Page 55 of The First Gentleman

CHAPTER 51

Seabrook, New Hampshire

I carry two hot coffees from the self-serve station in the lobby to our motel room.

Garrett takes his and says, “Let’s review our notes.”

We pull two chairs together, but before we can power up our laptops, Garrett’s phone rings.

The caller ID says Nottingham .

“Eight thirty a.m.? Marcia must be an early riser.”

He answers and puts it on speaker.

“Is this Garrett Wilson?”

I recognize the voice.

It’s Lynn LuBrano, a Barnard grad who’s Marcia’s latest assistant.

“Hi, Lynn,” says Garrett.

“Brea and I are both here. What’s up?”

“Hi, Mr. Wilson. Hold on a sec, I’m going to connect you with Mr. Hamilton.”

“Wait!” says Garrett.

“Where’s Marcia?”

Lynn’s already put us on hold.

Over the first few bars of Nottingham’s hold music, I whisper to Garrett, “Marcia’s boss? Reginald Hamilton, the head of Nottingham Publishing and a half a dozen other media operations?”

Garrett shrugs.

We’ve never met Hamilton.

Neither have most of the people who work for him.

He’s a cranky seventy-five-year-old Brit and a total recluse.

The hold music abruptly stops.

“Hamilton here.”

“Mr. Hamilton, this is Garrett Wilson and Brea Cooke. We work with Marcia Dillion—”

He cuts Garrett off.

“She’s no longer with Nottingham. Now, about your project. We’re pulling the plug.”