They chatted for a few more minutes then, and she took a bath. And as she was reading in bed, Callan called with a few casual questions.

“It seems odd not being in the same hotel with you, Merrie. This could become a habit.” He sounded relaxed and friendly.

“You'll be happy to see the last of me after Europe, trust me. But first we go to New York. That's the biggie.”

“I know it is. I'm still a little anxious about it.”

“Don't be. It's gone great so far. And the word is out on the street now. The book is going to be oversold by New York. And the tombstone is going to read like a Who's Who of investment banking.” She was referring to the ad that would appear in The Wall Street Journal the day following the offering that would announce the completion of the deal, listing all the underwriters in the syndicate. And in this case, they would be impressive.

“Thanks to you, Meredith,” he said gratefully. “I could never have done this without you.”

“Bullshit,” she said irreverently, and he laughed. He had come to enjoy working with her, and he was sorry it was going to have to end soon. “How were your kids when you got home? Happy to see you, I'll bet.” Especially with no mother around, she knew how important Callan must be to them.

“They were asleep actually. My housekeeper rules the roost with an iron fist. It's good for them. I'll see them tomorrow night when I get home. I thought I'd stop by the office first. Maybe you'd like to come with me.”

“Sure. I can come by on the way to the airport.” She had every intention of sitting in the first-class lounge with her reading material, having a sandwich quietly, and catching the red-eye.

“We'll talk about that later,” he said discreetly, and then told her to get some sleep and he'd see her in the morning.

And after they hung up, she lay in bed thinking about him. He was a nice man, and had the makings of a good friend, but in a way she felt sorry for him. It was so obvious, even to her, that he had been badly wounded by his wife's betrayal, and eventual desertion. He loved his kids, but there obviously was no longer room in his heart to trust another woman. It was as though Charlotte had destroyed a part of him, and now, eight years later, there was a piece of him still missing. As a result, he couldn't understand the kind of bond she had with Steve, and he was suspicious of it. Thinking of it brought her mind back to Steve again, and she smiled to herself, thinking of how much she missed him, and how happy she would be to see him on Saturday morning. They were lucky, after fourteen years, they still had something very special. And Cal's theory that she didn't love or trust him enough to have children with him seemed like nonsense to her. She drifted off to sleep thinking of Steve, as usual, and her dreams that night were peaceful.

She met Cal the next morning in the lobby at seven thirty, as agreed. They took a short walk around Huntington Park to get some air, and then came back for a cup of coffee. Meredith was surprised at how chilly it was, there was a brisk breeze and a halo of fog still hung over the city. But it felt good to get out for a change, instead of sitting around in stuffy rooms, giving their presentation.

“Ready for the next round?” she asked him as they shared a blueberry muffin.

“All set. What about you? Tired of Dow Tech yet?” He looked energetic and refreshed after a night in his own bed, and he had been happy to see his kids as he left the house to meet Meredith for breakfast.

“Of course I'm not tired of Dow Tech,” she smiled at him, as the waitress poured them each a second cup of coffee. “We still have new worlds to conquer.” But they both knew that San Francisco was going to be easy for them. It was his hometown, and people in San Francisco were familiar with what he had already accomplished in Silicon Valley.

Their first presentation of the day went well, they got a brief break after that, and she got a chance to call her office. And then they went right into lunch, and their next presentation. They had the ritual rubber chicken, and by two thirty they were finished, and everything was packed up. Callan glanced at his watch, and said he thought he might go back to his office, and he invited Meredith to join him.

“I think I might try to catch an earlier flight,” she explained. There was a five o'clock she said she could be on, which would get her home to New York by one o'clock in the morning. And she knew Steve would love it.

But when she called the airline from the hotel, they told her the flight was booked solid. She was stranded till the red-eye. She told Callan she'd wait at the hotel, and do some reading. But he was insistent. He wanted her to come to Palo Alto with him to see the people at his office again, before she left San Francisco. And he wanted her to come to the house, if she had the time, to meet his children.

“You've been gone all week, you'll have plenty to do without having me underfoot,” she insisted.

