Chapter 29

That night following the Derby there was a massive celebration all over Bluegrass Farm. In the first place, hundreds of thousands of dollars had been won at the track and with bookies around the world. Beyond that, though, there was the promise of a humongous payday when the pair of horses took the remaining two races in the Triple Crown. What had been a dream and a theory appeared to becoming a reality.

There were other changes made immediately at the Farm. First, over the five weeks between the Derby and The Belmont Stakes, Dan Johnson put his entire security team on full alert with half his force on duty at all times. Second, Pasha and Shari, along with their grown offspring, the Jacksons’ tigers, Caliph and Princess, were flown down to Lexington. The six tigers were utterly delighted to be able to roam over 16 square miles. For the New York City cats, it was the first time they had ever been able to truly roam, although Pasha and Shari had been able to roam the moors around Prendwick Castle during Bill and Caitie’s honeymoon visit.

The heightened security resulted from the realization that the world’s bookmakers were looking at a multimillion dollar hit, and for a number of them the possibility of violence had not been entirely written out of the script. For that reason, the same personal security firm that had protected the young rape victim, Cassie Fisher, was retained to guard the girls and the horses when they were at Pimlico and Belmont Park.

Once again, Dan Johnson was on the phone to Ed Brennan, the principal of Memorial High School. And fortunately, Ed’s experience as a Ranger helped; Security for the horses was obvious but to him so was the personal security of the two girls. He realized that they were the only riders either horse would allow on its back and, of course, without riders the horses couldn’t race.

Monday was a day that the young lovers spent at the high school; the security concerns were allayed, though, because the academic year at University of Kentucky where they were taking most of their classes had ended. When they arrived at school — to their dismay, Dan insisted on driving them in two silver Rolls-Royce — Tanya noticed that there seemed to be far more students hanging around in the halls than normal. Moreover, while the foursome were largely self-contained, she thought she knew most of the other students by sight at least, if not by name.

But many of the faces she saw in the hall were new to her. Furthermore, when she looked more closely she realized that, while they were dressed in a fashion similar to the other students, they were actually substantially older than high-school age. Of course, she was correct. The fact was that there were more than twenty agents of the security company prowling Memorial’s halls.

No sooner had they entered the school than they heard themselves being paged on the school’s PA system to report to the principal’s office.

Ed Brennan’s first words to Tanya and Tasha were, “Sheesh! As if you two haven’t cost us enough in athletic awards, now you have to go and create an Equestrian Team!” Pretending to be miffed he continued, “Well! Since you two picked up more than $800,000 on Saturday, you can pay for your own dumb varsity letters!” Then he shook his head and added, “And I guess there will have to be a horse’s head on the letter, too.”

Just then his secretary, Mabel Stevens, stuck her head in the office. “Edward Brennan, would you kindly stop berating these young people!”

“Why?” Brennan asked as innocently as he could.

“For three reasons,” she responded. “First, I got a call from the university this morning with the kids’ grades: all A+. Second, I made a few thousand dollars Saturday afternoon, courtesy of a now very unhappy bookie—”

“Mabel Stevens!” Brennan exclaimed. “You ... you gambled!”

“Edward, when a pair of horses win a race by more than 200 yards, it’s not gambling! It’s ... it’s taking candy from a baby,” she sniffed. “And finally, through the good offices of those off-shore Internet betting thingies, I’m going to be picking up a few hundred thousand more in a few weeks after the girls take the next two races!”

Then pretending to glare at him she concluded, “So, Edward, lay off!” With that she firmly shut the door.

Brennan could no longer maintain the charade. He started laughing. He then complimented the girls on their riding and all four for their great work at the university.

The Monday following the Derby was also a big day for Jill Barnes and Tom Brady. During the preceding week Jeremy Braxton had cleaned out his office. But before Jill would allow Tom to move in she insisted on looking it over with an eye toward redecorating. The decorator who had redone the girls’ suites and the corner suites for Jill and Mel had been retained to redo Tom’s office.

In the intervening week there had been more news for Brady, Barrett & Clay. It turned out that the situation involving Jeremy Braxton’s desire to cash out was far more widely known than anyone had realized. But as the word spread about Tom Brady becoming the senior partner, it was as if a dam had burst: New business was coming in in a flood. This had another effect on the firm. Although the firm occupied the highest office floor in its building, it also held long-term leases on the two floors below and had subleased them. And to add to Josh Barrett’s pre-dinner woes, the tenant on the floor below had given notice of his intent not to renew his company’s sublease.

While previously this was seen as terrible news, in light of the new business flooding in, both Tom and Josh agreed that it was a godsend in disguise. The Firm was about to need the space itself. The company occupying the third floor down had indicated its intention to renew its sublease, but, while it was being renewed, it was only being renewed on a short-term basis. Brady, Barrett & Clay would probably need that floor, too, before very long.

