Part Six
Clark stepped out of the elevator and into the newsroom at 5:00am He had departed only three hours earlier. But after taking a shower, eating a leisurely breakfast and putting on one of his newly purchased suits with shirt and a colorful tie, he returned to the Daily Planet. There were too many tasks to do this morning that required his complete concentration. Early morning chatter from bullpen colleagues would only serve as a distraction. In preparation for the interview with Arianna Luthor, he needed to do background research in order to have a list of questions that would elevate the interview above the level of ‘puff piece’.
His partner had been anticipating and preparing for long months which questions to ask the fabulous couple. Now
he was the lead reporter and they would only be talking to half of the duo. The last thing he wanted to look like in front of either woman was a ‘wet-behind-the-ears’ rookie.
Lois.
It was painfully evident to everyone of how deeply disappointed she was that Clark had been granted the interview rather than her. Her sumptuous evening gown and jewelry which earlier, made her look so elegant, now seemed to swallow her up, as if she were a little girl wearing her Mommy’s clothes. He imagined the dismissive comments from Daae hurt her on a deeper level than just professionally. The cab ride back to the Planet with Jack in between them was very quiet and tense, he attempted several times to cheer her up, but all efforts were met with stony silence - which in Clark’s mind was far more dangerous than her normal edginess.
To add insult to injury, Catherine had mentioned to Perry about Clark ‘chance encounter’ with Arianna which resulted in him and Lois landing an interview with her. When they arrived at the newsroom Perry and several others were effusive in their praise. In their minds, Clark was the hero of the hour.
Lois took the lead on the White Orchid Ball article; she wrote with stoic efficiency and quietly tolerated it when Clark corrected her grammar and spelling. She put up with Clark adding his part of the account of the party, including the announcement of the limited partnership between DMG and LexCorp and the creation of a 24/7 channel about the construction of the space station.
Nonetheless the boxing gloves in the article were revealed when both Lex and Daae’s comments were included and as a jab at both men she mentioned the arrogance of bottling up the eighty percent of the construction story about the space station to only two companies. Albeit, the other news and media outlets had access as well, but LNN/DMG would in this particular instance always have the breaking news first.
Once Perry had quickly included their story into the morning edition, Lois shut down her computer and departed immediately without saying good night to anyone. Clark could feel the bitter fury radiating off her body like turbulent ocean waves crashing against a jagged shore during a raging storm.
The early morning hours flew by, reporters and other staffers made their appearances, Clark was still at his desk. Perry arrived around 8:00, looking rested and refreshed despite getting only a few hours of rest. He had slung his jacket over his shoulder, it was late spring in Metropolis and the weather already was promising to be quite warm.
The chief came over to his desk and said, “Lois is mad at you now son, but she’ll come around – give her a few hours.”
“Chief, She’s angry with me for getting an interview she’s wanted for months, but there has to be more to it than that. Whenever it appears like I have an edge on her she treats me as if I were someone else.”
Perry folded his arms across his chest and became quiet. “Does the name Claude Debarre sound familiar?”
He nodded and then frowned. “From the water-cooler gossip around the bullpen, he was a former staffer who was fired for plagiarizing a story. But I never asked for the details.”
Realization about Clark’s ignorance spread over the older man’s face. “Well, no one could ever accuse Elvis of stealin’ a song! But that’s exactly what that low down skunk did. He didn’t just steal any story, but Lois’ story. It was an exceptional article for a seasoned journalist, but coming from a rookie like Lois it was amazing. I didn’t find out about it until it was too late.” Perry paused and then said, “He
romanced the story away from her, which you can imagine hurt deeply.”
Understanding washed over Clark. Of course she would be defensive! He would take pains to be supportive regarding her feelings about this particular interview. He appreciated, and what was most important, respected Lois’ ability as a journalist.
“Don’t worry sir, this story will be a cooperative effort on both our parts.”
“Thanks Kent, I knew I could count on you.” The Managing Editor clapped him on the back and walked over to his office, ready for another day in the beloved bullpen.
The corners of Clark’s mouth tugged into a thoughtful smile at the words of encouragement and this new knowledge about his partner. It gave him reason to hope the day would be a peaceful one. Carefully, he rolled up the sleeves of his new white dress shirt and stuck a pencil jauntily behind his ear. He was deep in thought, preparing insightful questions for his interview with Mrs. Luthor. He was considering how to frame the question about the donation of funds from the sale of some of Lex’s prize Picassos, when the elevator doors opened and Lois appeared.
