Free Dying For Siena by Elizabeth Jennings Page B

looking down at his perfectly buffed and filed fingernails. “Sadly, Professor Kane’s…temperament is no longer a problem. And I can assure you we are delighted to have you. Tell me, Faith,” he leaned forward. “Did you read Dunhatton’s paper on system dynamics?”
    “Sure.” Faith leaned forward, too. “I think it will have a number of interesting applications. For example, it would be fun to come up with a sort of management flight simulator—a little self-contained world, where we could use a company’s input to define the parameters. The executive staff could try out decisions and see what the short-term and long-term fallout would be.”
    “Excellent.” He beamed. “This year is going to be exceptionally interesting. We have Yamaki from Nogura and Jean-Pierre Daumier from The Pasteur Institute. You’ll enjoy what he’s done on the epidemiology of AIDS. It’s going to be an interesting week.” He picked up a dog-eared copy of the program. “Let’s see, tomorrow we’re going to have registration from eight to nine, though the desk will be open all morning. We’ll have an early lunch here and then we’re starting again at two.
    “I’d like the work to be over by 5:00 because most of the participants will want to get down to Siena to see the trial heat of the Palio .” He smiled at her blank look. “That’s our local horse race. It’s—” he pursed his lips, “—it’s a deeply felt event in Siena. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.
    “And coming back to our business, I suggest you co-chair Critical Points in Hysteresis with Murauer in room four, from 3:00 to 4:15, and moderate the Tipping Behavior Panel from 4:30 to 5:30. We’ll see about the other days as we go along. Is that all right with you?”
    Thoughts of Roland Kane’s perfidy fled from her head and, for a second, Faith forgot how much she hated him.
    It was happening. It was finally happening. Eighteen long, miserable years in Sophie and eight long, hard, empty years putting herself through school and graduate school, and then this last year at St. Vincent’s under Kane, which had been unpleasant, to put it mildly.
    Who the hell cared? It was over. She was in this gorgeous country on a beautiful summer day and this wonderful Italian man had just handed her the keys to the kingdom.
    Is that all right with you? Leonardo’s words echoed in her head.
    She smiled and saw him blink. So, okay, maybe she didn’t smile all that much. “That’s just fine with me, Leonardo,” she said softly. “Just fine.”
    “Well good.” He rose and took her hand. “After work, we’re organizing minibuses to take the participants down to Siena in the evenings to watch the trial races of the Palio , and I found seats for the participants for the big day itself.” He beamed with pleasure.
    Faith tried to think of something she cared less about than horse racing, but came up blank. Still, if Leonardo wanted her to watch a bunch of horses run around a track, fine. She’d have happily gone along if he wanted to show her the Cow Patty Museum. She’d even make ooh-ing sounds if he wanted.
    “Well.” He stood and Faith was so spaced out she sat for a moment, looking up at him, neck craned. Then she hastily scrambled to her feet.
    “I think Paul Allen’s just arrived. You might want to talk with him about coordination. We’re very happy to have you with us, Faith.”
    He escorted her to the door and she walked out, dazed, into the dazzling sunshine. Into her newly dazzling life.
    She’d need to read Dunhatton, Yamaki and Daumier off the Net, and she’d need to put her notes on tipping behavior in order. She’d need to interface with the other members of the panel on hysteresis…
    God, it was all so exciting.
    This immense male cloud had been…lifted. She’d spent the first eighteen years of her life under a mean drunk—her father—and another long year under another mean drunk, Roland Kane. In between had been gray years of slog.
    It was