Adam's Daughter Part 22

Ian laughed. "G.o.d, don't let Father hear you say that. To him, this is one big happy family. He thinks that his son, his little princess, and his little b.a.s.t.a.r.d should love each other. A regular Pacific Heights 'Adventures of Ozzie and Harriet.' And here we are. We can't stand each other. And you're f.u.c.king the hired help, a Jew, no less. We'd better not let Father know the truth. Poor, deluded schmuck."

"Stop it," Kellen said sharply. "Don't talk about Daddy like that."

"Why not?" Ian grinned. "Haven't you figured out yet, princess? Daddy isn't perfect, either. That great perfect hero who buys you a sports car and sends you to Paris on vacation is a very ordinary man. A very selfish man."

"Shut up, Ian!"

"He doesn't give a f.u.c.k about anybody." Ian's voice rose. "Why do you think he stole my mother's newspaper then divorced her? Why do you think he let your mother die, grabbed her money, and took up with that wh.o.r.e? He doesn't love me, or Tyler, or you for that matter. He just loves himself."

Kellen grabbed a book and threw it at Ian. It caught him just below his eye. He raised his hand to cover the gash on his cheekbone.

"You're crazy," he hissed, backing away toward the door. "You're crazy, just like your mother was."

"Get out!" Kellen screamed. She lunged to the door and slammed it just as Ian got out.

She leaned against the door, trying to get her anger under control. Her eyes traveled to her bureau. She went to it and opened the top drawer. Her things, which she usually kept in such perfect order, had been rearranged.

He touched them, she thought. She felt nauseated, as if his fingers were touching her skin. Then, she remembered the diaphragm and searched through the lingerie. It was still there. But it, too, had been touched.

She yanked the drawer out of the bureau and overturned its contents on the bed. Enraged, she scooped up the lingerie, carried it to the bathroom, and flung it into a trash can. She went back to get the diaphragm case. She picked it up and sank down on the bed, staring at it in her hands.

She lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about what Ian had said about her father letting her mother die, and about Stephen. She glanced toward the window where the sunset was coming to a murky close.

What she and Stephen did was not dirty or bad. It was good and tender. She touched her fingers to her lips, trying to recapture the feeling of Stephen's kiss earlier that afternoon when they had lay naked in each other's arms in her bed.

She stayed in her room for a long time. Finally, she got up and went downstairs.

A light was on in the study and she went to the door. Her father was sitting at his desk, surrounded by newspapers. A tray of uneaten food sat at his elbow and a half-smoked cigar was perched in an ashtray.

"You're home early," she said, coming into the room.

He looked up and took a moment to focus on her face. "I thought you had gone out," he said. "What's the matter, no big date tonight?"

She shook her head and sat down on the sofa. She thought he looked tired. "What are you doing in here all alone?" she asked.

"Thinking. Just thinking."

"About what?"

"The past."

"About mother?"

"Yes."

Kellen watched her father's face, thinking again about what Ian had said. A question, buried deep in her psyche, suddenly pushed its way forward.

"Did you love her?" Kellen asked.

Adam stared at her. "Kellen, what a thing to ask," he said. "Of course I loved her. What makes you ask that?"

She looked away. He came over to the sofa and sat down beside her. "I loved your mother with all my heart," Adam said. "We had something very special together. Very special."

Kellen looked up at him. "Did you have pa.s.sion?"

Adam started to smile but then he stopped. She realized suddenly he seemed a little embarra.s.sed. They had never spoken of anything remotely intimate before.

"Yes, we did," he said.

"How did you know?"

"You don't know it. You feel it."

"It's important, isn't it," she said, "to feel it."

He paused. "People need pa.s.sion in their lives. It can be someone...or something, like work, something you can give yourself over to completely. Now I have my work. But for a short time, I had your mother."

Kellen looked down at her hands. She was thinking about what Ian had said, thinking about all the gossip she had heard about her mother's death when she was growing up. She wanted to believe what her father said. She felt the small familiar ache that always came back to her when she thought of how much she missed her mother. Then she thought of Stephen and how it felt to lie in his arms, warm and safe. Was that pa.s.sion? Was he someone she could give herself to completely?

