"I have a little surprise for you. Can you come down to my office?"
"Now?"
"Yes."
"I'm afraid I'm in the middle of - "
"Oh, if you're too busy, never mind. It will keep."
"No, no. I - I'll be right down."
George's phone was ringing again. He ignored it. He picked up a handful of papers and walked toward the bank of elevators. Looking around to make sure no one was observing him, he walked past the elevators and took the backstairs. When he reached the floor above, he checked to make sure Helen had left her office, then casually walked in as though he had business there. If he was caught - But he could not think of that. He opened the middle drawer where he knew Helen kept her access card to the vault. There it was. He picked it up, slipped it in his pocket, left the office and hurried downstairs. When he reached his desk, Helen was there, looking around for him.
"Sorry," George said. "I was called away for a minute."
"Oh, that's all right. Tell me what the surprise is."
"Well, a little bird told me it's your birthday," George said, "and I want to take you to lunch today." He watched the expression on her face. She was torn between telling him the truth and missing the chance of a lunch date with him.
"That's - very nice of you," she said. "I'd love to have lunch with you."
"All right," he told her. "I'll meet you at Tony's at one o'clock." It was a date he could have made with her over the telephone, but Helen Thatcher was too thrilled to even question it. He watched as she left.
The minute she was gone, George went into action. He had a lot to accomplish before he returned the plastic card. He took the elevator to the seventh floor and walked over to the security area where the guard stood in front of the closed grilled gate. George inserted the plastic card and the gate opened. As he started inside, the guard said, "I don't think I've seen you here before."
George's heart began to beat faster. He smiled. "No. This isn't my usual territory. One of my customers suddenly decided he wanted to see his stock certificates, so I've got to dig them out. I hope it doesn't take me the whole blasted afternoon."
The guard smiled sympathetically. "Good luck." He watched as George walked into the vault.
The room was concrete, thirty feet by fifteen feet. George walked back to the fireproof file cabinets that contained the stocks and opened the steel drawers. Inside were hundreds of stock certificates that represented shares of every company on the New York and American stock exchanges. The number of shares represented by each certificate was printed on the face of the certificate and ranged from one share to one hundred thousand shares. George went through them swiftly and expertly. He selected certificates of various blue-chip companies, representing a value of one million dollars. He slipped the pieces of paper into his inside jacket pocket, closed the drawer and walked back to the guard.
"That was fast," the guard said.
George shook his head. "The computers came up with the wrong numbers. I'll have to straighten it out in the morning."
"Those damned computers," the guard commiserated. "They'll be the ruination of us all yet."
When George returned to his desk, he found he was soaked with perspiration. But so far so good. He picked up the telephone and called Alexandra.
"Darling," he said, "I want to see you and your grandmother tonight."
"I thought you had a business engagement tonight, George."
"I did, but I canceled it. I have something very important to tell you."
At exactly 1:00 P.M. George was in Helen Thatcher's office returning the access card to her desk drawer, while she waited for him at the restaurant. He desperately wanted to hang on to the card, for he would need it again, but he knew that every card that was not turned in each night was invalidated by the computer the next morning. At ten minutes past one, George was lunching with Helen Thatcher.
He took her hand in his. "I want us to do this more often," George said, looking at her searchingly. "Are you free for lunch tomorrow?"
She beamed. "Oh, yes, George."
When George Mellis walked out of his office that afternoon, he was carrying with him one-million-dollars' worth of stock certificates.
He arrived at the Blackwell house promptly at seven o'clock and was ushered into the library, where Kate and Alexandra were waiting for him.
"Good evening," George said. "I hope this is not an intrusion, but I had to speak to you both." He turned to Kate. "I know this is very old-fashioned of me, Mrs. Blackwell, but I would like your permission for your granddaughter's hand in marriage. I love Alexandra, and I believe she loves me. But it would make both of us happy if you would give us your blessing." He reached into his jacket pocket, brought out the stock certificates and tossed them on the table in front of Kate. "I'm giving her a million dollars as a wedding present. She won't need any of your money. But we both need your blessing."
Kate glanced down at the stock certificates George had carelessly scattered on the table. She recognized the names of every one of the companies. Alexandra had moved to George, her eyes shining. "Oh, darling!" She turned to her grandmother, her eyes imploring, "Gran?"
Kate looked at the two of them standing together, and there was no way she could deny them. For a brief instant, she envied them. "You have my blessing," she said.
George grinned and walked over to Kate. "May I?" He kissed her on the cheek.
For the next two hours they talked excitedly about wedding plans. "I don't want a large wedding, Gran," Alexandra said. "We don't have to do that, do we?"