He knew by her heartbeat that she was uneasy, Daae’s remarks towards her really stung. He didn’t doubt that some of their competitors from other news organizations had made a few backhanded comments as well. Over the years, Lois had scooped a good many reporters in Metropolis, if they could land an unflattering shot back at her, the more unprofessional ones would do so. When she was upset or angry Lois had certain defense mechanisms in place; chocolate, a waspish tongue and dressing her absolute best. Today she wore a chic navy pants suit, looking regal, hot as hell and ready for combat from all comers. She pounded down the steps took off the jacket to reveal a sleeveless peach blouse that showed off her perfectly sculptured arms.
Surreptiously he watched Lois as with alacrity she went through the movements of starting her early morning ritual. But today, the movements were not easy and familiar, but crisp, precise and sharp. Lois Lane was geared up for battle indeed, like Eisenhower prepared for Normandy.
With a sinking feeling Clark knew the beach she intended to storm was called Kent, not Omaha. Perhaps he could make the first steps towards a peace offering. He went up to the coffee station; prepared a steaming cup just the way she liked it along with a fresh, still warm from the bakery, mocha chip muffin. He brought them down to her desk and stood over her.
Lois turned away from her monitor and looked at him out of the corner of her eye, then stared down at the delectable muffin, clearly avoiding his gaze. In chilly tones she said, “Thank you, Mr. Kent. Put it down on my desk.” Without another word, she continued to study the words on the monitor.
Hurt, Clark did as he was bid and went back to his desk.
Studiously, they paid no attention to each other for the rest of the morning.
***
A few hours later, Lana stepped out of the elevator, wearing a lovely red dress that was cut perfectly for her petite frame. Several men in the newsroom looked on with approval, some even said greetings. But the female staffers turned away. Lana was not a favorite among them. Acknowledging the men and ignoring everyone else, she charged down the ramp and into the newsroom and went straight to Clark.
Jack, mixing up his morning cup of coffee, noticed her and said to Stacy, “Doesn’t she have a job?”
Stacy looked at him, shrugged and said, “She still does work with her Father at the museum. You know, helping him put together that Napoleon Bonaparte exhibit. From what I understand it’s going to be quite an evening when the tableaus depicting scenes from his life are revealed to the public. Even the governor will be there.”
“Oh yeah, how did you find out all this stuff? Been listening to the bullpen gossip?”
“No, because I listen to conversations and put together the information, but I don’t say anything to anyone until it’s confirmed. Maybe you should read
more than just the sports section. Look under
Arts and Leisure in the Daily Planet’s Weekend section.”
Jack, completely embarrassed, shifted the conversation back to Lana.
“Speaking of observation. Do you ever notice how she
always shows up for lunch after Clark has an assignment with Lois?” He remarked sarcastically.
“Hmmm, you’re right. Wonder what
that’s all about?” Stacy adjusted her glasses and cautiously watched the modern tableau before her. “Right now, I don’t think Ms. Lane and Mr. Kent are on speaking terms…”
***
“Clark,” the overly sweet voice drawled, as she sat down in the visitor’s chair, “I waited up for your call last night. I wanted to hear all the details of the White Orchid Ball. Plus mother might have found the perfect couch for my place. If it fits, I’ll need your help getting it inside.”
Lois watched as her erstwhile partner, who spoke with such fluid confidence with Arianna Luthor - the beloved
doyenne of Metropolis society became a mouse in front of the petite blonde dynamo.
“Hey Lana, that’s great about the couch. Sorry, now is not the time, I’m really busy … maybe we can catch up later?”
But the blonde continued as if she never heard him. “The news was full of Mr. Daae and Lex Luthor’s announcement this morning. Daddy told me all about the article you and
your partner wrote up. Imagine LexCorp and Mr. Daae’s company pulling off such a coup!” Her eyes fairly danced with excitement as she spoke. “They say Lex Luthor is exceptionally skillful at business matters, but Gregory Daae, word around my office is he’s something of a roguish scoundrel! Why don’t we talk about it over lunch?”
“Lunch?” Lois said from her desk, “It’s only 11:30.”
Lana turned and gave Lois an appraising look, then shrugged. “Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m hungry … now. Oh, The Metropolis Star mentioned Gregory Daae’s comments about your being amateurish. I think he and Linda King got it right. Why put such a powerful man on the spot like that!”
