Free Letters From The Ledge by Lynda Meyers Page B

competition that we’re not only alive and well, but we’ve also ‘moved into the twenty first century’ as you call it.”
    "Great. I’ll give you a call next week."
    Frank shook his head. "I’m leaving in the morning. I have to be in London tomorrow night. I had a couple of my staffers put together some information for you to start working on. I have it on a disk at home. Would you mind coming by real quick? It’s just a short walk from here."
    Nate couldn’t think of anything better to do while he was killing time. Business might as well occupy his thoughts. It was, at least, safer that way. Besides, he definitely needed to walk off the gin. He’d been stupid to down three drinks in the space of a half-hour.
    “Sure Frank. No problem.” He started to reach for his wallet but Frank waved him off and nodded to the young bartender, who nodded in return.
    “Goodnight Jimmy.”
    Nate took a deep breath. “Thanks Frank.”
    “My pleasure.” The young man waved as he and Nate slid off their chairs and started for the door. “Do you like Scotch?”
    “That depends.”
    “On what?”
    “On the scotch, of course.” Nate smiled and followed cautiously as Frank led the way. His father was a scotch drinker and had taught him to be discerning. Nate didn’t actually enjoy scotch, but it was all part of the game, and he’d been groomed for it since his infancy.
    They walked the opposite direction on the block and came to a building directly on Madison that was literally just around the corner from theirs, although city blocks did tend to be larger than most.
    The red carpet and matching awning were a dead giveaway. It was just the kind of place he’d imagined Frank Evans would own; and almost an exact replica of the apartment his parents still owned. The doorman that materialized looked like a cross between a marine and a guard at Buckingham Palace. He looked sideways at Nate and waited for Frank’s nod before leading them into the massive marbled lobby, then disappeared like a good waiter with a water pitcher.
    "He flying back to London with you?"
    Frank laughed. "He’d probably take that as a compliment."
    When they got into the elevator the operator also nodded to Frank. "Good evening Mr. Evans." He pushed the button for Frank’s floor and they rode up in silence.
    The bell sounded at the fifty-fifth floor, just one floor shy of the fifty-six listed on the wall of the elevator. There were only two doors on the entire floor.
    Frank pushed his key into the one on the right and then slipped what looked like a credit card into an electronic reader at the side of the door. A green light came on, enabling him to turn the key in the lock.
    The door opened to reveal an expansive foyer with at least ten-foot ceilings. This was no apartment. It was an entire house. It even had what looked like an upstairs.
    "Technically, there is no fifty-sixth floor, so this actually is the penthouse." Frank seemed to answer Nate’s question before he could even ask it.
    "You have an upstairs too?"
    "Yes. It’s really quite ingenious how they’ve arranged the space. Over to the right there–that wing basically belongs to my son. Oh, and the housekeeper’s room is over there too. And laundry and what not." He waved his hand in circles in order to ball up all the inconsequential things at once.
    "In the middle here we have the formal areas for entertaining, the kitchen is just beyond that doorway and several rooms wrap around the side of the building over there, which is where the master suite is. My home office is just upstairs."
    "Would you mind if I used the uh–"
    "Certainly! There’s one just past the archway on your right. I’ll let Ginny know you’re here."
    "Thanks."
    He followed Frank’s directions into a hallway with several doors. He tried one and found himself face-to-face with a handsome young man who was sitting in front of his computer, smoking a joint. Nate couldn’t help smiling. It was just too good to be