, and more
than once had felt that terror-and joy-filled moment of anticipation when she thought he might pop the question.
Yet she didn’t want to rush him. Or rush herself. She
wasn’t sure if she was ready to commit, and wanted to
make that decision when the time came.
Still, it felt nice to think about it. If only once in a while.
Amanda heard someone jiggling the doorknob. She
stood up, glass in hand, and watched as Henry entered the
apartment. His sport jacket was rumpled, slacks dirty
around the cuffs. There seemed to be some sort of dirt or
substance, something gray and ashy on his lapels. He saw
her and smiled, and that was enough to make her smile, too.
“Hey, hon,” he said, dropping his briefcase on the floor
and joining her. She felt his arms wrap around her, and
she hugged him back. “You smell like tannins.”
She held up the glass of Pinot. “Got started early. That
kind of day, you know?”
“Do I know.” He went into the kitchen and took out a
glass. Not a wine goblet, but a regular drinking glass.
Then he went over to the dining room table where she’d
put a stopper in the open bottle. He wrenched out the plug
and filled his glass up nearly three-quarters of the way.
Then Amanda watched in both horror and admiration as
he downed the entire thing in one gulp. But when he
went back for a refill, that’s when she stepped in and took
the bottle.
“Let’s talk first,” she said. “That first glass was enough
to knock you out.”
He looked at her, then back at the bottle, debating
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whether it was worth arguing over. Eventually he nodded
and went over to the couch, plopping down and emitting
a deep sigh as he plunged his head into the soft leather.
“So,” he said, his eyeballs straining to see her from his
position. “Tell me about your day.”
“The Morgansterns were in today. They’ve been trying
to keep custody of their adopted daughter for the past few
months. The birth mother was a crack addict, and her
daughter was taken away from her after she left her in an
alley wrapped in newspaper. Apparently the mother
managed to clean herself up, get a job, and most importantly marry a man with enough money to make a go at
challenging for custody. It’s going to be long and it’s
going to be ugly.”
“Do you think you can win?” Henry asked.
“I hope so. The adoptive parents deserve to keep the
girl. The mother…she might have cleaned up, but there
are certain people who you know aren’t good parents. I’ve
met her twice, and neither time did she look me in the eye.
Her husband does all the talking. She stands there, hands
folded across her lap, like she’s almost embarrassed.”
“You think he’s pressuring her to try and get the
daughter back.”
“That’s what I think.”
“Yeah,” Henry said. “You’re gonna win.”
Amanda smiled. Moved over to Henry, clasped his
hand, leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“You think so?”
“I know so.”
“Thanks, babe,” Amanda said, moving back to talking
distance. “So how was your day? Any good stories? Jack
keeping you on your toes?”
Henry looked at her, and immediately Amanda felt a
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sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her smile disappeared. She’d seen that look before.
“There was an explosion today, on Park Avenue. An
apartment…”
“That’s right. Brett Kaiser.”
“I saw that on the news. Terrible. The police are saying
they think somebody murdered him.”
Henry looked at her. “I was there.”
Amanda recoiled slightly. “Wait, what?” she said, incredulous. “What do you mean you were there? Like,
when the news crews came after the explosion?”
“I mean I was at the explosion. At Brett Kaiser’s apartment building. Kaiser was tied into the story Jack and I
have been chasing, and I was at his building trying to get
some comments from him. When he left me, he went
upstairs to his apartment, and a minute or two later everything just erupted.”
“Oh my God,” Amanda said. She held her hands to her
heart, her mouth hanging open, dry. “Oh my God, Henry,
are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “A little ringing in my ears, but it’s
going away.”
“You were…there?” she said. He didn’t say anything.
Then Amanda wiped at his lapel, her hand coming away
with gray dust. “Is this…”
“Christ,” Henry said, jerking up and going into the
bathroom. She heard the water running, and a few minutes later Henry came back out wearing shorts and a
T-shirt. Normally she’d make some sort of suggestive
comment about how he looked in shorts, but her mind
couldn’t even fathom levity right now. “Sorry about that.
I didn’t even realize it.”
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Then Henry actually l
aughed a little bit. Amanda
wanted to join him, but her mouth wouldn’t work. “Hey,
baby, you okay?”
Amanda shook her head. She felt her face grow hot,
her eyes beginning to water. No, she told herself. She
refused to cry. This was what their relationship was. This
was what Henry was.
She couldn’t protect him. Not right now. Maybe not
ever. If he’d been closer to the explosion…if Kaiser had
invited Henry upstairs for an interview…if a chunk of
brick or concrete had come down at the right angle…he
wouldn’t be here right now.
Amanda stood up. She went over to the table, picked
up the wine and took a swig right from the bottle.
When she put it back down and wiped her mouth, she
heard Henry whistle from the couch. “That must have
felt good.”
Amanda shook her head. “No. Not really.”
“I understand,” he said. “I didn’t mean to joke about
it. I know what you must be thinking. I’m fine. Not hurt
one bit. They weren’t trying to hurt me. Wrong place at
the wrong time.”
“Always seems to be that way,” Amanda said, feeling
the wine warming her body, her mind going fuzzy. It felt
good, and she didn’t try to stop it.
“You know I don’t mean for things like this to happen,”
Henry said. He walked up behind her, put his arms around
her waist, leaned in close. She felt her eyes close,
breathed him in, brought her arms around his and held
him tight. She felt his breath on her neck, taking her
away. “I love you, and I also want to be the best at my
job I can possibly be. I’m not scared of chasing stories
like this. Maybe I should be, but I’m not. I’ve been
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through enough the past few years, a lot of it with you,
to the point where I know this is what I’m meant to do.”
“I know it is,” Amanda said. “I’m not sure if I wish it
wasn’t, but I know that’s what you are and what you do.
And I’m proud of you. I just…you don’t know what it’s
like to hear the person you love say things like that.”
“No, I don’t,” he said. “And God willing, I’ll never
have to.”
“I hope not either.” She turned around. Kissed him long
and hard. “So, at least tell me this. Did you get anything?”
Henry unwrapped his arms from her and went back to
the couch. He sat down, and she joined him. Henry