Lois fairly bristled at the words and was about to fire back an answer when Clark stood and spoke, eager to defuse a potentially dangerous situation. “Lana, I have a lot of prep work to do for an upcoming assignment. Why don’t we have dinner tonight?”
His girlfriend’s expression was not a happy one. “But you promised to tell me everything that happened. Imagine talking to Swiss media mogul Gregory Daae and even the governor. I can just imagine all the international, corporate and political networking that took place. I should have been your date.”
Lois returned to the file she had been studying. Being involved in a conversation with Lana Lang for any reason was a waste of time. Besides, listening to the haughty edge of Lana’s voice ordering Clark around was more than she could tolerate.
“I’m sorry, but it’s impossible to step away.” Clark stood up, took her by the elbow and gently, but firmly, led her up the ramp and to the elevator doors. “Listen, I promise, we will talk about everything over dinner. We can go to Callard’s.”
She looked up at him, blinked inquisitive blue eyes and said, “Are you
sure we can’t go to lunch?”
At that moment the elevator door opened and Perry stepped out, from the look on his face he had probably just come from upstairs and his weekly meeting with the ‘suits’. His expression brightened somewhat when he saw Clark. “Kent! Exactly the person I wanted to see!” He looked over at Lana and nodded to her “Good Morning Ms. Lang. What brings you to the newsroom?”
“My boyfriend of course,” she said this while twining her arm around his waist, “he’s taking me to lunch.”
Clark winced and said, “Lana,” with a touch of panic in his voice.
Perry noticed the pained expression on the young man’s face and quickly sized up the situation.
“Uh… son, we really need to talk about this interview. Mr. Olsen is a good friend of Mrs. Luthor’s, so he’ll be watching very closely. An important interview like this could be a career changer.”
He nodded and turned to Lana whose expression had altered considerably. “Mr. White, are you saying
my boyfriend is going to interview Lex Luthor’s
wife?” She turned to Clark, her eyes flashing, “Honey, you do whatever it takes to prepare! Tell me all about it tonight! I’m so proud of you!”
After pushing the elevator button, the doors snapped open and Lana gracefully stepped inside. “Bye Clark, meet me at Callard’s … six o’clock sharp!”
Once the doors closed, Clark turned to Perry and sighed softly. “Thanks chief. Lana is …”
Perry held up his hand cutting off the younger man’s comment. “Say no more, now about this interview …”
***
The elevator doors closed on Clark and Perry White. As a rule, she did not particularly care for the bellicose editor and his endless tacky stories about the late Elvis Presley. However, the man did sign Clark’s paychecks, so for now, he had to be tolerated.
Her boyfriend had an interview with
Arianna Carlin-Luthor? Finally a story that would impress her associates at the museum. Who knew where this assignment might lead, conceivably to a significant raise or prestigious award? Her father might look past Clark’s farmer upbringing and be a bit more respectful?
An unbidden thought bumped into her mind, what about Gregory Daae?
This morning he had come into her father’s office with a security question regarding the priceless Napoleon articles he had loaned to the museum from his private collection. Since Daddy was not in the building she happily answered all of his questions. Mr. Daae had been gracious and charming, even grateful for her help.
It was not the first incident Lana had spent considerable time with him, but it was the first time he had invited her to lunch. Oddly, she declined the invitation; on the pretext she was meeting Clark instead. Now she fervently wished her answer had been yes. Gregory Daae was intelligent, worldly and very attractive. She liked European men; they possessed a sophistication that their American counterparts sadly lacked. Guy de Momerie had allowed her a glimpse into the European aristocratic world, with it elegant gatherings and delicious luxuries. But his life course was set, no American wife for him, no matter how accomplished. Try as she might, she could not get him – or his family – to move on that point.
Nonetheless, Clark was safe, comfortable and with prodding, easy to manipulate. Whereas Daae represented risks …precariously appealing risks with unlimited possibilities she was seriously tempted to take. It would be several years before Clark established himself as a reporter and even more before his salary allowed them to live a truly comfortable lifestyle. Daae was enjoying the lifestyle she craved now.
Such vague possibilities had no hope of crystallizing into reality unless she accepted a lunch date or even stepped out with him for a coffee. Especially now since Clark was busy preparing for an important interview. He would never know…
The elevator came to a halt and Lana emerged, skillfully moving through the number of people milling around the Daily Planet’s lobby. She ignored the admiring glances of several men as she walked by. It was time to head back to work at the museum.