"Maybe," Adam said, "it's just something you'll have to find out on your own."

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX.

Lilith sat down, gracefully unwrapping the fur collar of her suit coat.

"You're looking well," Adam said. "Italy must agree with you."

"I haven't been back to Italy in a year," Lilith said. "I would have thought you'd know that, Adam. Doesn't that gossip columnist of yours keep you up on such things?"

"When merited."

Lilith looked around the restaurant. "Well, I decided I missed this dreary little town after all. I'm back for good."

"Is that why you asked me to lunch? Just to get a mention in Able's column?"

Lilith frowned. "Can we please be civil? I asked you here to talk business." She waited until the waiter had served her gra.s.shopper and left. She took a big drink. "I want to sell my interest in the Times. I presume you are still interested in buying it."

Adam took a sip of his scotch, careful to let a few moments pa.s.s before he answered. "If the price is right," he said finally.

"The price is not negotiable. I'll sell it to you for twenty-five million."

"That's ridiculous."

"On the contrary. You'd be getting off cheap." Lilith smiled. "I did some homework on this, Adam. I know that if you put the Times on the market right now, you'd get about fifty-five million." Her smile widened. "So I'm willing to let the five million go by. We were married once, after all."

Adam stared at Lilith. For years, he had been trying to get her to sell her interest. But he had never expected her to demand the full market price, and he certainly didn't have that kind of cash available. But she wanted to sell now, and knowing Lilith, she could change her mind tomorrow.

"I can't put my hands on that much cash right now, Lilith," he said.

"Let's drop the bulls.h.i.+t, Adam," Lilith said. "I want the money, and I know how much you want full owners.h.i.+p. This is my first and final price. If you want the Times all to yourself, you'll find the money." She smiled and opened the menu. "Shall we order?"

While they ate, Adam barely heard Lilith's small talk. His mind was working, trying to figure out how to meet Lilith's price. He thought briefly of the hundred acres he still owned in Napa, but he knew he couldn't get enough for it. The only alternative was to sell a newspaper. But he knew he couldn't do it. He had worked long and hard to create his empire, and the newspapers and news wire service were now stable, growing businesses. Besides, he thought of them also as Elizabeth's, her legacy as much as his own. The Times Corporation was one of the largest and most powerful in the country, with fourteen newspapers spread throughout the West. And he was involved in sensitive negotiations right now to purchase another newspaper in Phoenix. The thought of having to pull back on the reins now was like admitting defeat.

Adam set down his fork. He didn't feel like eating. Lilith's voice droned on in the background. Her timing could not have been worse. He thought about the report lying on his desk back at the office. It was an ambitious plan, prepared by the city editor with input from Stephen Hillman, to attack the suburban circulation problem. It called for setting up small bureaus in several communities and customizing a local news section each day so only stories affecting each community were featured. It would be as if each little suburb had its own newspaper within the Times.

Adam had already given his tentative approval. But it couldn't be done if he had to meet Lilith's demand. Adam finished his drink. Somehow, he had to get full owners.h.i.+p of the Times. It was one of the things he had to get in order.

"Lilith," he said, interrupting her chatter, "I want to make you an offer."

"Not a penny less, Adam," she said.

"I'll give you thirty million." Lilith's eyes widened. "If you'll agree," he went on, "to take five million now in cash and the rest in yearly payments of two point five million."

"No," Lilith said. "I want it all, now."

Adam motioned for the check. "Then we have nothing more to talk about," he said, rising. "Shall we go?"

Lilith didn't move. "Sit down," she said. When Adam did, she stared at him venomously. "You're a ruthless b.a.s.t.a.r.d," she said. "You stole that paper from my father, and now you're trying to cheat me out of what's rightfully mine."

"It's a fair offer, Lilith. Do you want it or not?"

She tossed her fur collar around her neck. "All right," she said brusquely. She left without another word.

