"You'll be the first today, honey. How about starting the day right?" I grinned at her and she took it for a sign of encouragement. She came toward me. "Just a deuce," she whispered quickly, "and I'll teach you things you never learned in school."
I stopped, still smiling.
"I'll bet you would."
Mac and Dan had walked a few steps farther on. Mac turned back to me, an annoyed look on his face.
The woman flashed a quick glance at them, then back at me.
"Tell your friends I'll make a special price for all of you.
Five bucks."
I dug into my pocket and came up with a dollar, which I pressed into her hand.
"Some other time.
But I don't think my teachers would approve."
She looked down at the dollar. A glint of humor came into her dark, tired eyes.
"It's guys like you spoil a girl and make it tough for her to go to work."
She ducked into a cafeteria across the street as we turned into the lobby of the new RCA Building in Rockefeller Center.
I was still smiling when we walked into the board room.
Norman sat at the head of the long table, David Woolf on his right and a man whom I had met at the studio – Ernest Hawley, the treasurer – on his left.
Down the table sat our nominees, the two brokerage men, a banker and an accountant.
Dan and Mac took seats on opposite sides of the table, leaving the seat at the end open for me.
I started to sit down. Bernie got to his feet.
"Just a minute, Cord," he said. "This meeting is for directors only." He glowered at me. "Before I'd sit at the same table with you, I’d leave myself."
I pulled a package of cigarettes from my pocket and lit one.
"Then leave," I said quietly. "You won't have anything to do around here after this meeting anyway."
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," McAllister said quickly. "This is no way to conduct an important meeting.
We have many grave problems concerning the future of this company to consider.
We'll settle none of them in an atmosphere of distrust."
"Distrust!" Bernie yelled. "You expect me to trust him?
After the way he stole my company from me behind my own back!"
"The stock was for sale on the open market and I bought it."
"At what price?" he shouted. "First he forces down the market, then he buys up the stock. Below value he gets it.
He don't care how bad he makes the company look while he's doing it.
Then he comes to me and expects me to sell my stock at the same depressed price he paid the others."
I smiled to myself.
The trading was on.
The old man figured the best way to get what he wanted was by attacking me.
Already, the propriety of my presence at the meeting had been forgotten.
"The price I offered was twice what I paid on the open market."
"You made the market."
"I wasn't running the company," I retorted. "You were-and for the last six years, running it at a loss."
He strode around the table.
"And you could do better?"
"If I didn't think so, I wouldn't be putting up better than seven million dollars."
His eyes stared into mine angrily for a moment, then he walked back to his chair and sat down.
He picked up a pencil and tapped it on the table in front of him.
"The regular meeting of the board of directors of the Norman Picture Company, Incorporated, is hereby called to order," he said in a quieter tone of voice. He looked over at his nephew. "David, you will act as secretary until we appoint a new one." The old man continued.
"A quorum is present, and also present by invitation is Mr. Jonas Cord.
Make a note of that, David. Mr. Cord is present by invitation of certain of the directors but over the objection of the President." He stared at me, waiting for me to react to his statement.
I sat there impassively. "We will now proceed to the first order of business, which is the election of officers of the company for the coming year."
I nodded to McAllister.
"Mr. President," he said, "may I suggest that we postpone the election of officers until after you and Mr. Cord have completed discussions regarding the sale of your stock?"
"What makes you think I'm interested in selling my stock?" Bernie asked.
"My faith in the future of this company remains as strong as ever.