“I'll see you when you get back, Merrie…. I love you.”

“I love you too…. I'll call you tonight from Boston.”

He nodded, kissed her again, and a minute later he was gone, in his scrubs and his clogs, off to save the lives that others would attempt to destroy, tilting at windmills.

Meredith slept until eight o'clock, and then got up, made coffee, read the paper, and went to pack her suitcase. She packed for Europe as well, knowing she probably wouldn't have time when she came back to New York with Cal for his road show. They were going to be incredibly busy with all of the New York presentations. This was the most important city for them, and the last one before they headed for Europe. She wanted to have their book completely sold before they left for Europe, and she thought there was a good chance that would happen.

She was finished and packed shortly after noon, and after that she wasn't sure what to do. There wasn't anything she wanted to do alone. And she didn't really feel like going to a museum. In the end, she decided she might as well get to Boston. She could always have dinner with Cal once she got there. It was better than sitting alone in her empty apartment.

She took a cab to LaGuardia at three, caught the four o'clock shuttle, and at six o'clock she walked into the lobby of the Ritz Carlton. She was there even before Cal was. She left a note for him at the desk telling him she'd arrived, and the phone rang in her room promptly at seven.

“You beat me to it! How long have you been here?”

“For about an hour.” She smiled when she heard his voice. He sounded so pleased to hear her. “How was your flight?’’

“Boring. How was your weekend?”

“Relaxing. We just took it easy, and went to the movies.”

“Did you do your laundry?”

“No, Steve did.” She laughed. “He spoils me.”

“I think you're making it all up. No guy in the world is this good … cooking … laundry … saving lives … the rest of us look like total slobs compared to him, Meredith. I think I'm beginning to hate him.”

“I'm pretty lucky,” she smiled. ‘‘ How was your weekend with the kids?”

“Fun. We played tennis on Saturday, and after that, Andy and I played golf.”

“I have the perfect husband, but you are the perfect father.” Although she knew Steve would probably have been perfect at that, too, if she'd ever wanted to let him try it, which she still didn't.

“And you are the perfect woman,” he said in a tone that made her blush, but she knew he was just kidding. Even on their travels, he had never attempted to be more than a friend to her, and she respected him for it.

“No. Just the perfect investment banker, I hope.”

“Super Woman. How about having dinner with me?”

“That sounds good.” It was actually why she had come up early. And they agreed to meet half an hour later in the lobby and find a place where they could eat pasta or pizza. Neither of them wanted to get dressed, or have an elaborate dinner.

“Do you mind if I wear jeans?” he asked, and she sounded relieved when she answered.

“I'd love that.” She had traveled in a little cotton dress and sandals, and she figured that was good enough if they were just going out for pizza.

But when she met him in the lobby, he still looked like an ad in GQ. He was wearing jeans, and a clean white shirt, with the sleeves rolled up, his well-polished loafers, and he was carrying a blazer over his shoulder.

“That's cheating,” she scolded him, as he looked her over admiringly. She looked fresh and young and pretty.

“What is?”

“You look much too good to just go out for pizza. Do you ever just wear a T-shirt or look a mess?” She couldn't imagine it, but he couldn't imagine her that way either.

“When was the last time you looked a mess, Meredith? In first grade maybe … or before that?” She laughed at the backhanded compliment, and they walked out of the hotel, laughing and talking, like the friends they were rapidly becoming.

They found a little Italian restaurant a few blocks away, and they spent the rest of the evening deeply engrossed in conversation about the investment banking business. He was fascinated by what she did, and intrigued to discover how much she liked it. But at the same time, she seemed to have a considerable grasp of the intricacies of his business. And they batted information and opinions back and forth all night like tennis pros at Wimbledon. They were the last people to leave the restaurant, and they hated to end their conversation, but they both needed to get some sleep before their presentation the next morning.

Meredith knew that Charlie McIntosh, Callan's CFO, had flown in from San Francisco that night too, but his flight hadn't been due in until midnight. They both hoped he would warm up in Boston and New York, and for the last leg of the trip in Europe.

