Walk by Liz' office but her door is still closed. Find Louise in her office staring out the window at the parking garage. Tell her I'm ready.

Louise turns to look at me, recognition growing slowly. She takes almost a full minute to come back from wherever she was. "Ready?" she asks.

"Meet Doc's management, talk about my job, how you work and how this place works," I say, approaching her. "You're my front door to this place, Louise," I tell her, "So open up and let's get to work."

"The woman who filled your position before . . . the six-month gap," begins Louise slowly, "was a real pro. She taught me a lot about what it takes to produce a successful magazine."

Sit down, thinking she'll feel more comfortable if I do, and watch her.

Louise talks for a while until I realize she is not going to tell me about Doc's Place. She is going to keep telling me how much she learned from this woman who edited Doc's Talks for four years and never won a single industry award. Louise cannot or will not focus on her duties. As a manager, she's a flake. What is she doing in a position of responsibility within a profitable company?

She pauses and says, "I guess you should meet the executives. Where would you like to start?"

"How about the person in charge when the top executives are out of town?"

Louise sighs and says, "Dick Scope is the Director of Finance and ultimately in control while Phil is out of town."

"The money man," I say, standing, "Let's meet him. Who else?"

"Larry Witty is the Controller, another money man," says Louise, leading the way.

We walk toward the office where I interviewed with Peter a couple weeks ago. However, we turn before we get there and pass two gorgeous secretaries. One is a freckle-faced redhead and the other is a Spanish beauty with dark hair and large, dark eyes. We approach an open door behind the redhead.

Follow Louise into the office and see a handsome, middle-aged man behind the desk. He has a five o'clock shadow at mid-morning. When Louise introduces us, he stands and walks around the desk toward me with a smile. He is a little guy, about five-six, one-forty, with little hands and little feet. He extends his hand and I shake it.

"Nice to meet you, Jill," says Dick Scope.

"A pleasure, Dick," I say.

Dick asks, "Mind if I ask you a question right out of the chute?"

"Shoot."

"The alumni magazines you gave Louise as examples of work product," says Dick, "were they meant to solicit funds?"

"No," I tell him. "Alumni rags attempt to assure donors and potential donors that they have invested wisely in the future of science, humanities, business and so on. Do you have a particular article in mind?"

"A particular photo, actually," he says. "The dean of the graduate school of business looks like he's pissed."

"Ah yes, I selected that shot because that is how he looks when he's serious, which is all the time," I say, remembering. "Do you remember his famous quote? It was in large type on the facing page." When he frowns as if he might recall, I quote, "'In every successful organization, the CEO must be the presiding high priest of the books.'"

"Hmm," he says, still frowning. "Seems like if he wanted to solicit donations from the alumni, he would have smiled or appeared friendlier."

"Just the opposite, Dick," I declare. "Donating to a university is like investing. The heavy donors want serious people watching over their investments. A smile from him would have been inappropriate."

"Really?" he says softly, almost muttering. "I would have thought he would smile."

My immediate impression is that Dick Scope won't listen if he doesn't hear what he expects to hear—fine for an accountant or a clerk but not a director. Like Louise, he doesn't seem capable. Hope the whole second string isn't this stupid or this place is in trouble.

"Tell you what, Dick," I say to him, "I'll make sure any photo of you has a big grin. How's that?"

"Great," he says, appearing relieved. "I'm sure you'll do fine, Jill. Good luck." He extends his hand again and I shake it.

Louise and I stop outside the neighboring office. The nameplate says it belongs to Larry Witty, Controller. "First impressions?" whispers Louise.

"Hears what he wants to hear."

She simply nods and leads me into Larry's office and introduces me. We shake hands. Larry Witty looks at me, grins and doesn't say a goddamn thing. Finally, Louise says, "Larry is responsible for the computers, among other things."

Don't know shit about computers but all vehicles have a make and model, so I ask, "What are they?"

"IBM System/3s," he says. Following my instinct I ask, "Are they up to the task or do they need an upgrade?"

He stares at me, grinning and blinking. "Well," I say to the room in general, "we're probably interrupting." Walk out with Louise in tow. "Jeez Louise," I say, "Why didn't you warn me Larry doesn't talk?"

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