Being the carnal person that I am, I give Kelly a close look. She is a stunning woman with a creamy complexion under all those freckles. Built like a brick shithouse, with just a slight tendency to fat, Kelly is about my age and probably loves sex but she also wears a wedding band.

"Yes, Kelly," says Peter.

"You're on speaker with Glenn, Morty and Jill Price," says Kelly, smiling at us. She walks out, pulling the door almost closed.

Peter repeats that. "Glenn, Morty and Jill, three of my favorite people. Jill, you aren't lobbying for support for your publication plan before budget approval, are you?"

Leaning forward, I say, "Indeed I am." Relax and listen.

"Well, Morty and Glenn, what do you guys think?" asks Peter. Peter's tone is less formal with these guys than with me.

Glenn looks at Morty, who holds out his hand as if to say, `Go ahead.' Glenn leans forward and says, "I like it, Mr. Marriott. Frankly, it's the first concrete thing I've seen on the fiftieth." He lifts his thumbs from the desk in a little shrug and raises his eyebrows.

"Okay, how about you, Morty?" asks Peter. "You are there, aren't you?"

Glenn quickly jots a note that says, `Kerry may be listening!' and shows it to Morty.

"We both like it, Mr. Marriott," says Morty, leaning forward slightly. "Frankly, it's exactly the kind of excitement we need around here. It stops rumors like the one about maybe Ferro plans to sell Doc's Place after the remodel."

"Then it's a good thing indeed," says Peter. "Who gets these rumors started anyway, gentlemen?"

Glenn and Morty glance at one another and Morty says, "Both Glenn and I hear that question frequently from Doc's patrons, Mr. Marriott."

"Is that so?" asks Peter. "I have been told that no one—including patrons, employees and locals—is asking that question." Glenn writes another note and shows it to Morty. It says, `Phil & co. told him that!'

"What are patrons supposed to think when a business does not even promote its own fiftieth anniversary?" asks Morty.

"As you gentlemen know, Ferro has approved extensive remodeling plans, including reinforcing the foundation and walls in case of earthquakes."

"Oh hell, Mr. Marriott," says Glenn, "Last house I sold, I remodeled it from top to bottom just before putting it on the market. Remodeling Doc's doesn't convince anyone you're not selling."

"A valid point, Glenn," says Peter, "What are some things Doc's should be doing to convince people that Ferro and Doc's have a long-term relationship?" asks Peter.

"One way is to tell Phil and Dick to approve Jill's publication plan now," says Morty, winking at me and holding up one thumb.

"One way?" asks Peter.

"For another," says Glenn, "We've been telling Paul to pull out all the stops on promoting Doc's fiftieth as one way to get people in here. Put a bug up his ass."

"Don't tell me Kerry hasn't told you about all of the promotions and events we have planned?" says Morty. "What the hell are those guys doing down there?"

"I will ask Kerry that question, Morty," says Peter, "Now, what kind of internal investment can Ferro make to show our long-term intentions?"

"What do you mean by internal investment?" asks Glenn. "You mean the employees?"

"Yes," says Peter, "Specifically, I'm interested in how Ferro can invest in Doc's executives and managers, Glenn," says Peter.

Glenn and Morty exchange glances and shrug. Morty says, "You're outside of our expertise, Mr. Marriott. The dealers and change aprons are overdue for training, like spotting cheats but I thought that was part of Kerry's presentation to you. Are you talking about sending us to charm school so we don't cuss so goddamn much?"

That cracks me up.

Peter must have heard me, because he asks, "Can you jump in here, Jill?"

"At the risk of stepping on toes," I say as I lean forward again, "Morty, Glenn and their shift managers have decades of experience and a lot of energy among them. They also know Doc's patrons on a first-name basis. Let them run things as they wish."

Another voice intrudes from Peter's end, and says, "A dispassionate observer might ask what you know about the casino industry, Ms. Price."

Glenn and Morty exchange knowing glances. "Well hello, Kerry," says Glenn, "Morty and I were wondering if you were listening in. Are Phil, Max and Paul there too?"

Silence for a moment, and then Kerry speaks up, "Yes, we're all here but the question remains, Ms. Price."

"Please, call me Jill and the answer is that I know nothing about the casino industry, Mr. North."

"So, Jill, you're voicing your opinion because. . . ." says Kerry.

"Because I asked her to," says Peter. "Please continue, Jill."

"Second, and again, no offense intended but why is marketing stuck in analysis paralysis? I asked Kevin McVay and Carl Peters yesterday if their exit and man-on-the-street interview results support fiftieth anniversary promotions and events. They said yes. Put money in the budget, come up with ideas and make something happen."

