Chapter 3—Disappointment
For Frank and Trudy, the aftermath of sex always brought the best of sleep. Though their lovemaking took them deep into the night, the limited hours of slumber refreshed them enough for the next day. Trudy woke with the birds in the morning. She rose first to get a quick turn in the bathroom, then threw on her robe and went downstairs to prepare breakfast while Frank got ready for work. It was summer, so the girls had no school. Trudy would roust them out of bed a little later.
Frank walked into the kitchen as Trudy was serving his eggs. He had a small gift-wrapped package in hand, which he set on the counter. Trudy smiled when she saw it.
"You don't have to buy me a present every time you go out of town, Frank."
"I only do when I have time, and this time I did," he protested.
She unwrapped the box and lifted the lid. "Very nice, Frank," she said, and she gave him a kiss on his freshly-shaven cheek.
"I know I got you the same thing last time," Frank confessed. "I had a bottle of perfume picked out, but the clerk reminded me that they would probably confiscate it at airport security."
"I like them fine," Trudy replied. "Besides, I trust you to pick out earrings more than perfume." She laughed a little at the thought of Frank selecting a perfume, with little dabs of samples on his wrist. "Besides, it's the thought that counts and this was a nice thought." She bent down to where he was sitting at the kitchen table and kissed him again.
"You already said 'thanks' last night," Frank reminded her, "and did a fine job of saying it, too."
"Stop it," Trudy said. She covered her face to hide her embarrassment. "I was afraid that you'd be too tired."
"Trudy," Frank answered, "with you, I don't dare to be too tired."
Trudy rolled her eyes, still blushing. She wondered why she was embarrassed after all these years and all their private moments. She wasn't shy when it counted, though, and that was the important part.
"I had breakfast with Alvin yesterday morning before he left for Europe," Frank changed the subject. "He sends his compliments—said you looked nice at the company dinner the other night."
"Oh, I don't know, it was just a simple..."
"He also suggested that you spend more time with Gloria and her friends."
Trudy drew a breath and let it out slowly.
"Frank, I have nothing against Gloria, and the others. They're just not my type."
"Alvin said that he thought that Gloria might ask you to join in some of her charity projects."
"I dunno, Frank. It's not that I'm against it, it's only that..."
"No pressure," she heard him say. "Do whatever seems right for you. Heck, Gloria might not even call you. I told Alvin that it was okay with me, but it was really up to you."
Trudy paused, thinking about how to answer. Frank finished the food on his plate and took a last gulp of coffee.
"Got to run, Trudy. I've got a lot of ground to cover today."
**********
Frank strode into the Headquarters office suite at eight-fifteen. He was alone on the executive floor, save the security guard. The secretaries started at nine; the executives arrived according to what was on their calendars. Frank liked the solitude of the early morning. In a short while, it would be phones and intercoms and traffic in the halls.
"Good morning, Mr. Bennett," Floyd greeted him. He was the security guard assigned to the executive floor. He was an aging, black man, gaunt with black-rimmed glasses and graying hair. As part of the upstairs security force, his uniform was a navy blazer, gray slacks and striped tie. A Western Chemical logo emblazoned the breast pocket of his blazer. He had an unobtrusive desk in an alcove at reception where he logged every person in and out and there was a direct line to the main security office, if he ever needed it. "Good morning, yourself," Frank called back.
"You're in early," Floyd observed, following Frank through the corridor to unlock his door. It was a familiar litany, repeated each day Frank was in the office. "How was your trip?"
"Fine; busy as always," Frank answered. "You know, it was almost as hot in New York as it is here."
"Almost, but not quite," Floyd argued, continuing the drill. "Here's some coffee to get you started." He set a steaming styrofoam cup on Frank's desk, from his private supply, as was his custom.
"Thanks, Floyd," Frank said. "This will really hit the spot. Just don't tell Jeannette."
Floyd laughed at the warning repeated for the thousandth time. Jeannette was Frank's secretary, and assumed responsibility for all of Frank's office needs, including his morning coffee. Frank would have all traces of the bootlegged cup long gone before she arrived.
"Have a good day," Floyd said as he left to let Frank get to work.
Frank took a quick look through the two days' mail that Jeannette had set neatly on his desk. Nothing was urgent so he set it all aside. He turned his attention to the little slips of pink memos arranged neatly next to where the mail had been. He found the one he was looking for. It was from Jeannette.
"Finance Committee Members set for teleconference at ten-thirty." Frank nodded his approval. He took a yellow legal pad from his briefcase that had his notes from the previous day. He began editing them and adding new notes to it.
Jeannette had been Frank's secretary ever since he was in his earlier post of Corporate Controller and he occupied a smaller office at the other end of the executive hallway. Frank hadn't thought twice about bringing her up the ladder with him. She could still wield a mean word processor, but most of the time she delegated that to one of the younger secretarial staff. She still processed all his confidential material and there was a natural chemistry between them that made everything work just right.
"Coffee the usual way?" Frank looked up with a start. It was Jeannette arriving for the day. He hadn't realized how long he had been poring over his worksheet on the yellow pad. He quickly swept aside the empty Styrofoam cup. He didn't think she'd seen it.
"Why, um, yes-please, Jeannette," Frank stammered. "But before you do that, come in for a second and close the door."
Jeannette pulled the door shut behind her and took a seat in the chair in front of Frank's desk without speaking.
"First," Frank instructed, "would you let Tyler Smith know that I need him to sit in on this teleconference with the Finance Committee. Tell him it's very important, and I'll need ten minutes to brief him in advance." Jeannette nodded. "Next, I need to meet with all available Senior VP's as soon as possible after the teleconference is finished—fifteen or twenty minutes. Don't tell them the reason; I'll explain everything in the meeting. We'll have the meeting right here in the office. Let me know who can't make it, and I'll get to them by phone later in the day."
"Yes, Frank," Jeannette answered in her usual, soft, unhurried way. "I'll get on it right away." It had taken months before Frank had convinced her to call him by his first name. She still refused to do so when anyone else could hear her. Whichever name she used, her voice was always soothing.