“I like having you underfoot. Besides, I'm always open to free advice.” He had enormous respect for her opinions, and she knew almost as much about Dow Tech now as he did. He was so proud of his company and family that he was anxious to share both with her. He was so insistent about it that, in the end, it seemed rude not to go with him. She went upstairs and got her bags, and joined him ten minutes later in the lobby. And by three thirty, they were in Palo Alto, everyone in his office seemed pleased to see him, and wanted to know about the road show.

“It's gone off without a hitch so far,” he said with a broad smile, and a glance at Meredith. “Thanks to Mrs. Whitman,” he told his colleagues. Charlie McIntosh had gone home after the lunch at the Fairmont. He wasn't a young man, and he was tired after a solid week of presentations. Meredith would have hated to admit it to Cal, but it was a relief not to have his cantankerous comments and negative opinions to deal with. It had been a strain working with him. And as they sat in Cal's office that afternoon, he commented on it. “I don't know what to do about him, Merrie. I thought he'd be on the bandwagon by now, but he's still mad as hell that I'm taking the company public. He's fundamentally opposed to it, for entirely sincere reasons. But it's counterproductive at this point. But because he feels so strongly about it, he resents the work it's going to represent for him, dealing with analysts, and the SEC, and shareholders. He just plain thinks we're wrong about all this. And he doesn't want anyone looking over his shoulder, not even me at times. He's going to make money on this, but I'm not even sure he cares. He just doesn't want me to do it.”

“Let me talk to him,” Meredith said. She still thought she could bring him around. Charlie hadn't said anything that had hurt them yet, but he hadn't helped them much either.

“I'm not sure that's the right tack,” Cal said cautiously. Charlie's resentment of Meredith had not abated, and he didn't want to aggravate it any further. “Let's wait and see if he calms down, and can make the transition on his own. I really don't want to push him.” Cal had a lot of respect for him, and Charlie had been a friend of Cal's father.

“If he doesn't adjust his attitude,” Meredith warned, “your shareholders may not find him too charming.” She was still worried about it, as Cal was.

“Poor old Charlie,” Cal said, and they went on to other subjects. He showed her a number of reports, and they talked about some new ideas he was developing, and once again, she was impressed by how creative he was, and how far ahead in his thinking. It was an important part of why he was so successful. And at five thirty he looked up at her, as he sat back comfortably in his chair, and asked her a strange question. “Have you ever thought about leaving investment banking, Meredith?” She was extraordinarily good at it, he knew better than anyone, but she also had a profound interest in high-tech business. “You'd be good at the kind of thing I do, and you'd probably make a hell of a lot more money.”

“I do all right,” she said with a shy smile.

“You'd make more here,” Callan Dow said gently. “If you ever decide to make a change, I'd love to hear from you, Merrie. I hope you know that.”

“I'm very flattered. But I'm not going anywhere for the moment.” She and Steve were too tied into New York to think of going anywhere. He had a good job in the trauma unit, and she was married to Wall Street.

“That could be truer than you know,” Callan Dow said. “In an old-guard firm the size of yours, Meredith, how high can you go? You're already a partner, but there are a lot of very old, very solid, very well-entrenched senior partners. You're never going to run the place. They'd never let a woman do that, and you know it.”

“They might someday,” she said calmly. “Times are changing.”

“Times have already changed just about everywhere else. Things are a lot slower moving in investment banking. It's the last bastion of the gentlemen who used to run the world, and still do in some places. I think you've already carved a remarkable spot for yourself, particularly in dealing with high-tech companies for them. But the reality is they're still sending guys like Paul Black out to see clients with you. Those guys still have more power than you do. You do the work, and they get all the glory.” It was something she had thought herself for years, but she didn't want to admit it to him.

“You're a real rabble-rouser, aren't you, Mr. Dow?” She looked at him with a broad grin. “What do you want me to do? Go back and quit? They'd love that.”

“No, I guess I'm just shit-disturbing a little bit. When I see a good thing, I hate not having a piece of the action. We work well together, Meredith. We think alike in a lot of ways. I hate to waste that.”