***
Perry and Clark discussed some important points. Clark emerged from the editor’s office armed with notes. Also his warning rang in Clark’s ears, “Remember, you have to handle Mrs. Luthor with kid gloves, her husband pulls a lot of weight in this town.”
Once again Clark submerged himself in preparation. The familiar din of the newsroom faded into the background.
Catherine walked over to his desk and sat in the visitor’s chair. “So I hear congratulations are definitely in order, it takes a lot to impress the suits and Perry.” Catherine looked around and said, “Here’s a tip, getting Arianna to talk won’t be easy, her moods tend to change.”
“That may be true, but I thought she was a perfectly gracious hostess. We talked about a mutual acquaintance who lives in Paris.”
Catherine lowered her voice and spoke so quietly that Clark would have had difficulty hearing her without his enhanced hearing. “Good, she wasn’t happy earlier in the evening, Lex’s eyes were wandering again.”
“Really?” Clark responded in genuine surprise.
“Oh, Lex dallies with the ladies. But he is
extremely discreet. The woman he flirted with last night must have been someone he could not resist. I happen to know she’s recently married and very much in love with her husband. The lady in question has no interest in Mr. Luthor or crossing swords with his wife.”
Clark whistled softly, “I thought gossip was Peggy Becker’s bailiwick?”
Catherine shrugged a shapely shoulder, for the past few months she had been working out and the results were nothing short of spectacular.
“It only takes listening and observation with a heavy dose of patience. Peggy’s learning, but I was better at reporting the fluff and keeping the really dynamite stuff quiet. The last thing we need is a libel suit.”
“Good advice. I take it the Luthors are not as happy as they seem?”
A slight frown cast a shadow over Catherine’s face, “They tolerate each other. According to one of my old sources Lex had an affair. There’s nothing new about that, but this time it distressed his wife to the point where she had the woman removed from Metropolis. So here’s a little more advice; if Arianna invited you to an interview and told you to bring Lois along - do it. Don’t be fooled. Mrs. Luthor might think turnabout is fair play.” With those words, Catherine vacated her seat.
It was a good thing she moved away otherwise she would have seen the distinct shade of red creep from Clark’s shirt collar to the top of his head. Taking his occasional partner on the interview was apparently for more than simply moral support.
***
Another hours passed before Clark decided it was time to again attempt reconciliation with Lois, muttering a quick prayer he walked over to her desk. “I could sure use your help on preparation for this interview Lois.”
The brown, doe-like eyes looked up and they sent a clear message she was still angry with him. The hoarfrost coming from her desk would have frightened a pack of Eskimos.
“Why?” She asked in a low growl, “So you can write it up and have all the credit for yourself?” With a vicious pull on the file drawer handle, she reached in, yanked out a thick, worn blue folder and slapped it on her desk. “For the past three years I’ve done extensive research on those two. In this folder are all the right questions to ask! But since you got the interview by being
charmingly clumsy, now you can try being a
real reporter … do your own legwork!” With those words she replaced the folder and closed the drawer shut with a bang.
At that moment the elevator doors opened and James Olsen appeared. He jauntily stepped past a delivery person and moved down the ramp with relative ease. Clark sensed the atmosphere of the newsroom perceptively shift as it invariably did whenever one of the ‘suits’ made an appearance. He thought Mr. Olsen would head for Perry’s office; instead he walked straight over and sat down on Clark’s visitor’s chair.
“Afternoon to you both,” he said, addressing Clark and Lois. “I hear from Perry you two are going to interview Arianna. That’s great. But she is very specific about what questions she will and will not answer. Here’s a list.” He reached into his jacket pocket and handed each reporter a sheet of paper. Lois carefully went over the questions, snorted and handed the paper back to him. “James, that list will turn the interview into a puff piece. Hardly worth my time! Let Kent handle it.”
The publisher, not in the least put off by her comment, replied, “Sorry Lois, she wants
both of you there. Otherwise the deal’s off.”
Lois smiled sweetly, “Then it’s off.”