“I had a long talk with him on the phone last night,” Cal told her as they rode up in the elevator. “I told him he really has to put more life into his presentations. I hope he got it, and realizes that I mean it,” Cal said, sounding unconvinced. He was beginning to see just how intractable Charlie was, and how unlikely to improve his attitude in the near future. Even on the phone the night before, he had criticized Callan for taking the company public. He was like a dog with a bone, and he just wasn't letting go of it, no matter how ardently Callan urged him to drop it. Callan was beginning to fear that his attitude was going to cause a permanent rift between them. And he said as much to Meredith as he walked her down the hall to her room, and she nodded as she listened.

“These things are hard to predict sometimes. Maybe once it's done, he'll do an about-face and surprise you. Maybe he'll finally see that you've done a great thing for your company, and not a bad one. You can use your stock to acquire other companies eventually. I think that might be something that could appeal to him.”

“I think too much growth too rapidly is part of what scares him,” Cal said thoughtfully, and Meredith looked pensive. Charlie was definitely a knotty problem.

They continued to talk about it, and a few minutes later, he left her and promised to meet her for breakfast with Charlie McIntosh the next morning. Meredith had promised to do everything but seduce him to win him over.

She had two messages from Steve when she got back to the room, and when she called him back, for once the nurse who answered the phone was able to find him. He said it had been a quiet night, it was still raining in New York, and everyone seemed to be staying home and out of trouble.

“Maybe you can get some sleep for a change,” she said with a smile, still thinking of the night they had spent together the night before, and their lovemaking when she got back on Saturday morning. It already felt like an eternity since she had seen him. Their days and nights were so full that it seemed to create too much time and space between them.

“You try and get some sleep too. These people keep you out till all hours, and then expect you to be Dinah Shore and sing your heart out for them the next morning.”

“That's what I get paid for. I'll be home tomorrow night, sweetheart.” At least she could sleep in her own bed for once, but unfortunately Steve wouldn't be there. He'd be sleeping on a rollaway bed in his office until they called him.

“I'll call you,” he promised, thinking that in the old days, she had gone to see him at the hospital sometimes, but they both knew there was no point now. Whenever she tried to do it nowadays, he was always too busy to see her, and it ended up just being frustrating and annoying. It was easier just talking to her when he had a break, and he could find her.

She stayed up reading late that night, brushing up on their presentation again. There were a few things she wanted to change in her brief introduction of Cal, and she had some suggestions about Charlie Macintosh's presentation.

But when she shared her thoughts with Charlie at breakfast with him and Cal the next day, he got enraged the moment she made the suggestions to him. What she was offering wasn't criticism, but simple ways to improve the way he presented Dow Tech to their potential investors.

“I'm not sure you understand what I'm trying to say,” she explained patiently, trying to turn it around another way, so he wouldn't resist as much and would get it. But he was incredibly defensive, and openly hostile to her.

“I understand perfectly. You think you're so goddamn smart, Miss Hot Shot Investment Banker from Wall Street. Well let me tell you, I don't agree with a damn thing you've said in the last ten minutes, or in the last ten weeks for that matter. This whole thing is a huge mistake, and you people have Cal's head so turned around, he's dazzled by the dollar signs, and he doesn't know his ass from his elbow.” In spite of herself, Meredith looked shocked not only by what he said, but by the disrespectful way he had said it. He had managed to insult both of them in one breath, and she could see that Callan hadn't liked it either.

“Maybe if you stop fighting the fact that the company is going public, Mr. McIntosh, you could figure out the best way to help us do it. Because it's going to go public, whether you like it or not. That's what Callan wants, and what he's going to get from us. Now, you can be part of it, or you can sit there like a rock and refuse to cooperate, but if you do, I assure you that the river is still going to go around you. You're not going to stop it at this point.”

He looked startled by what she said, and the force with which she said it to him. And Callan looked like a storm cloud as he paid the check and finished his coffee. All he said as they left the restaurant was that he wanted to meet with McIntosh after the presentation, and she could imagine what that meant. He was going to give him a dressing down second to none, and maybe even threaten his job if he had to. But this was no time for Charlie to be threatening mutiny, or insulting their investment bankers.