"Matthew, don't worry, it's not going to change our arrangement," William said. "We want Wallaby, and especially the Joey technology."
Joey technology. Peter's invention. Matthew was at once overcome by a wave of jealousy and loathing. When would Wallaby be considered his? Once Wallaby was merged with ICP, would people still call it "the company founded by Peter Jones?" Would he, Matthew, be forgotten, like some sort of middle man?
William poured Matthew another glass of water. As he accepted it,
William said, "There's no way you can persuade Jones to return to
Wallaby?"
"That seems unlikely," Matthew said calmly, but what he really wanted to say, to shout, was that Wallaby was his now, and Peter Jones was gone for good.
"I see." William nodded and closed the binder, shutting with it any further discussion of Peter Jones. "When do you fly back?"
"Tomorrow."
William tapped the binder. "I'm going to have to spend some time with this before I'll have any questions for you." He glanced at his watch. "Do you have any other meetings while you're here?"
"None. I allotted a full day for us, and intended to go back tomorrow. However, if we're through, I'll go back tonight, and you can contact me when you're ready."
"Fine," William said, rising. He offered a few words of reassurance. "It's all coming along well, Matthew." They shook hands outside William's office, and Matthew exited the suite.
Pressing the down elevator button, he noticed his hand was a little unsteady. Now that their meeting was through, he was grateful to be leaving New York City a day sooner than planned. "Come on," Matthew whispered, pressing the button again and again.