Usually Joey took Frank's absences in stride, but so far she hadn’t been able to shake the tension. Full of nervous energy she finished her daily five-mile run in near record time.
The heat and humidity were at an unseasonable level even for Florida and her running clothes were drenched in sweat when she got home. Entering the side yard through a crisply painted white wood gate she began stripping off her shorts and tee shirt while trotting toward the swimming pool. Rounding the back corner of the house she kicked off her shoes and jumped feet first into the blue water, allowing herself to sink to the bottom and enjoying the instant relief she'd been thinking about every step of the last two miles of her run.
Joey spent ten minutes in the pool and not more than twenty in her getting ready. She headed out the door looking elegant in a short black and white dress and black Gucci flats.
“Did you forget your briefcase?” Billy tossed her soft leather satchel and Joey, agile as a cat, turned to snatch it out of the air.
"Sweet move, Joey."
“Billy, thanks. You saved me a trip back from the office.”
“You’re welcome. Oh, did I tell you I won’t be here until late tomorrow night? Frank asked me to take the boat to Ft. Lauderdale to have some mechanical work done.”
“OK.” Her voice sounded less than convincing, but she gave Billy a bright smile anyway.
“I can reschedule. The work isn’t critical.”
“No, Billy. Frank wants it done and I don't want you to change your schedule.” With a stern look she said, “I’m serious.”
“You’re a hard lady to argue with. OK, then.”
Joey blew Billy a kiss and tossed her bag into the Cobra still parked in the port cochere. Adjusting the seat a little she fired the car up and said to no one in particular, “Let’s find out what his old Ford can do.”
Billy laughed as she peeled out of the driveway and ran the powerful V8 up to a high note before shifting gears. Joey, too busy showing off, missed the older Jaguar pulling away from the curb in front of a neighbor’s house.
The old Cobra hummed as smoothly as a Swiss watch and a short time later she arrived at the office without as much as a wave from a police officer. She had to admit, the faded blue XKS with two blond “country club” types aboard made a slow pass by her parking. The men in the Jag watched Joey walk into the building before heading south toward the Breakers golf course.
She fought off the impulse to visit Frank’s empty suite and went straight to her own office.
“Good morning, Jill.” She said with a bright smile.
“Good morning, Joey. Looks like your day is off to a good start.”
“Yes, thank you. I had an excellent run and I just drove the doors off Frank's old Ford. That car's no match for the Porsche.” She grinned.
“That’s encouraging.”
None of Joey’s staff comprehended her obsession with fast cars, her Porsche in particular, but as a boss her virtues far outweighed her few vices so they all just chuckled and got on with their business.
Joey went to her desk and started the day by responding to emails. Half an hour later she was on the phone catching up with voice mails when Jill appeared in the doorway giving a hand signal indicating an important call on hold. Joey disengaged from her conversation in progress with the polite promise of a call back later.
“Joey, I’m sorry to interrupt you.”
“No problem. I was talking to Marlie Stevens. Personal chatter, not business.”
Jill still looked apologetic as she said, “Gabe Bowman is on the line. He asked to speak with you in Frank’s absence.”
“Of course. Please put him through.”
She didn’t know Gabe well, but his company, Dynamic Integrity had been a client of Frank’s for as long as she could remember and S3 billed them a lot of consulting hours during the year.
“Good morning, Gabe, this is Joey Beretta.”
“Mrs. Beretta, good morning. Thanks for taking my call.” Joey remembered Gabe to be a slight, balding man with a pleasant face. On the phone he had a rich baritone voice like the guy who did the narration on movie trailers.
“Please, call me Joey.”
“I shall. Joey, I'm sorry for the short notice, but I’m flying into Palm Beach later this morning. Would you be available for lunch? I have am urgent business matter I need to discuss with you.”
“Of course. What time does your plane arrive?”
Some muffled conversation went on before Bowman came back on the line.
“The pilot says we should be on the ground by eleven.”
“Fine. I’ll be happy to pick you up at the airport if you like.”
“Frank’s team already arranged transportation. Why don’t I come straight to your office?”
“Perfect.”
“Thanks. See you in a couple of hours. I'm sorry for being evasive, but I’ll fill you in as soon as I see you.”
“I'm looking forward to seeing you, Gabe.” Joey switched to another line and dialed Mac Larsen, Frank’s head of operations.
“Good morning,” the former Secret Service agent answered in a cheerful voice.
“Mac, good morning. Are you able to come down to my office for a moment?”
“Of course, Mrs. B. Two minutes.”
In precisely two minutes Mac’s six foot four inch frame filled a substantial portion of her doorway. At forty he remained as fit as he had been during his years as a Gator football star. He paused at the door waiting for an invitation to enter. A naturally polite man, his courtliness had been honed by a long stretch in the Secret Service and on POTUS’s security detail. He still adhered to a dress code that had him looking like an investment banker even in the heat of Palm Beach.
“Mac, please come in.” Joey smiled. She never stood on formality, especially in her own office, but she motioned for him to take a seat knowing he’d automatically pause by the chair.
“Thank you.”
She cut right to the chase. “What can you tell me about Gabe Bowman?”
“In what regard?”
“He just called from his plane and asked for a lunch meeting. He told me you already arranged transportation for him so I thought you might fill me in on what’s going on.”
“I got the transport request a few minutes before you took his call. He has reservations at the Brazilian Court tonight but is unsure if he'll stay. I have security on standby in case he does. He asked me to arrange secure transportation for a new DI staffer. A high profile target. Beyond that the client will have to brief you." His smile was polite an unapologetic.
Joey recognized he wasn’t going to part with any additional information. Frank hired Mac for his sphinx-like discretion and secrecy was key to the corporate division's success so she backed away from the subject.
“Alright. Thanks, Mac. I’ll be anxious to learn more from Gabe."
The meeting ended and Mac began to leave the office, but not before adding, with a twinkle in his eye, “The Boss says, ‘don’t scratch the old Ford.”
“Thanks, Mac.”
A message from Frank. Somehow he must have sensed her apprehension and wanted to let her know he was alright. Damn I'm a lucky girl. Joey smiled, now able to relax a little and better contemplate her meeting with Gabe.
47.
Menlo Park, California