Envy

* * *

 

 

“To which he said?” Daniel Matherly asked.

 

“Nothing that bears repeating,” his son-in-law replied.

 

“Something about stubborn old men who refuse to see the light, I’d bet.”

 

“Nothing that blatant, but definitely along those lines.”

 

They were having drinks together in Daniel’s home study. Maxine had poured them the first round. “One is his limit. He can’t have another,” she told Noah before leaving them.

 

“I’ll see that he doesn’t,” he called after her as she left the room. But a conspiratorial wink at Daniel nullified his promise to the housekeeper.

 

Now, a half hour later, they were enjoying their second round. “Fetch me my pipe, will you, please?”

 

Noah retrieved Daniel’s pipe from where he’d left it on the desk. He delivered it and a tobacco pouch to the large leather wing chair where Daniel sat with his feet propped on an ottoman. Methodically he packed his pipe and put a match to it.

 

“If Maxine smells that smoke—”

 

“I’ll claim it was you who was smoking.” He exhaled a plume of smoke toward the ceiling. Thoughtfully, his eyes remained fixed on the crown molding. “The mongrels are closing in on us, Noah. They’re mean and they have sharp teeth.”

 

Noah sipped his scotch. “WorldView?” He made a negligent gesture. “I don’t know how I could have stated it any more plainly. Matherly Press isn’t for sale.”

 

“They’ll persist. Particularly that Blume bastard.”

 

“It’s said he pisses ice cubes.”

 

Daniel chuckled. “I don’t doubt it.” He puffed on his pipe for a moment. “Even if Morris Blume falls by the wayside or gives up and goes away, another mongrel, even meaner than he, won’t be far behind.”

 

“Let them come. We can stave them off.”

 

Daniel smiled at his son-in-law’s confidence. Everyone in the industry had become acquainted with Noah Reed a decade ago following the publication of The Vanquished. The novel, set during the Reconstruction, had taken the nation by storm. There wasn’t a publisher in New York who hadn’t wished he’d been lucky enough to nab it, Daniel Matherly included.

 

But to everyone’s surprise, and his new fans’ dismay, Noah’s ambitions lay not in writing, but in publishing. He had followed every step of the publishing process on The Vanquished and had derived more enjoyment out of that than he had from writing the novel.

 

He was an engaging young man with superior intelligence and razor-sharp instincts. Some of his ideas on how best to market his book had been implemented by his publisher, and they had worked. The house reasoned that Noah would be equally successful publishing other books and had hired him.

 

The junior editor had quickly proved his mettle. During his first year, he acquired an obscure manuscript from an unknown author, who became a bestseller with that first novel and remained one to this day.

 

Noah had been a quick study editorially, but the business side of the industry was where he truly distinguished himself. His inventive marketing strategies were so successful that they were blatantly copied by other publishers.

 

He was a fearless negotiator, whom literary agents admired but dreaded facing across the bargaining table. He was a born leader. Once, on the eve of a labor strike, he had traveled to a printing company in Pennsylvania to personally appeal to the disgruntled workers. Acting as a mediator between them and plant management, he helped settle the dispute, quelled the strike, and prevented an industry crisis.

 

Noah Reed was bright, ambitious, even shrewd. Daniel had been rightly accused of being shrewd himself, so he didn’t regard it a derogatory term. So when, to Daniel’s surprise, Noah had come to him three years ago, covertly expressing his unhappiness with the limits placed upon him by his present employer and boldly stating his desire to make a move, Daniel had listened with interest. Noah’s ideas were innovative but didn’t conflict with the ideals on which Daniel’s ancestors had founded Matherly Press. Indeed, Noah shared them.

 

Additionally, Noah had appealed to Daniel’s vanity, though he would never admit it. The younger man had reminded him of himself when he’d been that age—aggressive, determined, confident to the point of conceit, which Daniel also regarded more a virtue than a vice.

 

Daniel told Noah he would need a few days to think it over. He was reluctant to bring in someone who wasn’t family and install him in a position of authority. On the other hand, the business had expanded to the point where he and Maris needed another pair of hands at the helm.

 

For Maris’s part, she was positively giddy over the possibility of working daily with the author of her favorite book. Though she’d met Noah only once, at a literary function, she held him in high esteem and had harbored a secret romantic crush on him for years.

