Page 83 of Back in Black

Eyeing her too-tense posture, Drew pulled out his cell phone, glanced at the number, and shrugged at the inevitability of it.

Knowing Gillian stood there in awful suspense, he put the phone to his ear and said, “Hey, Fran. What’s shaking?”

Gillian’s eyes sank shut and a cloak of defeat masked her usual confidence.

Fran asked, “Is she there, Drew?”

He watched Gillian. “Who?”

“You know damn good and well who I mean. Gillian Noode. Is she there with you even now?”

“Now, Fran, you know that’s none of your damn business.” Gillian’s eyes flashed open and she stared at him aghast. Shaking her head hard, she tried to discourage him. But what the hell? The damage was done, so why should he go down with a smile?

“My God, she is. I knew when I called and she didn’t answer . . .”

“It is damn early still.”

“Yet you answered.”

Drew shrugged. “Yeah, well, I’ve never kept regular hours. That’s one reason you’ve been riding my ass, right? To make me conform?”

“Enough.”Fran sucked in air to moderate her temper, and then she gritted out, “Put. The phone. On loudspeaker.”

Drew rubbed his head. “Fine.” Covering the mouthpiece, he said to Gillian, “She knows you’re here and she wants to talk to both of us.” Before Gillian could assimilate that, he uncovered the phone, hit a button, and said, “Go ahead, Fran. Let the vitriol fly, old girl.”

Looking like a deer caught in the headlights, Gillian gasped, “Shutup, Drew.” Then, remembering that Fran could hear her, she looked ready to sink into the floor.

“Hello, Gillian.” Tone clipped and disapproving, Fran said, “I figured I’d find you there, all things considered.”

Gillian gave Drew a black scowl and cleared her throat. “Fran, good morning. I was going to call you to set up a meeting as soon as I got home.”

“Which would have been when?”

“At a more respectable hour, of course.”

Oh-ho! Score one for Gillian for that backhanded censure against Fran’s crack-of-dawn phone call. Grinning, Drew feigned a knockout punch as a sign of approval, and said, “Yeah, and speaking of respectable, why don’t we set up a meeting for later today, and we can all—”

“Obviously, Gillian,” Fran cut in, her voice raised, “this is not how I planned for you to transform Drew’s image.”

Gillian’s backbone came back in spades. “Thishas nothing to do with Drew’s image. It’s personal and I don’t care to discuss it.”

“Well, my dear, you should have told that to the reporters who’ve been calling me through the night, asking for a statement.”

Gillian stiffened. “In fact, I did tell them.” She struggled for composure. “And as to our business agreement, I have been following a detailed and intelligent plan that I think you’ll find is adequately building a more unbiased perception—”

“You’re fired.”

Gillian’s mouth snapped shut.

Drew blew a fuse. “She fucking well did what you wanted her to!”

With ringing sarcasm, Fran quipped, “Oh, certainly, Drew. The transformation is astounding. I hardly recognize you.”

Gillian rubbed her forehead. “Drew, enough already. It doesn’t matter.”

“Bullshit.”

Clearly mortified, Gillian straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. “I can see that there’s nothing more to discuss, then. Fran, I’ll be sending you a list of my arrangements for future speaking engagements I’d lined up for Drew. I believe if you follow through, you can still—”

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