When the decorator appeared, she sat with Tom and just started to chat. Jill listened for a while and realized that the decorator was a master psychologist. There was no mention of decor at all; rather she talked to him about his lifestyle, likes, dislikes, favorite activities and so forth. Realizing she was just getting in the way, Jill decided to use the time to collect on the wagers from the dinner.

Jill left the partners’ conference room where Tom and the decorator were meeting and went to Abigail Bentley’s desk. Abigail, Josh Barrett’s secretary, was one of the two executive secretaries who had recorded the wagers Jill had booked at the dinner. They retired to what would be Tom’s new office. Before going in, Abby asked the other secretary to start calling the people on the betting list; it was time to pay up. Before leaving her desk, though, the woman gave Jill her own check for $1,000.

Once in the office, Abigail took our her own checkbook and wrote out her check. Surprisingly to Jill, the woman didn’t seem to be at all unhappy. She certainly knew that both she and Mel would have been in tears if they had had to write such a check. And being the woman she was, Jill asked about it.

“Why don’t I mind writing you this check?” Abigail repeated. “Actually there are two reasons, and one of them applies to Jane Chambers who just gave you her check. The morning following the dinner, when the effects of the champagne had worn off, she and I contacted a friend of ours who lives in Louisville and works at Churchill Downs. Anyway, we arbitraged our bet: We each sent her $40 to bet on the Bluegrass Farm’s entry to win.

“So we lost $1,000 to you, but won $4,400 from the track.” With a bright smile she added, “We couldn’t lose.”

“You said there were two reasons. What was the other one?”

“Mrs. Barnes—”

“It’s Miss ... unfortunately,” Jill interrupted. “But I greatly prefer Jill.” Then with a warm smile she asked, “What do you prefer? Abigail? Abby? And may I call you by your first name?”

“Mrs. Barnes,” Abby repeated with emphasis, “in the last week some of us have learned quite a bit about you ... and your twin sister, Mrs. Brewster. We know you’ve raised two sons under unbelievably difficult conditions, but they may be the two finest young men in the state.”

Then with a warm smile of her own she added, “No one has ever called me Abby before, but I find I really love the sound of it. So would you please... ?”

“Okay, Abby. But you never told me the second reason.”

“Jill, I’m from the hill country east of here. So is Jane Chambers, by the way. Anyway, when I made that bet with you at the dance I had forgotten something my granddaddy told me. He said that when someone who isn’t stupid offers you what appears to be a sucker bet, it is ... But the sucker is you, not her.” With a grin Abby concluded, “I forgot that piece of advice.”

“Abby, how do you like it here at Brady, Barrett & Clay? I gather you both have been here for quite a while.”

“For a girl from the hill country, this is absolutely the finest job possible. After all, we really don’t have much education.”

“I’ll bet you have more than I do,” Jill responded with a smile.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Abby retorted. “You have at least a college degree and all Jane and I have are high-school diplomas.”

“Sorry, Abby. I’m a seventh-grade dropout. That’s the extent of my education.”

Abby just shook her head, but the conversation was broken off as people started to appear to settle their bets. Two of them attracted Jill’s attention: Harrison Carver and Marilyn Hodges.

Carver gave Jill his check, shook his head and said, “Well, at least I have a lot of company, including two of the three name partners.”

Jill slowly shook her head and replied, “If you mean that they both paid me $1,000, you’re right. But if you mean they lost that much on Saturday’s race, you’re wrong. They were at the track with us and they each made $4,400 betting on King and Blackie, so they ended $3,400 richer.”

That information did not make Carver’s day.

Marilyn Hodges appeared to tell Jill that she didn’t have the money yet, but would. Then to Jill’s utter shock she offered to go double or nothing on The Preakness. Jill almost couldn’t believe her ears, but that’s what the girl had said.

“I’ll do it on one condition,” Jill told her. “It’s apparent that your bet wasn’t very well thought-out. Frankly, I suspect you did it just to show your support for your date. But at any rate, the condition is this: If you lose you owe me $2,000. And if you can’t pay, you have to work it off at the rate of ten dollars an hour. That means you will owe me 200 hours, and on the basis of a 40-hour week, that’s five full weeks.

“Okay?”

“But my job...” Hodges protested. “I don’t get anything like five weeks vacation, and I can’t afford to lose it.”

Her response caused Jill no problem at all. “That’s simple. You’ll take all of this year’s vacation and we’ll cover the rest. Okay?” she repeated.

Marilyn Hodges agreed and that was that.

By that time all the bets had been settled, so Jill turned her attention to the remaining pressing problem: a secretary for Tom. Since by then she and Abigail Bentley were again alone in the office, she brought up the subject. With a grin she commented, “I guess Clara Barton couldn’t face the prospect of having to train a new senior partner.” Clara Barton had been Jeremy Braxton’s secretary.

Abby’s eyes were dancing but she professed not to know what Jill was talking about.

“Don’t give me that, Abby! We both know damned well that a good secretary makes all the wheels turn in the right directions. It’s your job to keep your boss from sounding like an idiot ... which is what he would sound like if you allowed some of the trash he writes to get out of the office!”