Glenn and Morty are laughing silently now. We hear some commotion on the other end of the line, and the line goes silent for a three-count. My guess is that Peter pushed the mute button.

Suddenly, Peter says, "Why stop now, Jill? Any more insights?"

"Let's see," I say precisely, "I haven't offended Mr. Book yet."

"Hey, I'm enjoying this," says a warm voice with genuine delight behind it. "I'm looking forward to meeting you, Jill. Please, call me Max and go ahead."

"The non-revenue executives and managers I've met lack communication skills," I continue in the same precise tone. "Forget analysis, I advise intercession. Videotape all executives and managers in every meeting, followed by a critique from a trained consultant. When anyone passes eighty percent of the criteria for effective communication, he or she graduates. Take a week or two for most and a month for the others. Finish with everyone in four months, tops."

Max says, "You're talking about your own boss, right?"

"Yes I am, Max. I'm also talking about Glenn and Morty here. They would set the example by volunteering to be among the first subjects. Isn't that right, gentlemen?"

"Absolutely," says Glenn.

"Count me in," says Morty.

"Well, write it up and I'll look it over when I get back," says Max.

"How about first thing in the morning?" I ask. "Peter, may I send it to you so you can pass it around for review? Say a little after nine?" Notice that Glenn and Morty exchange a glance when they hear me address Peter by his given name. Glenn also holds up his copy of the executive communication plan.

"Perfect," says Peter, "Let's re-convene at ten a.m. after everyone has had a chance to review your plan. Jill, I'll tell Louise to call then. You be in her office. Morty, Glenn, you're welcome to join us if you wish."

"No thanks," says Glenn, "but we're looking forward to hearing about it."

"Anything else?" asks Peter.

Kerry's voice says, "Carlos tells me you have the most consistent kill shot he's ever seen in a racquetball court, Jill. Max and I would like to see that first hand."

"Any time," I say. "Have a good evening, gentlemen."

The line goes dead. I sit back and look at them.

"You know, Jill," says Morty, "If I didn't know Mr. Marriott better, I might suspect you set that up."

"Did you know that he would call with those guys?" asks Glenn.

"Nope," I lie, rising to my feet, "but I've already presented the communication plan to Louise and she's probably already faxed it to Peter."

Morty and Glenn exchange a glance. Glenn says, "You called Mr. Marriott, Peter, Jill, and he didn't correct you. Mind explaining that to us?"

Shrugging, I say, "Peter's his name, right?"

"You've got sand, Jill. I'll give you that," says Morty, standing and extending his hand. I grasp his hand and shake it firmly. "You're not afraid to kick up a hornet's nest."

"I'll say!" says Glenn, taking my hand in both of his. "You come by and chew the fat any time, okay?"

"Thanks, guys and thanks for backing me up on that communication plan. Sorry I didn't have time to give you a heads up about that."

"You would have if Mr. Marriott hadn't called," says Morty. "That's why you dropped by, right?" He returns the copies of the plan that I handed them earlier. "It's funny as hell that you told Max you'll send the communication plan in the morning when you have it done."

Punch him lightly on a skinny shoulder. "See you guys tomorrow," I say and walk out. It's almost five so I stop at my office only long enough to lock up the plans, then I'm out the door and down the staircase.

Later, when I ring Lucy's doorbell, I see that she is dressed nice. When she closes the door behind her, I look her over and say, "Hi Lucy. What's up?"

"I've got you for the moment, Jill," she says, sliding her arm in mine. "We have reservations for a romantic dinner in North Lake Tahoe and then we'll stay at your place tonight."

Shrug, lead her to the Buick and drive home where I shower and change into a short and tight black dress with a little jacket and a warm, black wrap. Put on a string of pearls a girlfriend bought for me last year.

Lucy chatters about her family, her ex-husband who is still a close friend, her condo and coming out of the closet. Listen half-heartedly, commenting now and then but none of it means a goddamn thing to me.

In the bar before dinner, Lucy introduces me to a couple of women—a local neurosurgeon and her partner, a dietitian who is in great shape. The doc is relaxed and confident and her partner is alluring. Find the dietitian so seductive that I try to remember her name, which is Megan. Lucy invites them to eat with us and it turns out to be a really enjoyable evening.

Afterward, at my place, as Lucy and I doze off after some luscious sex, I tell her thanks for a great evening. That makes her happy and she cries a little. She begins to tell me something, but I fall asleep and miss whatever it is.

She wakes me to say she's called a cab and she's going home. I fall asleep, barely aware of her leaving.

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