Everyone around the table stopped and looked at him. Then they looked at Peter.
Peter, gently rocking Isle in his lap, looked at Byron. Then he turned to William, and he smiled.
"Now there's an interesting idea."
* * *
She pulled into a handicapped parking space beside Matthew's car, then flashed her Wallaby VIP badge to the security guard sitting behind the lobby desk. Matthew had gotten the pass for her a few years ago, after she had once been accosted by security when she had arrived and marched right past the desk carrying a basket of flowers, a surprise for her husband. As far as she was concerned, she was still the boss's wife, and she could go anywhere she damn well pleased. She ignored the guard's pleasantries and boarded the elevator. A moment later the door parted, and she was on the top floor.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Locke," a handsome receptionist said cheerfully.
"Hello, Sheldon," Greta said with an effusive smile. Such a charming young man. He knew how to treat a distinguished woman. As she headed away, her peripheral vision caught the young man lifting the telephone handset, warning the executive secretaries that she was on her way.
So well trained, she thought, a sudden hush falling over the executive area. As she marched along the row of offices, each of the secretaries graced her with a smile and a greeting.
"Greta," Matthew's secretary Eileen said with deliberate flatness.
Greta marched past her desk without so much as a glance and went straight into her husband's office.