Chapter 13
They barely made the last flight of the day to New York, but even on the plane, knowing they’d be in Manhattan no later than eleven, Grady couldn’t relax. He’d tried two more times to get a hold of Oliver, and two more times, his personal assistant Loretta had given him the brush-off.
“He’s had this dinner meeting scheduled for months,” she’d said. “He’s not taking any calls at all, Grady. I’m sorry.”
He didn’t believe her for a second, but he thanked her politely anyway. Loretta was the last person he wanted to piss off. She managed Oliver’s life all the way down to buying his socks. The possibility that he’d already managed to do it, that she wasn’t connecting him out of some personal vendetta, had crossed his mind, but until he got to see her in person, he had to assume th