Between Lois’ stubbornness and James interference, his dreams of writing a quality interview piece on Arianna Carlin-Luthor were quickly vanishing. He understood what was driving her behavior and someday he would talk to her about it. But now was definitely not the time. Desperate, Clark spoke up, “Now just a minute, Mr. Olsen, this is my story, Lois is not going to kill it due to her non-participation. But together we can write a
good interview and work within Mrs. Luthor’s request. It would make a great addition to the Weekend Section.”
Lois was about to ratchet the disagreement up a notch when a firm voice with a deep southern accent cut through the dissention.
“Uh, excuse me. I think we all need to go into my office.” Perry said.
James Olsen looked at the older man and was about to say something than thought better of it. He stood and said graciously, “Sure Perry, lead the way.”
Once everyone was seated, Perry closed the door, turned and spoke with his reporters. “Lois, Clark, no one disputes your abilities to write a story, separately or together but …”
“Perry! It’s always been one of my ambitions to get an interview with the Luthors
together – on my own,” She jerked her thumb at Clark, “but thanks to Kansas here, I have to act as a supporting cast member for his interview with her only! It’s not fair!”
Unfazed by her interruption Perry said, “Well darlin’ I always wanted to sing with the King, but since he’s lost his voice, that ain’t ever gonna happen. This time you are going to be a team player and
both of you will write this interview.”
“Excellent Perry, now about Arianna’s questions…” James began.
"Uh, Mr. Olsen, let's table that for a moment.” He turned back to Lois and Clark. “Any questions?”
“None from me Chief.” Clark said with a shrug
“Lois?”
Lois was sitting absolutely silent, trying to hold onto her tongue.
“Lo-is.” Perry said with an impatient tone.
“I’m thinking.” She retorted.
“Good, that’s what I want to see from my reporters.” He gestured towards the door. “Now get out of my office and get to ‘thinking’ on that article …with Kent!”
Lois and Clark departed, each looking at the other with murder in their eyes.
James sat back in the leather chair, grinned, reached into his beast pocket and said, “Smooth Perry, real smooth. Now about those interview questions…”
Perry looked at the young man and thought to himself <Ah, I have to be very careful how I handle this particular fox. He’s lookin’ to rob the wrong henhouse.>
“Excuse me James, but were those questions sent over from Mrs. Luthor?”
The easy atmosphere in the room changed somewhat. James sat up, slightly embarrassed, “Uh no, actually their mine. I didn’t want them to ask any questions that might be embarrassing to her. We … uh, that is the Planet, cannot write or ask anything that would put the Luthors in a bad light.”
“Ah, I see. Tell me Mr. Olsen, exactly
why did you buy The Daily Planet?”
The younger man was taken aback; he calculated what the old newshound was saying for a moment and answered very slowly. “I’ve always respected the integrity of this newspaper, its reputation for honestly and clear presentation of the facts is second to none.”
“Uh huh, that’s good, now what is the other reason?”
Feeling a little like he was back in grade school, but determined to stand his ground he said, “To help it generate money.”
“How long do you think we will continue to gain your second objective if you sacrifice the first? Oh, you can go ahead and have all our reporters write puff pieces, but it won’t be with me as Managing Editor or high-caliber reporters like Lane and up-and-comers like Kent. You’ll have a whole newsroom full of reporters even the Weehawken Gazette wouldn’t claim as their own.”
James Olsen looked at Perry White. He was not very keen on hearing those words and this is what his own father would have referred to as ‘a prickly conversation’. But he respected Perry’s nerve to say it and the hard won experience to back it up. He stood, signaling the conversation had come to an end and walked over to the door. “Very well Mr. White, I’ll stay in the Executive Suite and you handle the newsroom.”
Inwardly relieved that his point was made, Perry said, “Thank you James. See you when I’m upstairs.”
***
Lana arrived in the corridor leading to her tiny rectangle of an office in the subterranean bowels of the Metropolis museum just in time to see her Father coming out.
Without preamble, the elder Lang growled, “Where have you been?”
She threw back her blonde hair and smiled, hoping to avoid a fight,
“Hello Daddy. I went to have lunch with Clark. I wanted to know all about the White Orchid Ball.” She paused to significantly look up and down the hallway before she continued, “Can we talk about this in your office rather than the hallway?”
Her father agreed and presently she found herself upstairs in the executive offices sitting in a very comfortable leather visitor’s chair looking across at her father, who at the moment was acting in the role of Age of Napoleon exhibit officer and her boss.
