The Fifth Avenue Series Boxed Set Read Free Page A

Knowing her father as well as she did, Celina said, “Really.   I’m fine.”
    “What happened?” he asked.
    Celina explained everything to him.   When she told him about the man who was trapped behind the spotlight, she raised her hands in apology. “I tried to keep what happened to him from the press, but it was impossible.   The reporters got wind of it before I could do anything.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” George said. “This wasn’t our fault.   If anything, they’ll be congratulating you for saving that man’s life.   Was anyone else hurt?”
    She told him about the men who had been burned.
    “So, we’re facing lawsuits.”
      “Not necessarily,” Celina said.   “I sent Kate and Jim from PR to speak to the families of those who were hurt.   If all goes well, each wife will be driving a Lexus by week’s end, their kids will have their college educations paid for, a significant amount of money will be in their bank accounts—and we’ll have signed documents saying that each family has waived all rights to sue.”
    Something caught her eye and she turned.   George followed her gaze.   Across the lobby, three men in dull yellow jackets were stepping into one of the elevators with two large dogs.   “Bomb squad,” Celina said.   “They arrived just after the police and fire department.”
    “How long will they be?”
    She checked her watch.   “A full crew is here,” she said.   “They’ve already covered the first eighteen floors.   With the help of those dogs, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re out of here in the next few hours—leaving us time to make a final statement to the press and last-minute preparations for the party.”
    “If anyone shows,” George said.
    “They’ll show,   If only because they’ve paid ten grand per couple, they’ll show.    Besides, when have you ever known one of Mom’s parties to fail?”
    George raised an eyebrow.   She had a point.
    They moved to the bar.   “So, who did it?” Celina asked.
    “No idea.   I’ve been racking my brain since I got your call.”
    “I phoned the company who supplied the spotlights and was told that each light was inspected before delivery.   If that’s true—and I’m not saying it is—then that can only mean that someone here planted the bombs.”
    “Have the police questioned the lighting crew?”
    “They’re being questioned now, but what I can’t figure out is why a more powerful bomb wasn’t used.   The three that went off were low-impact explosives.   They were designed to cause only minor damage.”
    “I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
    “So, what is this?”
    George shrugged.   “Who knows?   Maybe someone hates the design of our building.”
    Somehow, her father usually managed to keep his sense of humor, even in situations as difficult as this.   “What’s the word on RRK?” she asked.
    “If they were nervous about backing us before, they must be terrified now,” he said.
    Roberts, Richards and Kravis—better known as RRK—was the investment group George hired to help finance the takeover of WestTex Incorporated.   Although George had management, without RRK’s $3.75 billion war chest, without their skills and the banks they had locked up, he wouldn’t be able to complete this deal on his own.
    “I haven’t heard a word,” he said.   “But I’m sure I will by this evening.   This is probably the excuse Frank Richards has been waiting for.   He’s never been in favor of this takeover.   If he thinks someone rigged those spotlights to make a statement about our falling stock, or to protest our interest in WestTex, he won’t think twice about pulling out—regardless of any deal we have with him.”
    Celina knew that was true.   While there were other banks and investment groups who might be willing to take the risk her father was offering, few were as experienced as RRK when it came to LBOs.
    “Have you seen your sister today?” he asked.