The Brightest Star - Fern Michaels Page 0,90

rate doubling, she ran to the bathroom and checked herself one last time before returning to the living room to wait for someone to knock at the door.

Ten minutes later, she heard the chopper land on the roof, and two minutes after that, there was a knock on the door. She opened it, surprised when she saw Sandra Marie.

“What a surprise,” Lauren said, opening the door.

“You’ll learn all about me tonight. Let’s not keep that chopper waiting.”

Lauren grabbed the headset from the table near the door, closed the door behind her, and even though she had no key, no card, she heard the lock click into place.

Following the older woman up the stairs, Lauren prayed she would be in this good a shape when she was older. Though she wasn’t sure of Sandra Marie’s age, she guessed she was older than she looked.

The blades whirled on the giant helicopter, and Lauren was sure this was not the same chopper she’d flown in earlier. This one was twice the size. Sandra Marie opened a sliding door and stood aside for her to climb aboard. As soon as they were buckled in, Lauren placed the headset over her ears and plugged into the jack in front of her.

“Can you hear me?” she asked Sandra Marie.

“Loud and clear,” she responded.

“And so can your pilot,” John said. She was able to see him in this chopper.

“How many of these things do you have?” she asked, truly interested.

“San, how many?”

“Ten,” she said.

“Oh.” Lauren was shocked. Who needs ten helicopters?

“That’s worldwide,” Sandra Marie said.

Lauren nodded. “I see.”

“Just the one airplane, though,” John said.

“That’s not true, John Anthony.”

“We have one commercial aircraft.”

“And a dozen or more Learjets.”

“Okay, we have a lot of smaller aircraft.”

Lauren didn’t want to appear awestruck, but she couldn’t help herself.

“You’ll get used to it, honey,” Sandra Marie said. “It sounds lavish, but we use the airplanes for the business. G can fill you in on the details if he wants this info in the book. By the way, I’ve read all of your biographies. You’re very good.”

“Thank you. It’s the style of writing I enjoy. The research, the people I get to meet. Though Mr. G is by far the most famous entrepreneur I’ve had the pleasure to meet. And the most interesting.” It was true.

“I don’t know, I think Albert Grossman is pretty impressive,” Sandra Marie said.

He was the founder of Shout Out, a social-media must-have for anyone who had a cell phone or any kind of notebook or computer. He’d opened the door for people all over the world to communicate.

“He was a lot of work, that’s all I’ll say.” Lauren was loyal to her subjects. If she knew bits and pieces through her research and the interview process that the public didn’t need to know, she kept them to herself.

“We’re preparing to land,” John said. “It’s a bit windy, so hang on.”

Again, they hovered over yet another helipad, though Lauren didn’t see the trademark G.

The whir of the blades died, then John removed his headset. The ride couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. Briefly, Lauren wondered why Mr. G had a home so close to the penthouse apartment she stayed in but figured he’d tell her if she asked. And she would.

“Okay, ladies, let’s see what Dad’s got cooking.”

John helped Sandra Marie off the chopper, then he held out his hand to Lauren, though he didn’t let go as they made their way to the entrance. Again, a card was scanned, a red light flashed, and the door slid open.

“One more,” John said. They took an elevator to the floor below them. “Security,” John explained.

Another scan, though this time John stood in front of a lens, a green light moved from side to side, then a red light flashed three times, and the door opened.

“That’s a retinal scan,” John explained. “Crazy world requires this now.”

She had heard of these types of scans—they weren’t all that uncommon—but she’d never witnessed one in action.

Mr. G himself greeted them as soon as John walked into a giant room similar to the penthouse.

“I see my son delivered my guests without any problems.”

“Nothing to it,” John said. “So, Dad, I’m starved. What’s for dinner?”

Lauren felt out of place for a minute, then Mr. G took her by the hand. “I want to show you this new gadget in the kitchen first,” he said, and again gave her a sheepish wink. “Come on, San, you need to see this, too.”

“G, you and your gadgets.”

Lauren was