His irritation under control Professor Lang spoke briskly, “As you are very well aware, my duties vary greatly. Not only do I have responsibility for the Napoleon collection, but I must also oversee public relations, marketing, fundraising and education programs ...”
Lana sighed, father was right; she was taking shameful advantage of their family relationship. It was time to hold up her end of the deal.
“… we have talked before about you taking off to meet with that reporter boyfriend of yours. Young lady, it is twelve fifteen. You’ve got demanding work to do here and this morning we find ourselves in the middle of a crisis.”
Lana tensed and then said. “What sort of crisis?”
“Jefferson Bailey, the museum’s art director contacted me this morning. The camp chair Napoleon used for his campaign in Egypt is not going to be a part of the exhibit. The owner reneged on his agreement. I don’t have explain to you how awkward the display would appear to the public, especially to experts … like Gregory Daae.”
She blinked and mentally ran through the names of all the European collectors they could contact. Once a reputable collector was located, there were tedious international legal processes which must be fulfilled, not to mention packing, shipping and getting it to Metropolis without incident. If none of the collectors agreed they would have to redesign the tent layout. Either situation would throw the entire exhibit schedule off by days if not weeks.
Her father’s voice broke into her train of thought. “I can think of a couple of people in France and one in Zurich who might be able to help us although it will require a certain amount of hand holding. Collectors are a notoriously egotistic lot and some of these people will be considerably miffed that the museum did not approach them first. It’s impossible for me to leave right now, so I’m sending you in my stead.”
Lana blinked, than cocked an eyebrow and said, “This is a wonderful opportunity to prove myself to the board of directors. I’ll get the job done, the exhibit will be perfect.”
He nodded and for the first time that morning seemed a bit relieved.
“Use the museum’s European contacts they are extensive. Avoid stooping to the debased tactics of some of our less reputable colleagues. Do whatever is
legally possible to obtain that chair.” He reached into a desk drawer and said, “Here is a list of other items which are not crucial to the exhibit, but have recently surfaced and might add a bit of texture and design to the overall display.”
“Thanks Daddy! You won’t be disappointed.”
No sooner had the words escaped her mouth there was a knock at the door.
“Come in!” Professor Lang said gruffly.
“Good afternoon Bertram, Miss Lang.” Gregory Daae strode into the office; his confident and powerful presence immediately filled the room. “I understand there have been difficulties with the camp chair and some other items?”
“Yes, there are, but we are working on it. Lana will have to spend some time cutting red tape: such as creating a travel schedule, hotel arrangements and phoning our European contacts, it should take up most of this evening.” Prof. Lang responded
“
This evening? B…but I have plans.” Lana regretted saying the words as soon as they escaped past her lips. Didn’t she just say the camp chair would be located?
Her father turned and looked at her as if to say, ‘Your
plans with Clark are on hold.’
Daae said, “Ah, it seems you have the situation well in hand. But if you require my aid, please do not hesitate to contact me.”
“Thank you, Gregory.” Professor Lang was about to say something more, but the phone rang. He picked up the receiver and discovering who it was said. “Excuse me, both of you, but this call is important.”
***
They exited the office; Lana softly closed the door behind her. She was all too aware of the tall, maturely handsome man at her side as they walked towards the elevator.
“It is a shame your plans for the evening have been significantly altered. But the chair is central to that part of the display. It would be a great pity to present a replica rather than the real thing.”
She sighed, “It was important, all my other work will have to be put on hold until my return. I need to start contacting some of the collectors immediately; it’s close to dinner time in Paris.”
They had stopped in front of the elevator; Daae looked down upon her and said with a surprisingly warm smile that touched his Nordic blue eyes, said. “I have some contacts in Europe, especially in Zurich and Paris. Please, allow me to be of some assistance to you … and of course the museum,” he added quickly.
To receive such obliging attention from this man was gratifying to Lana, she responded. “I would appreciate that very much Mr. Daae. Uh,
perhaps with your contacts the other items on this list can be located quickly?”
As he took the list from her hand, he lightly brushed her fingers which sent sparks tingling through her. He looked it over carefully and nodded. “Perhaps. I should think there would be no problem speaking to the owners of these items and encouraging them to loan them to the museum. Your Father no doubt wants this matter resolved quickly. May I suggest rather than going through the time consuming routine of making travel arrangements, allow me to offer you a seat on my private jet?”
