"So do I. I miss you like crazy."
Then why aren't you here with me? "I miss you, too. Hurry home."
Howard Keller walked into Lara's office carrying a thick manila envelope.
"You're not going to like this," Keller said.
"What's up?"
Keller laid the envelope on Lara's desk. "This is a copy of Gertrude Meeks's manuscript. Don't ask me how I got hold of it. We could both go to jail."
"Have you read it?"
He nodded. "Yes. "
"And? "
"I think you'd better read it yourself. She wasn't even working here when some of these things happened. She must have done a lot of digging."
"Thanks, Howard."
Lara waited until he left the office; then she pressed down the key on the intercom. "No calls."
She opened the manuscript and began to read.
It was devastating. It was a portrait of a scheming, domi neering woman who had clawed her way to the top. It depicted her temper tantrums and her imperious manner with her em ployees. It was meanspirited, filled with nasty little anec dotes. What the manuscript left out was Lara's independence and courage, her talent and vision and generosity. She went on reading.
"...One of the Iron Butterfly's tricks was to schedule her business meetings early on the first morning of negotia tions, so that the others were jet-lagged and Cameron was fresh.
"...At a meeting with the Japanese, they were served tea with Valium in it, while Lara Cameron drank coffee with Ritalin, a stimulant that speeds up the thought process.
"...At a meeting with some German bankers, they were served coffee with Valium, while she drank tea with Ritalin.
"...When Lara Cameron was negotiating for the Queens property and the community board turned her down, she got them to change their mind by making up a story that she had a young daughter who was going to live in one of the build ings..."
"...When tenants refused to leave the building at the Dorchester Apartments, Lara Cameron filled it with homeless people...."
Nothing had been left out. When Lara finished reading it, she sat at her desk for a long time, motionless. She sent for Howard Keller.
"I want you to run a Dun and Bradstreet on Henry Seinfeld. He owns Candlelight Press."
"Right."
He was back fifteen minutes later. "Seinfeld has a D-C rating."
"Which means?"
"That's the lowest rating there is. A fourth-line credit rating is poor, and he's four notches below that. A good stiff wind would blow him over. He lives from book to book. One flop and he's out of business."
"Thanks, Howard." She telephoned Terry Hill, her attor ney.
"Terry, how would you like to be a book publisher?"
"What did you have in mind?"
"I want you to buy Candlelight Press in your name. It's owned by Henry Seinfeld."
"That should be no problem. How much do you want to pay?"
"Try to buy him out for five hundred thousand. If you have to, go to a million. Make sure that the deal includes all the literary properties he owns. Keep my name out of it. "
The offices of Candlelight Press were downtown in an old building on Thirty-fourth Street. Henry Seinfeld's quarters consisted of a small secretarial office and a slightly larger office for himself.
Seinfeld's secretary said, "There's a Mr. Hill to see you, Mr. Seinfeld."
"Send him in."
Terry Hill had called earlier that morning.
He walked into the shabby little office. Seinfeld was sitting behind the desk.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Hill?"
"I'm representing a German publishing company that might be interested in buying your company."
Seinfeld took his time lighting a cigar. "My company's not for sale," he said.
"Oh, that's too bad. We're trying to break into the Ameri can market, and we like your operation."
"I've built this company up from scratch," Seinfeld said. "It's like my baby. I'd hate to part with it."
"I understand how you feel," the lawyer said sympatheti cally. "We'd be willing to give you five hundred thousand dollars fork. "
Seinfeld almost choked on his cigar. "Five hundred? Hell, I've got one book coming out that's going to be worth a million dollars alone. No, sir. Your offer's an insult."
"My offer's a gift. You have no assets, and you're over a hundred thousand dollars in debt. I checked. Tell you what I'll do. I'll go up to six hundred thousand. That's my final offer."
"I'd never forgive myself. Now, if you could see your way clear to going to seven..."
Terry Hill rose to his feet. "Good-bye, Mr. Seinfeld. I'll find another company."
He started toward the door.
"Wait a minute," Seinfeld said. "Let's not be hasty. The fact is, my wife's been after me to retire. Maybe this would be a good time."
Terry Hill walked over to the desk and pulled a contract out of his pocket. "I have a check here for six hundred thousand dollars. Just sign where the X is."
Lara sent for Keller.
"We just bought Candlelight Press."
"Great. What do you want to do with it?"
"First of all, kill Gertrude Meeks's book. See that it doesn't get published. There are plenty of ways to keep stalling. If she sues to get her rights back, we can tie her up in court for years."
"Do you want to fold the company?"
"Of course not. Put someone in to run it. We'll keep it as a tax loss."
When Keller returned to his office, he said to his secretary, " I want to give you a letter. Jack Hellman, Hellman Realty. Dear Jack, I discussed your offer with Miss Cameron, and we feel that it would be unwise to go into your venture at this time. However, we want you to know that we would be interested in any future..."