"Take me to the office," I directed.
When we arrived, he came around to help me walk, but I cast off his arm.
"I'm fine," I said. I wanted to enter my offices under my own steam so no one would doubt I was strong enough to take control of my affairs.
Our secretaries and sales people were shocked when I walked through the door holding my stomach and hiding my short breath. I had put on enough makeup to avoid looking pale. They were all overly solicitous, each offering to do something, but I shooed them off, telling them to return to their duties as I headed for my office. One look at it told me Samuel had taken it over. My desk was a sloppy mess, papers and files everywhere, a cup of coffee and a glass, still with some brandy in it on the desk as well. The room itself reeked of cigar smoke.
Samuel wasn't there.
"Open a window in here, Dolores," I ordered. My secretary rushed in quickly and opened every window. "Hasn't anyone attempted to clean this place while I was away?"
"Mr. Logan didn't want anyone in here," she explained.
"I'm not surprised. Where is he?"
"He met Mr. Brofman and Mr. Conde at the Whaler's Club for lunch," she said.
"For lunch? It's nearly three-thirty!"
"Mr. Logan never returns from lunch before four," she said and then bit down on her lower lip as if she had already revealed more than she should have.
"Never mind, Dolores," I said wiping off the desk chair and then sitting. "Let me look at some of this."
I began to wade through the documents, shocked at how many Samuel had never mentioned. There were things that should have been processed days ago and telephone messages from important clients that had obviously never been returned. I began slowly, signing as much as I could and calling whomever I could. One firm informed me they had had to go to someone else. All I could do was apologize.
By the time Samuel returned, I had gone through more than half of the backlog. When he entered the offices, I could see from the flush in his face that he had had too much to drink at lunch. His eyes looked like they were floating in his head. So oblivious and dazed was he that he didn't realize I was there until he literally entered the office and approached the desk. He stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping.
"What . the .. . what are you doing here, Olivia?" he gasped.
"Working, Samuel, catching up on the mountain you let build on this desk, apologizing to client after client for your failure to return their calls, some of which were made in desperation. We already lost the Farmingdale account, and all I could do was apologize."
"I was getting to all that. There's been a lot more to do here than you know. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you worrying in your condition," he explained.
"You thought it would help my condition to let our business suffer?" I fired back.
"I wasn't letting it suffer. I've done a lot that you don't know about," he protested.
"That's what I'm afraid of," I said dryly.
"You shouldn't be here, Olivia. The doctor's going to be very angry with you and with me for letting you be here," he complained.
"You're not letting me do anything, Samuel. I'm doing what I want and have to do. Look at this mess. Look at how dirty this place is. What sort of an example are you setting for our employees? Didn't you think I would ever return to my office?"
"Sure. I was about to get this place straightened up. I had it down on my book to call in the cleaning service tomorrow or the next day," he said. "I'll show you."
He star
ted to sift through the documents, searching for his plan book.
"Are you looking for this?" I said holding it up. "It was on the floor under the chair."
"Well, it must have just fallen off. Now look here, Olivia. Your coming in like this and bawling me out is not going to help me keep the respect of our employees."
"What do you mean keep, Samuel? Who says you have it?" I remarked. "Just go back to your office and leave me alone to fix as much of this as I can," I said.
"I must insist you go right home," he replied. I could see that the booze he had drunk had fortified him, given him courage. He stood there with his hands on his hips, his shoulders back. "You call Raymond. Go on."
"I swear, Samuel," I said. "If you don't get out of here this minute and let me work, I'll call the police and have you removed from the office," I fired back at him, my eyes so fixed on his face, he had to blink and look away.