father,” Ian answered truthfully. His gaze met Kip’s head on and he revised that thought. He was, after all, talking about Fritz. “But, that’s something you’ll have to deal with personally. Next thing I’d do is act judicial.”
“Meaning?”
“Think about it. How does a judge comport himself?”
“I don’t know, Ian. Why don’t you tell me?” Kip snapped.
“Well he doesn’t act like a spoiled kid, for one thing. And don’t start with me for another,” Ian answered coolly. “I’m not your father and all I care about is the health of this firm. If you want my help and support during your confirmation, I would suggest you listen. Be proactive, or Hannah’s troubles will overshadow your opportunities.”
Kip swung out of the chair and paced. “I don’t want anyone looking into my private life, or Fritz’s. I don’t want them looking into my business.”
“Don’t worry about it. Business is totally irrelevant to what’s going on,” Ian insisted. “If you hide away, though, people will ask questions.”
“And if I show my face people will ask questions.”
Ian threw up his hands, “Kip, come on. Don’t think what could happen; decide what you want to happen. If you answer questions then you control the spin. You’ve got to make a pre-emptive strike because the sooner Hannah is out of the public eye, the sooner she’ll be forgotten, your father will be forgotten, and you can get on with your life. Only you can make that happen.”
Ian Frank smiled as Kip Rayburn’s eyes lit up - finally.
“So you’re saying. . .”
“Have a game plan. Ask yourself what you can do to make this disappear faster. There’s no upside to dragging this out like a civil matter.”
Kip’s fingers drummed on the arms of the chair as he thought.
“If there’s a trial?”
“Assist Hannah’s attorney. Give her what she needs to wrap it up fast.”
“If there’s no trial?”
“Send the kid to boarding school. Once she’s eighteen she’s on her own,” Ian said, opening his hands as if he had the world between them. “Unless Linda would object.”
“Linda?” Kip cocked his head as if he had just heard something disturbing. “Linda has been very protective.”
“Okay, work that out later. For now be supportive, talk about your faith in the law and do what you can to expedite this. The key word is expedite. Do that, and Hannah Sheraton is nothing but a memory.” Ian rested his cheek on an upturned hand and smiled. “Expedite, expedite. Expedite the matter of Hannah Sheraton.”
“Hi. Good morning, Ms. Bates.”
The new receptionist grinned as Josie came through the door. She was a coat tree of a girl: all skin and bones, hard angles and points. Anorexia would have been the logical assumption if Tiffany wasn’t constantly munching, eating, tasting and sipping. Today it was a tall Frappacino and pizza bagel.
“Tiffany, I want you to call me Josie. Got it? Josie.” Tiffany grinned and nodded while Josie collected her message slips. There was only one, and Tiffany gave the audio version while Josie read.
“Mr. Fistonich called and said he’d be in the neighborhood and could sign his living will any time. No problem.” She stopped for a breath and a bite. “I think he likes you.”
“I like him, too,” Josie muttered. “Call him back and tell him it’s ready. Check with Angie so she can be available as a witness. Whatever time this afternoon is good with me.”
“Okay.”
Tiffany made a note and took another huge bite of her bagel. Josie crinkled her nose.
“You don’t do that when anyone is waiting, do you?” She raised her chin indicating the bagel that had just disappeared into the receptionist’s mouth. Tiffany shook her head and put her fingertips over her lips; too polite to speak when it was full.
“Is Faye here?” Tiffany nodded, swallowed hard and said:
“Yes. She wants to see you the min. . .”
Josie was already gone, stopping in
“Meaning?”
“Think about it. How does a judge comport himself?”
“I don’t know, Ian. Why don’t you tell me?” Kip snapped.
“Well he doesn’t act like a spoiled kid, for one thing. And don’t start with me for another,” Ian answered coolly. “I’m not your father and all I care about is the health of this firm. If you want my help and support during your confirmation, I would suggest you listen. Be proactive, or Hannah’s troubles will overshadow your opportunities.”
Kip swung out of the chair and paced. “I don’t want anyone looking into my private life, or Fritz’s. I don’t want them looking into my business.”
“Don’t worry about it. Business is totally irrelevant to what’s going on,” Ian insisted. “If you hide away, though, people will ask questions.”
“And if I show my face people will ask questions.”
Ian threw up his hands, “Kip, come on. Don’t think what could happen; decide what you want to happen. If you answer questions then you control the spin. You’ve got to make a pre-emptive strike because the sooner Hannah is out of the public eye, the sooner she’ll be forgotten, your father will be forgotten, and you can get on with your life. Only you can make that happen.”
Ian Frank smiled as Kip Rayburn’s eyes lit up - finally.
“So you’re saying. . .”
“Have a game plan. Ask yourself what you can do to make this disappear faster. There’s no upside to dragging this out like a civil matter.”
Kip’s fingers drummed on the arms of the chair as he thought.
“If there’s a trial?”
“Assist Hannah’s attorney. Give her what she needs to wrap it up fast.”
“If there’s no trial?”
“Send the kid to boarding school. Once she’s eighteen she’s on her own,” Ian said, opening his hands as if he had the world between them. “Unless Linda would object.”
“Linda?” Kip cocked his head as if he had just heard something disturbing. “Linda has been very protective.”
“Okay, work that out later. For now be supportive, talk about your faith in the law and do what you can to expedite this. The key word is expedite. Do that, and Hannah Sheraton is nothing but a memory.” Ian rested his cheek on an upturned hand and smiled. “Expedite, expedite. Expedite the matter of Hannah Sheraton.”
“Hi. Good morning, Ms. Bates.”
The new receptionist grinned as Josie came through the door. She was a coat tree of a girl: all skin and bones, hard angles and points. Anorexia would have been the logical assumption if Tiffany wasn’t constantly munching, eating, tasting and sipping. Today it was a tall Frappacino and pizza bagel.
“Tiffany, I want you to call me Josie. Got it? Josie.” Tiffany grinned and nodded while Josie collected her message slips. There was only one, and Tiffany gave the audio version while Josie read.
“Mr. Fistonich called and said he’d be in the neighborhood and could sign his living will any time. No problem.” She stopped for a breath and a bite. “I think he likes you.”
“I like him, too,” Josie muttered. “Call him back and tell him it’s ready. Check with Angie so she can be available as a witness. Whatever time this afternoon is good with me.”
“Okay.”
Tiffany made a note and took another huge bite of her bagel. Josie crinkled her nose.
“You don’t do that when anyone is waiting, do you?” She raised her chin indicating the bagel that had just disappeared into the receptionist’s mouth. Tiffany shook her head and put her fingertips over her lips; too polite to speak when it was full.
“Is Faye here?” Tiffany nodded, swallowed hard and said:
“Yes. She wants to see you the min. . .”
Josie was already gone, stopping in
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