Lana was positively thrilled by such a generous offer and wanted to jump for joy. But not wanting to appear too eager she said with a smile, “Th…thank you Mr. Daae. That’s very kind, but I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”
“Pas du tout. I must return to Paris on Monday. Some of the Board members shall be flying with me. Consider how much this will save the museum and all the inconveniences of traveling to and from the airport as well as going through security queues? Perhaps you will allow me to have my car pick you up either at home or here?”
Brightening at the thought of spending considerable uninterrupted time with the urbane businessman, Lana agreed to fly back with him.
“Splendid. It will be a pleasure to have such an amiable companion to brighten a rather dreary flight.” Daae looked at her, his mouth shaped into a surprisingly charming smile. He was close, close enough for her to breathe in expensive cologne and take in every detail of his hand crafted clothing. Mr. Daae dressed so much better than Clark, who until recently was adamant in saving money rather than looking like a professional reporter with polish. In some ways Clark was still a boy, whereas Daae… A thought clicked and she decided to try something - push the edge of their new association a tiny bit further.
“Mr. Daae, I’m looking forward to it. But I have a small request which you are perfectly suited to assist me with.”
His expression became puzzled, “Please - in private call me - Gregory, I am at your service.”
“Could we speak nothing but French and German on the way over? It’s been nearly a year and my knowledge of both languages is getting out of practice.”
“Bien sûr! Perhaps we can start tonight … over dinner?”
“That would be great! I know a pleasant little bistro downtown,
Donatello’s, have you ever heard of it?”
Daae barely suppressed a shudder, the thought of eating in an American style restaurant that attracted obnoxious young business people with bad haircuts and even worst manners did not appeal to him.
“Please allow me to make the choice, you shall not be disappointed. My car will be waiting for you outside the employee’s entrance at 7:00. Until than Miss Lang ... Lana.” He bowed his head, turned and walked swiftly down the corridor.
She secretly smiled to herself in triumph and thought, <This was far
better than lunch!> She entered the elevator. Upon return to the office, she called Clark and canceled their dinner date on the pretext she had to work.
***
After making travel plans with the intriguing Miss Lang, Daae returned to his temporary offices in Midtown Metropolis. He found conducting business at home intrusive to his privacy. It was best to work in a building that was designed for commerce. The five floors DMG leased within Meridian Towers was close enough to keep his figurative eyes and ears on both Preston Carpenter and Lex Luthor, but far enough away to conduct his own business in some degree of privacy.
He noted his assistant, the very capable Mrs. Aronnax, was away from her desk, normally she was always there to greet him with messages and updates on anything that had taken place in his absence. <Ah well, he thought, she probably stepped away for just a brief moment.
He opened the door to find Jasper Templar placing a file on his desk. It was not so much his proximity to the piece of furniture, but the unmistakable expression of delightful – even pride of being in the room itself that set Daae on edge. “Templar, I do not believe we had a meeting set for this afternoon.” He said icily.
Jasper had the good graces to be startled by his employer’s unexpected entrance. “I…I wanted to drop off these new reports. If we continue buying up shares at this rate, LexCorp will be ours in about four months.”
“Very good…”
Suddenly Mrs. Aronnax stood in the doorway, a cup of steaming coffee in her hand and a small fruit salad sitting on a plate in the other. A puzzled expression stamped firmly on her strong face. “Mr. Templar? I don’t have you down for an appointment… Mr. Daae?”
“It’s all right, Mrs. Aronnax. Please leave everything on the coffee table and close the door on your way out.” He said soothingly.
She nodded, did as she was bid and noiselessly closed the door.
Turning his attention to Jasper, he inclined his head towards the door and said, “Mrs. Aronnax guards my office like it is a citadel. A good administrative assistant, like a good wife is very hard to find. Wouldn’t you say?”
Jasper cleared his throat and made a feeble attempt at a joke, “Are you looking for a wife? If so, who is the lady?”
Daae turned to his employee, if it were at all possible; the clear blue eyes were colder than ever. “That, sir, is none of your affair. Just as being in my office without my knowledge is not your right. In future, if there is something of importance for me to read, leave it on Mrs. Aronnax’s chair if she is not available. Understood?”
Jasper nodded, his cheek twitched faintly, a telltale sign he was both angry and embarrassed. He made a feeble attempt at conversation, but Daae dismissed him from the room. With alacrity that surprised even himself, Jasper made a hasty retreat.
<Good.> Daae thought. <He needs to know his position within the organization.>
