year Howard knew he had to do something so he had put out a feeler with Henry Hillings about the possibility one of his grandchildren might be interested in learning the business. The old man instantly got fired up about the idea because he had one grandson, he said, âWhoâs just the ticket,â and it was not long before a lawyer called Howard to express Henryâs interest in buying his grandson into the agency as a partner. A partial cash-flow solution seemed to be near. But when it came time to show the agency books, Howard put itoff because the agency at that moment was out over two hundred thousand dollars on a credit line with a bank that was failing. Thatâs when he had hustled to get the Gertrude Bristol deal going and got shot down.
Subsequent meetings with his accountant did not go well. If Howard wanted the agency books to look good, he was told, he had to pay off the credit line, lay off at least three employees, sublet one of the offices and make his employees pay at least thirty percent of their health care premiums. Also, if he didnât want trouble with the IRS, he needed an extra hundred thousand to set things right. His finances, the accountant told him, were now officially a secret disaster.
Howard took out a second mortgage on the Woodbury property (bringing up the percentage he owed to one hundred and twenty-five percent), paid the IRS, paid off the agency credit lines and balanced the books. The accountant only shook his head, saying it was no good to put personal property at risk when the agency had been incorporated expressly to shield his family. Why did Howard do it?
Howard did it because Howard couldnât stand the idea that Henry Hillings would think he had sold his distinguished literary agency to a loser. In Howardâs eyes it was a far better thing to be in a temporary personal financial bind than for even a hint of tarnish to appear on the Hillings & Stewart name.
He had told Amanda none of this because this was the one areaâmoneyâhe had sworn to her she would never have to worry about on his end. He had learned his lesson with his first wife; Howard would make his own money. Amanda owned the Riverside Drive apartment free and clear and she also had a generous trust fund, the revenue from which they could rely on. Amanda didnât care how much money Howard made; she only cared that Howard did not drift into the financially carefree attitude he had developed in his first marriage. That was why he had been so excited about buying the Woodbury property. He was buying a beautiful home for his family; it was the money he had earned that would keep his family safe.
Amandaâs reaction to the house had been everything Howard had hoped for. Her jaw dropped in disbelief and then she had burst into tears, telling him she couldnât believe it, how much he had achieved in such a short period of time, and how she and Emily and Teddy (for Grace had not yet even been imagined) were the luckiest people on the face of the earth.
âHoward,â his mother said.
Howard blinked and then looked across the living room. His mother was driving him crazy tonight, talking about what a wonderful husband and provider Howardâs father had beenâeven if he hadnât gone to college like Howard and hadnât had fancy friends. She was just declaring there was no shame in a man working with his hands when the phone rang.
âIâm proud of Dad, too, Mom,â Howard said, jumping up to answer the phone.
âIâm over here at Captain Cookâs if you still feel like having that beer,â the insurance salesman aspiring to be a novelist told Howard.
âIâm glad you called,â Howard said, trying to put on an act of grave concern for his motherâs benefit. This would be his only chance to get out of here for a while. âI got an e-mail this morning from Australia Iâd like to discuss with you. So donât move,