Before I Say Good-Bye Read Online Free PDF Page B

please. Surely you can come after the meeting. It’s okay if you’re late. Just make an appearance.”
    “Make an appearance? Campaign language is starting already. Sorry, Nell.” In quick strides he headed for the foyer.
    “Then, damn it, maybe you should skip coming home at all.”
    Adam stopped and turned to face her. “Nell, I hope you don’t mean that.”
    They stared at each other in silence for a long moment, and then he was gone.

six
    S AM K RAUSE’S NEWEST GIRLFRIEND, Dina Crane, was not at all happy when he called on Friday morning to cancel their date that evening.
    “I could meet you at Harry’s Bar when you finish,” she suggested.
    “Look, this is business and I don’t know how long it will take,” he said brusquely. “We’ve got a lot of stuff to go over. I’ll call you Saturday.”
    He hung up without giving Dina a chance to say anything more. He was seated in his private office at Third Avenue and Fortieth Street, a large, airy corner room, with walls covered by artists’ renderings of the skyscrapers built by the Sam Krause Construction Company.
    It was only ten o’clock, and his already edgy mood had been exacerbated by a call from the district attorney’s office requesting a meeting with him.
    He got up and walked to the window, where he stood staring sullenly at the street activity sixteen stories below. He watched a car skillfully weave through the choking traffic, and then smiled grimly as the car became boxed in behind a truck that had stopped suddenly, blocking two lanes.
    The smile vanished, though, as Sam realized that in a way he was like that car. He had sidestepped a number of obstacles to get to this point in his life, and now a major hurdle was being thrown in his path, threatening to block it completely. For the first time since he was a teenager, he found himself suddenly vulnerable for prosecution.
    He was a fifty-year-old, large-boned man of average height, with weathered skin and thinning hair, and an independent nature. He had never bothered to give much thought to his appearance. What made him attractive to women was his air of absolute self-confidence, along with the cynical intelligence reflectedin his slate-gray eyes. Some people respected him. Many more were afraid of him. A very few liked him. For all of them, Sam felt amused contempt.
    The phone rang, followed by a buzz on the intercom from his secretary. “Mr. Lang,” she announced.
    Sam grimaced. Lang Enterprises was the third factor in the Vandermeer Tower venture. His feelings about Peter Lang ranged from envy, over the fact that he was the product of family wealth, to grudging admiration of his seeming genius at optioning apparently worthless properties that turned out to be real estate gold mines.
    He crossed to his desk and picked up the receiver: “Yeah, Peter? Thought you’d be on the golf course.”
    Peter was in fact calling from his father’s waterfront estate in Southampton, which he had inherited. “I am, as a matter of fact. Just wanted to make sure the meeting is still on.”
    “It is,” Sam told him, and replaced the receiver without saying good-bye.

seven
    N ELL’S NEWSPAPER COLUMN, called “All Around the Town,” ran three times a week in the New York Journal. It contained a potpourri of comments on what was going on in New York City, its subjects ranging from the arts to politics, and from celebrity events to human-interest features. She had started writing it two years ago, when Mac retired and she had declined BobGorman’s request that she stay on to run the New York congressional office.
    Mike Stuart, the publisher of the Journal and a longtime friend to both Nell and Mac, had been the one to suggest the column.
    “With all the letters you’ve written to the op-ed page, you’ve virtually been working for us for free, Nell,” he had told her. “You’re a damn good writer, and smart too. Why not have a try at getting paid for your opinions for a change?”
    This column is