Page 19 of Insidious Threats

Six wasn’t too bad. It could be a heck of a lot worse.

“How’s the market?”

Raquel’s voice dropped. “He’s lost a lot, but he doesn’t know yet. If you have to deliver bad news, I’d suggest doing it now. Before he checks in with the financial team.”

Amanda nodded. “Thanks, Raquel. Put me through to him, okay?”

“You got it. Hey, by the way, thanks for the shoes. They’re so cute.”

“I’m glad you like them. I ran into Manolo at that Luminaries of the Future symposium Leith and I went to in the U.K. last month, and he specifically suggested that pair for you.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet. He has the best taste.”

He’d better. Those bejeweled ballerina flats had set Amanda back more than a thousand pounds. But currying favor with Raquel was worth it at any price.

“Can’t wait to see you wearing them,” she cooed.

“I’ll snap you a pic. Okay, hold for Leith.”

“ATJ?” Leith was out of breath.

“Did I catch you on the bike?”

“Yes. But I can talk. I have the lung capacity of a twenty-two-year-old man.”

“That’s phenomenal. When’s your next longevity assessment? I bet your overall age has dropped since last time.”

“Just had it, and it did.”

She could hear the triumph in his voice. She wasn’t sure why he was chasing immortality, but maybe he figured living forever was the only way he could spend all his money. Even then, it’d be a challenge.

“Fantastic.”

“How’d it go in Pittsburgh?”

He was distracted by his workout, happy about his longevity score, and didn’t yet know that he’d lost a small fortune. It was now or never. She squared her shoulders and plunged ahead.

“I’m still here. The meeting with the ADR neutral didn’t go as well as I would have liked. Home cooking, you know how it—”

“No excuses.”

“Of course. Never. I’m not making an excuse, Leith. I’m explaining where we are.”

“And where are we?” he huffed. Whether from exertion or irritation, she couldn’t tell.

The cardinal rule with Leith was to deliver the bad news first. Unlike most people, softening him up with the good news first was guaranteed to backfire.

She padded over to the window and looked out over the downtown skyline as she explained, “The neutral ordered the station to pay Ms. Farley in full. Tomorrow.”

“You’re useless.”

“Not quite,” she countered. “I did convince him to deny the request for discovery into your personal financials.”

In response, he grunted.

You’re welcome,she thought. What she said was, “WACB has the money in an escrow account, so they’ll handle the transfer. We don’t need to involve ourselves.”

“Remind me why I bought all these local television stations?”