"A Neighborhood Party" - читать интересную книгу автора (Grayson Roger)

3

Bob finished tying his tie and poured himself another martini from the pitcher he had prepared earlier. He had measured it out carefully to make certain that there were only two, remembering faithfully old Jordan's words about two being the absolute limit for a banker before dinner.

"Dims the mind, son," he had warned, "and a banker needs his brain working all the time. Never know when a deal is going to come up at one of these parties and you've got to be prepared to assess it on a moment's notice. At least the basics of it. Clients don't keep their faith in bankers that can't give 'em a snap judgment on something they should know about. Remember that, Bob, and you'll be taking over for me one of these days."

He knew he would have to have a couple more with the Burns before they started eating but tonight was kind of a special occasion and it might calm his nerves a bit. It wasn't every day that an important man like Burns walked into the President's office and told him outright that he had been impressed with his new neighbor and wanted to shift all of his investment account to their bank to be handled personally by him. He had left a message with Mr. Jordan that he and his wife were invited to dinner tonight to have a preliminary discussion about the mechanics of the change and also to get to know the man who would be handling all his money a little better. It was going to be an important night for his future and Bob knew it. He also had to make up for that abrupt meeting with Burns yesterday. He had no idea that he had that much money and could be so important in the community. He seemed to be a crude loudmouth type that Bob could not stand.

Well, he had put up with all types and kept them happy for the last five years with the bank so this one should be no problem. He hadn't really given him a chance yesterday anyway so he might not be too bad. At any rate, he thought dryly, he had no choice. He would just have to put up with whatever came his way. That was part of being a success in business and he couldn't afford not to succeed now. Particularly with the debts they had run up in buying this place. He would be in hock to his own bank for the rest of his life. They had sounded as though they were giving it to them when Jordan had first spoken about it but he should have known that banks never give anything away.

He was sorry that Carol had made plans earlier to go to her mother's for several days. She would have been quite an asset in dealing with both of them. Now he would have to carry the conversation with two of them which put him at a definite disadvantage. He had tried to talk her out of going but she gave him one excuse or another each time he brought the subject up. This was not like her and she had even seemed upset when he had come home with the good news about the new account. In fact, he couldn't remember seeing her this concerned about anything in a long time. True, they had both agreed they wouldn't get involved with any of their neighbors socially until they had a chance to make a judgment on whether or not they would like them for long-term friends but this was different. He had tried to explain that it was just part of his job and that once the account was in his hands they wouldn't be obligated to the Burns but she had sensed that wasn't true. Burns could still change his account back to his old bank anytime he wanted to and if he did that old man Jordan might lose the faith he had built up in his young protйgй. He knew only too well that with this loss of faith would go all the things he had built up up during the last five years. He had explained it to her thoroughly on the way to the airport just a short while ago.

In fact, they had had quite an argument. He had said a few things that he was sorry about now such as his comment on her shorts again and about how she didn't seem at all interested in helping him succeed. First, wearing those things around the yard would make the neighbors think she was a low-class slut of some kind and now she wouldn't even delay her trip for one day so that he could impress the Burns. She bad for some unknown reason burst into tears when he had chastised her so much and he had been forced to change his tone a bit to soothe her before they reached the terminal building. She left a bit happier after he had done this but it still didn't justify anything in his own mind. She was letting him down and that was that. She may have had many reasons such as the strain of moving or whatever, but still, he was going through the same thing and he was willing to push himself beyond the way he felt.

Why wouldn't she? He just didn't understand. Well, when she got back they could talk about it and patch things up.

Bob took the last gulp from his almost empty martini glass and headed for the Burns'. In spite of his little spat with Carol this afternoon he still felt on top of the world. He was going to get that account and prove himself to Jordan if it was the last thing he did. That should show Carol he could do it even without her help. Damn women, anyway!

Carol laid her head back against the seat and listened to the swift rush of air outside against the smooth metallic skin of the jet that was sweeping her home toward Chicago. It had been almost two hours since they had left the airport in Los Angeles and she was just beginning to recover her composure from the fight she had had with Bob. She just hadn't believed it when he had come home shortly after Jean had left and told her with all his boyish enthusiasm about the visit Mr. Jordan had received from Harry Burns that morning.

God, the nerve of that man!

She had found herself almost blurting out, without thinking, all the things that her early morning visitor had told her about Burns but Bob had kept cutting her off with his speculations on what this would do for his career with the bank and how impressed his boss had been with the sudden results he was getting in his new position.

Finally, after much bickering, she had just given up and has said nothing more than she could not possibly cancel her trip at such a late date. She had lied that her mother had called that morning and told her about all the things she had arranged for her homecoming with friends and this sort of thing. As she had expected, he had not understood and had almost thrown a temper tantrum right in their bedroom.

Perhaps, she tried to rationalize, he had reason for it. It was important to both of them for their future and for the children they were planning on having next year as soon as Bob was settled and secure and they were certain they would have no more financial problems. And, he didn't know about the things Jean had told her and probably wouldn't have believed them anyway even if he had stopped for a moment to listen to her side of the argument. She had had a little more time now since the plane had been in the air, to think more dearly and recover from the shock of the sudden disclosure of Harry Burns' visit to Bob. And perhaps Jean had been wrong. Perhaps there was something psychologically wrong with her that made her fabricate these things about Harry Burns and possibly other people too. After all, Carol had no way of knowing just how reliable a person Jean really was. She had just met her that morning, and aside from the fact that she seemed so sincere and hurt in what she was saying, it just might not be true. Yet it wasn't possible that anyone would tell stories like that without some basis in fact unless they were mentally deranged.

That just didn't seem possible in this case!

Jean appeared so logical in all the other respects that it just could not be the answer. True, she had had quite a bit to drink but not enough to cause her to go off on a tantrum like that. No, there was something to it. There just must be and no amount of success Bob could have in the world could justify her having to defend herself from a man like that. It was just asking too much. She would just have to make Bob listen when she returned home in a few days and maybe he could explain it to Mr. Jordan. He seemed as though he would understand if Bob didn't call her childish again and refuse to hear her side of it.

Carol fluffed up her pillow on the back of the seat and closed her eyes to get some sleep. She would have more of a chance to think things over and perhaps make some sense out of this sudden change of circumstances that had, without warning, shadowed her happiness. A slight shiver of revulsion passed through her body as she thought of the ruddy-faced man next door and his hands reaching out unimpeded toward her body. Sleep came a few minutes later, driving the horrible lewd thoughts of Harry Burns, her neighbor, away.