A Key to the Suite Read Online Free PDF Page B

considerate time to tell me whether or not you’re coming home for lunch.”
    “Honey, I told you I can’t be home for lunch
or
dinner, not while the convention is going on.”
    “You may think you told me but you didn’t.”
    “Honestly, honey, I don’t like this any better than you do, but I swear I don’t have any idea when I’ll be able to get home tonight.”
    “Oh, I knew so damn well that if that Jesse Mulaney came down, I wouldn’t see you at all.”
    “Now baby …”
    “Don’t give me that now baby stuff, Frederick. It doesn’t do any good. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I know you’re damn glad to get away from me. You couldn’t wait to get out of the house this morning, could you?”
    “Honey, I’ve got a lot of responsibilities here. I got to see that the AGM part of this thing runs smooth, or that brass that comes down is going to think Fred Frick is a bum.”
    “The cat has been throwing up again.”
    “I’m sorry to hear that, honey.”
    “I’ve been cleaning up after him all morning.”
    “That’s a shame.”
    “If you ever happen to think of it, and you’re not too drunk, call me up again some time and say hello.” She hung up so strenuously the noise made him flinch.
    He tried 847 again. He was so convinced there would be no answer that when Hubbard said, “Hello?” it caught him off balance.
    “Oh … uh … Mr. Hubbard? This is Fred Frick. We’ve never met, but …”
    “Mr. Frick. Of course.”
    “Glad you could make it. I guess you got in real early.”
    “Earlier than I wanted to. But all they could do for me onanything later was put me on standby. So I decided at the last minute to play it safe and take a night coach.”
    “Is your room okay?”
    “Fine. Fine.”
    “What I did, I signed you in for the convention and left the badge and stuff at the desk for you. I can phone down and have them shoot it right up to …”
    “Thanks. I’ll pick it up when I go down there.”
    “As you probably know already, Mr. Hubbard, this thing doesn’t officially get off the ground until the opening banquet tonight in the Arabian Room at eight o’clock. I’d like to ask you to have lunch with me, but I’ve got to go out to the airport to meet Jesse and Mrs. Mulaney. Would you want to go out there with me?”
    “I guess I’ll wait until they get settled in. I think that would be better.”
    “Anything you say. What I was thinking, some of my boys are getting the AGM hospitality suite in shape, and if you’re not doing anything else, I could stop by in say five minutes and take you down to the suite and introduce you to some of the boys, and we could have a little drink maybe.”
    “That’s very kind of you, Mr. Frick. Five minutes?”
    “Right.”
    Frick called the suite. Bobby wasn’t there. Les Lewis said he was due back any minute and, yes, the suite was shaping up, and they could fix a drink. Frick explained the situation.
    When he rapped at the door of 847, Hubbard opened it immediately, smiled, shook hands, came out into the hall and checked the door to be sure it had locked. Fred Frick felt slightly off balance. Hubbard was not the type he had anticipated. He was a stocky man, with considerable breadth of shoulder, and alook of toughness of body, of a resilient fitness. His black hair was cropped to a length which left just enough to comb and part. His lightweight suit, though obviously tailored to fit him very well, looked as if it was not the sort of thing he would ordinarily wear. He had big hands, a hard thrust of jaw, black and bushy brows, a nose slightly misshapen from some old breakage, a friendly grin, warm, brown, direct eyes. He gave Frick an impression of uncomplicated honesty. Frick knew the type. This man was some kind of technician. He would be more comfortable in coveralls. The hatchet men were cooler types, reserved, watchful, chronically skeptical.
    As they walked toward the suite, Frick said, “Have you been to many of this