Dirt (Stone Barrington 2)
“Amanda,” Hickock said, shaking his head in disbelief, “there’s a thirty-eight in my desk drawer, and I would have used it on anybody who walked in here like that.” He smiled benevolently. “Anybody but you. Now what can I do for you?” He nodded at the sandwich. “My Milton Berle is waiting.”
“What’s in a Milton Berle, Dick?” Amanda
asked, apparently fascinated.
“Corned beef and chopped liver with Russian dressing on pumpernickel, and this.” He held up a huge pickle. “The reference to Berle,” he said, grinning.
Amanda blushed. “Oh, Dick! You are awful!”
“It’s true,” Hickock said to Eggers. “I am awful.”
“It’s about our contract proposal,” Amanda said without further ado.
“Amanda, your contract has another three months to run,” Hickock replied. “What’s your rush?”
“Oh, it’s not me, darling, it’s SI Newhouse.”
Hickock’s face instantly became expressionless. “SI who?” he asked disingenuously, his eyes narrowing.
“Dick, it’s been awful; I’ve spent the whole weekend fending him off. Somehow, he got my phone number, and he would not be put off.”
“Don’t listen to a word he says,” Hickock said.
“Oh, I’ve tried not to – he’s such an awful flatterer – but I must admit, when he started throwing numbers around…”
“That absolute shit,” Hickock said, almost to himself.
“Oh, I don’t want to go with SI, Dick; that’s why I came to see you. He’s practically forced me to have a drink with him later today – God knows, I don’t want to alienate him – and I’m planning to tell him, as sweetly as I possibly can, to go away.”
“Right, my dear,” Hickock said, smiling. “That’s exactly what you should do.”
“But I can’t, Dick darling, not with things just… hanging the way they are with my contract.”
“Just say no, Amanda.”
“Well, I can’t very well do that, if I don’t know for sure that I have a deal with you, can I? I mean, my God, I don’t want to leave Galaxy, but when he’s dangling all that money in front of me and all those perks…”
“Perks?” Hickock asked, looking alarmed.
“Oh, you know how lavish SI can be when he really wants somebody.”
“Amanda, it’s wrong of you to press me like this.”
“Dick, my darling, I’m not pressing; I’m the soul of patience. SI, unfortunately, is not.”
Hickock rummaged in his desk and came out with the contract proposal that Eggers had sent him. He put on his reading glasses and began leafing through it. “You really think you’re worth this sort of money, Amanda?”
Eggers jumped in. “Her numbers support everything in that proposal,” the lawyer said.
“You want five percent more of the syndication?”
“Syndication income is way up,” Eggers said.
Hickock seemed to be collecting himself, Amanda thought.
“Tell you what, Amanda, my legal guy is back from vacation next Monday; we’ll get back to you the end of next week, all right?”
Amanda stood up and smoothed her skirt. “Dick, my darling, I can’t tell you how sad this makes me,” she said, dabbing at the corner of an eye, where an actual tear had appeared. “I had so wanted it to work out. I want you to know that I have no hard feelings whatsoever.” She turned and started toward the door, with Eggers at her heels, then stopped. “Oh, can you and Glynnis come to dinner on Friday? Just a small dinner, we’ll only be eight, but it’s a good crowd.”