Abby didn’t reply. Instead she very cutely stuck out the tip of her tongue and giggled.

“Now, what are we going to do for a secretary for Tom?”

“Before we get into that, Jill, I just want to say that what you did for Clara was extraordinary! Even though she’s got almost three years until she’s 65, you’ve arranged for her to get her full salary until then. And that’s complete with all bonuses, 401(k) payments ... the whole nine yards. So thank you! That was truly a wonderful thing you did!”

“Me?” Jill protested. “I don’t even work here. How could I do that?”

Instead of replying, Abigail mused, “Oh, well ... For a girl who could casually write checks for $50 million on her personal checking account, I guess that’s really small change, isn’t it?”

Then it was Jill’s turn to stick out her tongue and giggle. “A secretary?” she repeated.

Abigail Bentley looked straight into Jill’s eyes. Although they were sitting at a conference table in what was to be Tom’s office, the pair had pulled their chairs away from the table and were facing each other. From the look in Abby’s eyes, Jill could tell that what was to follow was very important to the woman.

Abby began slowly. “Jill, as you’ve probably guessed, the senior secretaries have all been here awhile.” Grimacing, she continued, “Some of us have been here as long as there’s been a firm.”

“Okay,” Jill prompted. “But what does this mean with respect to getting a secretary for Tom?”

“Look, Jill, the way things typically work is on a sort of seniority system. And that means, in turn, that if things took their normal course, Tom’s secretary would be the next most senior after Jane Chambers and me.” Abby paused and then continued, “Frankly, I don’t know who the next-most-senior secretary is ... and I don’t want to know. Because, whoever she might be, she would be wrong for him. She would be far too old.”

“And the answer is... ?”

Speaking very slowly, Abby replied, “Carolyn Mansfield.”

“And who is Carolyn Mansfield?”

“She’s quite young — early 20s — and a college graduate. And she’s very smart. I’ve talked to the other seniors, and we’ve all had the same experience with her: We are never asked to answer the same question twice. Whatever she’s told, she remembers. Furthermore — and this is an incredible asset for a good secretary — she has a truly remarkable memory for names and faces. There’s nothing quite like a secretary remembering the name of a client who may not have been in the office for years. But she can. And her standard secretarial skills are top notch.”

“But the problem is... ?”

“What problem?” Abby protested. “Who said she has a problem?”

“You did, of course,” Jill replied with a little grin. “In that little speech you just gave, there was one thing missing: The word ‘BUT’ written in great big capital letters! I may be uneducated, but I’m not a fool!”

Abby slowly shook her head and answered, “Jill Barnes, you certainly are no fool. In fact, you’re the smartest, most perceptive woman I’ve ever met.”

“The problem... ?” Jill repeated.

“The problems are twofold: First, she’s a rape victim, and I gather it was pretty awful; she cannot have children as a result,” Abby said softly. “And, I guess, the second relates to the first: It’s her appearance. Although she’s only about 23, she looks to be on the shady side of 40.”

“But the rest of you seniors think she has the makings of a top-flight executive secretary?”

Abby rapidly nodded her head, so Jill asked that Carolyn Mansfield be paged to come to their office. The young woman appeared very quickly and Jill found herself in total agreement with Abby’s assessment of Carolyn’s appearance: Indeed, she did appear to be on the shady side of 40. First, her eyes were hidden behind a pair of large-framed glasses with Coke-bottle lenses. Her brown hair was held back in a shapeless bun and her clothing left her appearing shapeless. Jill estimated that the girl was overweight for her five foot nine inch height, but she could have weighed anywhere from 150 pounds to well north of 200.

When the girl was standing close to Jill, she appeared to be on tenterhooks.

Jill wasted no time on pleasantries; instead, she started right in. “Would you like to be Tom Brady’s executive secretary?”

“More than anything in this world!” the girl breathed. “I would do absolutely anything to have the opportunity.”

“Anything?” Jill repeated skeptically.

“Anything!” Carolyn repeated emphatically.

“Since you’re willing to do anything, for openers why don’t you just take off your clothes? I want to see what’s hiding under all that camouflage.” Then with a grin she added, “By the way, I’m Jill Barnes, Tom’s fiancée ... and in a few weeks I’ll be his wife. I’m telling you this so you’ll know what my interest is.”

When Jill mentioned stripping, Carolyn Mansfield’s eyes had widened and she began to visibly shake. “Strip? Right here? Right now?”

Jill grimaced, rose to her feet, went to the office door and locked it. Returning to her seat she said, “Look ... there’s no one here except two other women. Surely you’ve been naked in the presence of women before?”

The girl didn’t respond. Instead she just stood there frozen and shaking.

“Oh, well...” Jill sighed, “if it will make it easier for you...” With that she quickly stripped bare. To her surprise Jill saw that Abigail Bentley was doing the same thing. When Abby was bare, she started to undress the girl; her hands seemed to be incapable of functioning.