“What are you up to today?”

“I don't know. I'm off as of nine this morning. It's three now. But it's so boring when you're not here to play with.”

“I'll be home next week, and we can play all weekend.”

“I can't wait to see you.” He was lonelier than usual, and for some reason, he seemed restless to her. Maybe he really was jealous and unnerved by her traveling around with Callan. She was almost sorry she'd told him they'd gone dancing, but she never lied to him. And he knew that about her. “Have fun shopping today. Call me when you get back to the hotel.”

“I will,” she promised, and she meant it. But as it turned out, she and Callan dragged around the shops until six o'clock, and then rushed back to change for dinner and the theater.

They went to Rule's, and sat upstairs in a private room, and then dashed off to see a new production of Romeo and Juliet, and thoroughly enjoyed it. They went to Mark's Club, which he was a member of, for drinks afterward, and by the time she got home, she was too tired to call him.

She called Steve on Sunday afternoon before she left for Heathrow, but he was out, and she tried again when she got to Geneva, but by then he was working. So she gave up and had dinner with Callan and Charlie McIntosh, went to bed early, and the next morning they made their presentation to the Swiss investors. Charlie was in a much better mood than he'd been, and was actually civil to Meredith after the meeting. And Callan was pleased to see it.

And at four o'clock, they were on a plane to Paris, and all three were surprisingly congenial on the trip, which led Meredith to hope that Charlie had finally begun to understand the wisdom of what they were doing. And his benevolence toward her had been considerably enhanced by two martinis on the flight to Paris.

They were at the Ritz by dinnertime, and before Meredith could say a word, Callan informed her that he had made reservations at the Tour d'Argent for them. Charlie had other plans, and she put on the only other dinner dress she'd brought, a pale green silk the color of her eyes, and when she appeared in the bar at the Ritz, a number of heads turned, and Callan beamed at her.

“You look smashing, Meredith!” he said, without hesitation.

“Thank you.”

Dinner was predictably fabulous, and they spent most of the evening talking business, despite the sumptuous meal and the elegant surroundings. She wanted to prepare him for their presentation in the morning. The French weren't always easy, but news of their offering had already reached the important French investors, and they were as anxious to get on Callan's bandwagon as everyone else. Meredith didn't think they'd have any problems with the French.

The car brought them back to the hotel, and she and Callan walked slowly around the Place Vendôme, to get some air. It was mid-September by then, and a beautiful, balmy evening. And as they walked back to the hotel, she felt chilly in the thin dress, and Callan put his jacket over her shoulders. It smelled of his cologne, and they looked like a happy couple as they chatted and laughed and glanced into the jewelers’ windows. It had been a very pleasant evening. And after their presentation the next day, they were spending one last night in Paris, and then flying back to New York early on Wednesday, in time for their final meeting with her partners, about the pricing of the stock. The stock would be traded the next day, the syndicate would dissolve as soon as all the stock was sold, and his work with Meredith would be over. He seemed to feel almost nostalgic about it as they walked slowly back to the hotel across the most elegant square in Paris.

“What am I going to do without you to talk to every day, Meredith? I'm going to have withdrawals.”

“No, you won't, you'll be too busy worrying about your shareholders and what they want to even think about me.”

“I feel like I'm being pushed out of the nest to fly on my own now,” he said, as they walked past Boucheron and Meredith admired an enormous emerald necklace.

“You did fine without me before you met me,” she said confidently, and then she laughed, pulling his jacket a little tighter around her. “Besides, you have Charlie to talk to.”

“That's a frightening thought,” Callan said, looking more handsome than ever in a white shirt, and dark blue tie. He always looked impeccable, and had an enormous amount of style. He looked like more of a clothes horse sometimes than the head of a successful high-tech venture in Silicon Valley. It made her think of Charlotte and what a handsome couple they must have been years before. He seemed like the right kind of man for a very beautiful, glamorous woman, and there was something very pleasant about being seen with him. People always looked at them when they were out together. “Anyway, my dear, I'm going to miss you.”

