The Groaning Board Read Online Free PDF Page B

pinstripe-and-white-shirt uniform of the financial world. The heads
all swiveled. Wetzon was on display for a brief moment before the heads all
swiveled back to Laura Lee.
    “Sit yourself down right here.” Laura
Lee patted the banquette she sat on and slid over.
    The crowd parted for Leslie Wetzon,
the thin blonde with the long neck and topknot, ex-Broadway chorus dancer in
costume of Wall Street headhunter. Everyone dispersed except for, luckily, one
waiter, who looked expectant.
    “Amstel Light,” Wetzon said. She
twitched her nose and pointed two fingers at him. The waiter disappeared.
    Laura Lee rolled her eyes.
“Practicin’ witchcraft?”
    “I find it’s good to keep trying new
things after the age of forty. Helps one stay young and full of beans.”
    “I can attest to that,” Laura Lee
said. She took a sip of white wine. “How’s the renovation cornin’?”
    “Don’t ask. They knock things down,
break through Walls, then go away for days—to work another job, I’m sure. I
just wish Louie had been able to handle it.”
    “Why couldn’t she?”
    “A S0H0 gallery offered her a show.
She needed the time t0 put it together.”
    “But a show, my, that’s grand. Are
you lendin’ your paintin’?”
    “If she wants it.”
    “And how is your dear partner?” She
pronounced it dee-ah.
    Wetzon look askance at her friend.
Why wasn’t she coming directly to the point? Laura Lee didn’t care a hoot about
Smith. “In her prime, thank you. She’s — would you believe — talking with Mort
Hornberg about producing TV specials.”
    “Give me a break,” Laura Lee said.
    “The one on Combinations was a
blockbuster...”
    “Is the grand Xenia givin’ up huntin’
heads?”
    “No way. We’ve got Darlene Ford, the
Sammy Glick of headhunters, practically running the business out from under
    33
    US.
    The waiter set the beer, foaming in a
tall glass, in front of Wetzon.
    “Do you mind?” Laura Lee asked
Wetzon. “About Darlene and the business?”
    “Sometimes. But I’d rather have her
working for us than for Tom Keegen. I’m just waiting for her to lock horns with
the mighty Smith. It’ll be bloody, mind you.”
    “Why, Wetzon darlin’, if I didn’t
know better I’d think you were looking forward to it.”
    “Moi?” Wetzon grinned at her and took a swallow of
beer. “Truth is, I wouldn’t mind making a few waves. Recruiting is dull right
now. The whole business has changed. Clients merged with nonclients. Happy
hunting ground go bye-bye. And all these new pension plans the firms have instituted
are nothing but golden handcuffs. No one is moving.”
    “I hear that the big upfront deals
are dryin’ up,” Laura Lee said.
    “It’s a real drought. A manager
actually told me he was happy about it because now brokers would join his firm
for its quality without the bribe of money.”
    “You’re joking. He actually said
that?”
    “I swear, Laura Lee. Any fool knows
that no one would consider going anywhere without a deal. He thinks his firm is
so special, wait till he sees he can’t recruit.”
    “Tsk, tsk. Your account is up
thirty-five percent so far this year. You can always rest on your laurels.”
    “What and leave show business?”
    They laughed, clicked their glasses,
then studied each other. Wetzon was unwilling to ask the first question.
    “Did you see Fabio when you came up
the stairs?” Laura Lee ran her tongue around her full lips.
    “Yes. He’s so weird-looking.”
    “It’s the bod, darlin’, the bod.”
    Wetzon shook her head. “Not my type.”
    “Speaking of your type...“
    “He’s fine, though I haven’t seen him
since yesterday morning. He’s working on some special case.”
    “So...“ Laura Lee said. She looked
past Wetzon in the direction of Fabio.
    She’s stalling, Wetzon realized. Then
she thought, no, she’s waiting for someone. Wetzon took another sip of beer and
rose. “Well, it’s been fun, but I have to run along now.” Laura Lee jumped