report before I present any portion of it. It has been my experience that partial information is the most dangerous kind.”
“That’s fine,” I said. I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it anyway.
“It shouldn’t be much longer,” Cranston said. His fingers continued to fly across the keyboard; I’m not sure I’d ever seen anyone type so quickly. I smiled as I considered the difference between Cranston and Bruce. My CEO pounds a keyboard like it’s a basketball; you can hear him typing from outside his office door. Cranston hardly seemed to disturb the keys as his fingers danced among them.
There was a whirring sound across the desk. Green lights illuminated a printer directly before me, and as it began to spit out sheets of paper Cranston pointed toward it. “Hot off the presses,” he said.
I left the papers where they lay. It had taken Cranston all of ten minutes to find that from which I had spent my entire life hiding.
“Would you like me to put together a folder for you?” he asked. “You can go over these any time you want.”
“I just need a minute,” I said, my voice less sure than it had been.
He rose from his chair. “Take all the time you need,” he said, his shoes echoing on the hardwood floor. “I’ll be next door.”
Each piece of paper that streamed from Cranston’s printer had a name, a photo, and an address. He had asked if I needed more but I didn’t think I did. Whatever more I needed I would find out myself.
I arranged the pages in chronological order and laid them facedown. I could feel my fingers shaking on the desk. With a deep breath I turned over the first page. The face was one I vaguely recognized:the secretary who had once told me I was a handsome young man. I had seen her one other time as well, on the last day of my father’s marriage to my mother. She looked older in this picture, but there wasn’t any question it was the same woman.
IN THE CAR EN ROUTE to LaGuardia, as my driver cursed under his breath at a taxicab that nearly ran him off the Grand Central Parkway, I arranged a business dinner in Chicago. Then I texted Bruce. Dinner in Chi with Deutsch and Kramer. Something about this deal doesn’t pass the smell test. Will update asap .
Within a minute my phone rang. “You want to play ball in the morning?”
I was confused. “With you?”
“No, I’m on my way to see Helen’s family. But Friday mornings are special. I’m going to text you an address. Ask for Aaron when you get there. Michael usually arrives around nine.”
There was no need for a last name. “I’ll be there at quarter of,” I said.
“I’ll tell Aaron you’re coming. Have fun.”
I leaned back in my seat. With a tingle spreading slowly from my fingers, I texted Claire. Dinner in Chicago tonight. Could get messy. Tell kids I may play basketball with Michael Jordan in the morning .
Again, my phone rang within a minute. “Michael Jordan?”
I laughed. “Bruce knows a guy.”
“That’s very exciting,” Claire said, “but I’m worried about you. How are you feeling?”
“Much better,” I said. The lying made my pulse beat faster. “Good as new after a night’s sleep. You were right about the hotel.”
“Will you be home tomorrow?”
“Should be. By the way, I never got those pictures.”
There was a little pause. It sounded as though Claire was momentarily distracted. “Honey,” I said, “is everything all right?”
“Fine, just a little hectic, as usual.”
“Okay,” I said. “So, I didn’t get the pictures.”
“Well, I sent them,” she said, faintly, as though she had turned her face away from the phone. “There’s just a lot going on today. Call me later, miss and love.”
“Miss and love,” I said, as I heard her end of the phone go dead.
I TOUCHED DOWN IN Chicago in time to check into a hotel and shower before dinner at Gibsons. The clients and I drank martinis and ate steaks, and we talked about basketball and money, not in that order.
“That’s fine,” I said. I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear it anyway.
“It shouldn’t be much longer,” Cranston said. His fingers continued to fly across the keyboard; I’m not sure I’d ever seen anyone type so quickly. I smiled as I considered the difference between Cranston and Bruce. My CEO pounds a keyboard like it’s a basketball; you can hear him typing from outside his office door. Cranston hardly seemed to disturb the keys as his fingers danced among them.
There was a whirring sound across the desk. Green lights illuminated a printer directly before me, and as it began to spit out sheets of paper Cranston pointed toward it. “Hot off the presses,” he said.
I left the papers where they lay. It had taken Cranston all of ten minutes to find that from which I had spent my entire life hiding.
“Would you like me to put together a folder for you?” he asked. “You can go over these any time you want.”
“I just need a minute,” I said, my voice less sure than it had been.
He rose from his chair. “Take all the time you need,” he said, his shoes echoing on the hardwood floor. “I’ll be next door.”
Each piece of paper that streamed from Cranston’s printer had a name, a photo, and an address. He had asked if I needed more but I didn’t think I did. Whatever more I needed I would find out myself.
I arranged the pages in chronological order and laid them facedown. I could feel my fingers shaking on the desk. With a deep breath I turned over the first page. The face was one I vaguely recognized:the secretary who had once told me I was a handsome young man. I had seen her one other time as well, on the last day of my father’s marriage to my mother. She looked older in this picture, but there wasn’t any question it was the same woman.
IN THE CAR EN ROUTE to LaGuardia, as my driver cursed under his breath at a taxicab that nearly ran him off the Grand Central Parkway, I arranged a business dinner in Chicago. Then I texted Bruce. Dinner in Chi with Deutsch and Kramer. Something about this deal doesn’t pass the smell test. Will update asap .
Within a minute my phone rang. “You want to play ball in the morning?”
I was confused. “With you?”
“No, I’m on my way to see Helen’s family. But Friday mornings are special. I’m going to text you an address. Ask for Aaron when you get there. Michael usually arrives around nine.”
There was no need for a last name. “I’ll be there at quarter of,” I said.
“I’ll tell Aaron you’re coming. Have fun.”
I leaned back in my seat. With a tingle spreading slowly from my fingers, I texted Claire. Dinner in Chicago tonight. Could get messy. Tell kids I may play basketball with Michael Jordan in the morning .
Again, my phone rang within a minute. “Michael Jordan?”
I laughed. “Bruce knows a guy.”
“That’s very exciting,” Claire said, “but I’m worried about you. How are you feeling?”
“Much better,” I said. The lying made my pulse beat faster. “Good as new after a night’s sleep. You were right about the hotel.”
“Will you be home tomorrow?”
“Should be. By the way, I never got those pictures.”
There was a little pause. It sounded as though Claire was momentarily distracted. “Honey,” I said, “is everything all right?”
“Fine, just a little hectic, as usual.”
“Okay,” I said. “So, I didn’t get the pictures.”
“Well, I sent them,” she said, faintly, as though she had turned her face away from the phone. “There’s just a lot going on today. Call me later, miss and love.”
“Miss and love,” I said, as I heard her end of the phone go dead.
I TOUCHED DOWN IN Chicago in time to check into a hotel and shower before dinner at Gibsons. The clients and I drank martinis and ate steaks, and we talked about basketball and money, not in that order.
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