“You can call me for free advice anytime you have a problem.”

“If I can even find you. If you're not away or too busy to return my calls,” he said wistfully. He actually looked sad about it, as she smiled at him.

“My office always knows where to find me,” she reassured him, as they walked up the steps of the Ritz and into the lobby.

They passed down the long corridor of vitrines full of jewelry and gifts, and he left her at her room, with a look of regret, as she handed him back his jacket. It had been another lovely evening, and she had agreed to dine at Lucas Carton with him the next day, but she was charging that one to the firm. He had picked up the tab at the Tour d'Argent, as he had at Harry's Bar, and both had been pretty impressive. He liked dining in fashionable four-star restaurants, and he didn't mind paying for it himself, even when he didn't have to.

They met again the next day, with Charlie McIntosh, and made their final presentations. And the French were as anxious to invest in Dow Tech as everyone else had been, right from the beginning. Their results for Callan had been beyond what her wildest hopes for him had been, and far better than their analysts had predicted. They were going to make an impressive entry onto the scene when the stock was first traded on Thursday. And the tombstone in The Wall Street Journal, announcing who had underwritten the deal, was going to be full of impressive names. She had explained to Cal that there were going to be “majors out of order,” which meant that some of the big firms had agreed to take less stock and were willing to appear beneath the names of the smaller firms specializing in high-tech issues. It was the sign of a very hot deal, and would be very prestigious for them. It was yet another goal she had accomplished for him.

By the time they got back to the hotel at five o'clock, it was clear that they were entitled to a victory celebration. At that precise moment, their due diligence tour was officially over. It had succeeded beyond everything she'd hoped for him, and even Charlie McIntosh was smiling. Although he still didn't agree with what Cal had done, officially, he had to concede a job well done and thoroughly accomplished. He even commented to Cal that Meredith was an extraordinarily competent woman. And Charlie shook hands with her and congratulated her on how well they had succeeded. He had to leave them a few minutes later, as he was catching an eight o'clock flight that night, back to California. Cal was flying to New York with her the next day, for the final meeting with her partners at her office. And they were hoping to hear that their prospectus had been approved by the SEC by then.

She wore a simple black suit to their dinner at Lucas Carton that night, and it was a leisurely evening, and an extraordinary meal. He said he had talked to his children, and they were fine, but anxious for him to come home.

“So is Steve,” she said over coffee and brandy. “We've done a damn good job though.” She looked pleased, and happy for him. She loved what she did, and it had been fun traveling with him. She had enjoyed him more than most of her clients. They worked well together, and seemed to have a lot in common. They shared a number of views about the financial world, and she had always been excited about the high-tech companies she worked with. She had pretty much specialized in them for the past five years, and she knew her stuff, which had vastly impressed Callan. He'd been warned that he might have to do a lot of educating with the investment banking firm he chose. But she had actually educated him about the entire IPO process, and the investment banking world, and he admired her for it.

“So where to from here?” he asked her, as they sipped their brandy.

“The next public offering that comes my way. Same old game. And you? What are you going to do now for excitement?” she teased him. They had a great camaraderie between them. But she had a fairly good idea what he was going to do next. He had already talked to her about a whole new range of high-tech surgical products that he wanted to develop.

“Actually, I'm thinking about acquiring another company,” he confessed. “Give me a couple of years, and Dow Tech will be ten times the size it is today.” He was counting on it, and planning to work toward that.

“I'd love that,” she smiled. They chatted about it for a while, he hadn't mentioned new acquisitions to her before. He was full of good ideas, and he wanted to strive for new horizons. He wasn't a man who rested on his laurels, and she liked that about him. She wasn't one to do that either. They were both ambitious in a very similar fashion.

They were still talking about his ideas when they went back to the hotel, and sat in the bar for a little while. He had another brandy, but she only sat with him. She didn't want to have a headache when they flew to New York the next day.