Adam remained at the table alone. It was done. It wasn't the best solution. He would have preferred to have Lilith out of the way now. He hated the idea of mortgaging the Times' future, but at least now it truly would be his. Now, finally, he could have peace of mind that the newspaper's future was secure, that he could pa.s.s on what he had built to his family. The final pieces were falling into place.

He closed his eyes. He was tired. He remembered suddenly that he had a doctor's appointment that afternoon for a physical. He thought briefly about canceling it, but he had already done so four times. After a moment, he rose to go back to work.

Back at the office, he rang Ian's office and told the secretary that he wanted to see him. It was time to tell Ian about the suburban plan. Adam had kept the plan secret until now because he knew Ian's reaction would be negative. The city editor had also recommended that Stephen be named suburban news editor, and Adam knew Ian was jealous of Stephen's ability.

But it was more than that. Yesterday, Ian had told Adam that Stephen and Kellen were serious. Adam had been caught off guard. He had no idea that Kellen thought of Stephen as anything but a friend.

"You'd better break it up," Ian told him, "unless you're ready to have a Jewish son-in-law."

Adam had been disgusted with Ian's bigotry. But it made him stop and think. He liked Stephen, but he was uncomfortable with the thought of Kellen marrying him. He had known Josh and his family for more than twenty years, and the fact that Josh was Jewish had never been an issue. But now, suddenly, it was. I'm not anti-Semitic, Adam told himself. I just want Kellen to have an untroubled life. She's been raised a Catholic, just like Elizabeth wanted. I've worked hard to cleanse my reputation, buying into the social game so her path can be smooth, so she can be the lady Elizabeth raised her to be. Intermarriage will only pull her down and bring her heartache.

Ian came in. "You wanted to see me?"

Adam told him about the suburban plan, which Ian discounted as preposterous.

"Well, I'm going through with it," Adam said. "There's something else you should know. I'm buying out your mother's interest in the Times. It will be very expensive, and to do it and the suburban plan will mean some serious belt tightening on other properties."

"There's always some fat that can be trimmed," Ian said. "We could start with some newsroom layoffs in San Diego."

"No," Adam said quickly. "No cuts in news operations."

"But the payroll is so d.a.m.n high, Father."

"Ian, I've told you before. You cut the newsroom, you cut the heart. And then the rest of the paper slowly dies."

Ian sighed. "Then what do you want me to do, Father?"

"For starters, the television station in Oakland needs a firmer hand."

Ian smiled. "That should be easy."

Adam shook his head. "No, Ian, no shortcuts this time. I want you to go over there and play watchdog for a couple months at least. You might even think about staying there."

"Stay there?" Ian's smile faded. "In Oakland?"

Adam began to sign some papers. "It's not a gulag in Siberia, for crissake. You seem to like to forget that your father came from the East Bay."

"But --"

"Don't argue with me, Ian. I'm not in the mood."

"I'll be in my office if you want me," Ian said curtly, and left.

Adam leaned back in his chair wearily. He felt a stab of disappointment that his son was not more of a visionary. Ian would be able to run the corporation someday but only if it were first set on a sort of automatic pilot.

The intercom buzzed, and Adele reminded him he had a doctor's appointment. "And Kellen's here to see you," she added.

"Tell her to come in," Adam said. He ran his hand quickly over his face, as if to erase his fatigue so Kellen would not see it.

He smiled slightly when she came in, wearing not one of her strange outfits but a pretty dress. "You look very grown up and ladylike today," he said. "How about if we go to the club for dinner tonight. There's something I want to talk to you about."

"I can't," she said. "I have a date."

"With Stephen?"

"Yes. We're going to the Concordia Club." She saw the look on Adam's face. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about Stephen," Adam said. "Don't you think you two are seeing too much of each other lately?"

"Daddy, I've known Stephen since I was a baby."

"Yes, but maybe it's time for you to go out with other young men. What about that fellow you met at the club dance last summer? And that young man at school, the one from Boston."

"He's boring."

"He seemed like nice young man, from a good family."

Kellen met Adam's eyes directly. "And Stephen isn't?"