 

With her urging, Daniel created the job of vice president of business affairs for Noah. He’d never regretted that decision.

 

“You still agree with it, don’t you?” Daniel asked him now.

 

“With what?”

 

“The company philosophy.”

 

He gave his father-in-law a retiring look. “From the beginning of our association, I’ve known how you felt about mergers, Daniel. Unquestionably there would be benefits. We would have more funds at our disposal, more venues for marketing and promotion.”

 

“But we’d no longer be autonomous.”

 

“Which was the point I was about to make,” Noah said. “Autonomy was the basis on which Matherly Press was founded. I knew the family mantra even before I married into it.”

 

When Maris began seeing Noah outside the office, Daniel had nursed some reservations. He had been concerned on several levels. First, their ten-year age difference bothered him, but not overly so. Second, Noah’s business acumen wasn’t the only thing on which he’d built a solid reputation. It was rumored that he was a notorious womanizer. With so many rumors circulating for that many years, Daniel had to believe there was some basis for them. His greatest concern, however, was Noah’s personal agenda. By marrying the last eligible Matherly, his career would receive a distinct boost.

 

Of course, when it came right down to it, it wasn’t Daniel’s decision to make. It was his daughter’s, and Maris wanted Noah for her husband. Because of her mother’s untimely death, she had always been mature beyond her years. Necessity had forced her to grow up quickly. She had begun forming her own opinions and making her own decisions at an early age. He had reared her to think for herself and to trust her instincts. It would have been wrong of him to second-guess her choice of a life partner.

 

To his credit, Noah had, without Maris’s knowledge, approached his future father-in-law and told him that if he entertained any doubts regarding the marriage, it would never take place. He loved Maris to distraction, he had said, but he would walk away, forsake his position at Matherly Press, and disappear from her life unless Daniel could give his wholehearted approval of the union.

 

Daniel had given the couple his blessing, but, where Maris’s happiness was concerned, he remained a vigilant watchdog. Yesterday, she had been a bit downcast, although the surprise party was a logical explanation for Noah’s recent inattention.

 

Maris didn’t talk about it, but Daniel also sensed that she was ready for children and was slightly disappointed that she hadn’t become pregnant. It was too early to worry unnecessarily about that. Maris was still young. Noah had expressed a desire for children on numerous occasions. There was plenty of time for them to have a family.

 

Selfishly, Daniel wished for grandchildren soon. He would enjoy bouncing the next generation on his knee before he checked out.

 

Thinking of his daughter now, he asked, “Have you heard from Maris?”

 

“Not since she left this morning.” Noah checked his wristwatch. “She should be there by now. It was a long way to travel and I’m afraid it will turn out to be a bust.”

 

“Hopefully not. She seems very excited about this writer. Speaking of which, she told me about her present.”

 

“Present?”

 

“Last night.”

 

“Oh.” Noah smiled with chagrin. “She’s awfully easy to please, isn’t she?”

 

“Your writer’s cell is no small thing to her, Noah. She called from the airport this morning just prior to boarding her flight. If you’d given her a diamond ring, she couldn’t have been happier. She’s always wanted you to resume writing.”

 

Noah frowned. “I hope she doesn’t expect too much from me. I’ll probably disappoint her.”

 

“Your effort alone will make her happy.”

 

“I’d like to get in a few hours of effort tonight.” Noah set his empty tumbler on the end table and stood up.

 

“Stay and have dinner with me. We’ll play chess afterward.”

 

“Tempting, Daniel. But I should use this time that Maris is away to crank out a few pages. There’s only one way to write, and that’s to write,” he said with a smile. “Can I refresh your drink before I go?”

 

“Thanks, no. Maxine will be measuring the amount left in the decanter as it is.”

 

“Then I for sure want to clear out before the fireworks start.” Noah pulled on his suit jacket and retrieved his briefcase. “Anything else I can do for you?”

 

“As a matter of fact, there is,” Daniel said. “The next time someone approaches you with an offer to buy my publishing house, tell him to fuck off.”

 

Noah laughed. “Shall I quote you?”

 

“Absolutely. In fact, I would prefer it.”

 

 

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