The Sins of the Mother Page 0,4

up to them for the father they had lost, and the time she hadn’t spent with them when they were young. She knew she couldn’t make up for lost time, but the trips she arranged for them were wonderful for all of them, and she put a lot of thought and effort into it every year. She considered it a sacred time.

She waved to him and hurried back to her office just as the elevator doors closed. It was nearly twelve-thirty, and she had an hour before the reporter from The New York Times arrived. She had already asked her assistant to provide a salad for her at her desk. She didn’t want to waste any time. She often did that or skipped lunch, which gave her the still-lithe, girlish figure other women envied and admired. It contributed to her looking younger than her age, along with her youthful, surprisingly unlined face. She never thought about her looks.

Peter had reminded her of something with his question about her trip, and she stopped to speak to her assistant, Margaret, on her way back to her office.

“Did the e-mails go out this morning about the trip?”

“I sent them at ten o’clock this morning. And your lunch is waiting on your desk, with your messages and your call list.” She was planning to have her own lunch at her desk as well. She knew how busy Olivia was on the days that they held board meetings. Olivia would spend the rest of the day trying to catch up, and probably work late that night. Margaret was prepared to do the same. She never begrudged Olivia the time, and arranged her personal life accordingly. Her dedication to Olivia came first. Olivia inspired those who worked for her to work as hard as she did herself. They found her energy exciting.

Olivia thanked her and walked into her large, elegantly appointed office. Everything in the room was light, airy, and beige. There were contemporary paintings on the walls, some of them by her son, and a handmade beige silk rug she’d had made in Italy. It was a pleasant place to work, and there were a couch and several chairs in one corner. It was where she would conduct the interview in an hour. It was for the business section of The New York Times. She was being interviewed by a young reporter she hadn’t met before. Margaret had already given her a sheet with his credentials and his background. He sounded relatively harmless to Olivia, although a little green. But she had profound respect for youth, and always valued a fresh perspective and new ideas.

She loved talking to her grandchildren for that reason, and having them on the summer trip with her. It was a time she cherished with them every year, as much as she did with her own children. She hoped they’d all be excited by the trip she’d planned for them this year. It sounded like it was going to be one of their best. In her mind, it was an invitation, and in theirs it was a command performance. They knew she expected them to be there, and her invitations were always hard to resist.

The next hour flew by, as Olivia returned dozens of calls and responded to several e-mails herself. She never had time to touch her salad, before Margaret called on the intercom to tell her the reporter from The New York Times had arrived. Olivia told her to bring him into her office, and she stood up to greet him and came around the desk, and led him to the comfortable couch and chairs.

The man who sat down with her and returned her gaze was somewhere in his mid-twenties and was wearing jeans, running shoes, and a T-shirt. His hair was long and wild, and he looked as though he hadn’t shaved in several days. It was a familiar look for someone his age. He certainly hadn’t dressed for the occasion, and Olivia didn’t mind. She was used to earnest young reporters. Most of them looked awestruck or intimidated when they met Olivia, but this one didn’t. He began firing questions at her immediately. Olivia was undismayed by his lack of preamble or manners, and answered his questions clearly and directly, with a pleasant expression, undaunted by his style and appearance.

The interview went well for nearly an hour, despite the unbridled frankness of his questions. He asked her some hard questions, and she enjoyed them and had ready

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