Chapter 5

            Afteran extra long lunch and lots of retail therapy – retail therapy that stilldidn’t manage to erase the embarrassment of cursing out loud in a court of lawand being chastised by an actual judge -- Ava returned to the office around4:00 that afternoon.

            With Libby at the dentist andHarriet still tending to her spiritual duties, the building was nearlydeserted.  Ava kicked off her shoes underthe desk and sighed with relief that at least she had an hour to herself beforethe meeting with Harriet that would cap off an already fabulous day.

            “Knock, knock.”

            Ava looked up. “Hi, Bill.”

            “How’s your day going?”

            “Swimmingly.”

            “I hear you,” Bill said. “We avoidedyet another network crash today.”

            “Oh, no,” Ava said. “Did somethinghappen to my computer while I was gone? Do you think I lost any work?”

            “Ava, Ava, Ava,” Bill chuckled. “Myjob is a lot like national security. If you knew how close we came to a networkcrash every single day, you’d stop storing any information on the computer. Yourmachine is just fine.”

            “Thanks, Bill.” A comparison tonational security? Ava didn’t have a response for that one.

            “Yep, every day is a battle againstthe viruses and spyware.” Bill looked the part of an IT geek in every way,shape and form. He wore pleated khakis and one of three short-sleeved, striped,button-down shirts every single day. He also wore glasses and was so stickthin, Ava was pretty sure she had at least 10 pounds on him.

            “I’m glad it’s your job and notmine. If I was in charge of tech in this office, we’d all be out of thepublishing business within days.”

            “And the user errors … Don’t evenget me started on the user errors.”

            Bill was lingering. Ava didn’t likelingering. “

            “Ted in accounting loves to playaround with the program settings …”

            “Bill, I hate to interrupt, but Ihave a big meeting coming up soon.”

            “Of course, of course,” Bill said.“I didn’t mean to bend your ear. I’ve been a little shaken up all day. My excalled. She says she needs some space again.”

            Ava pushed her computer keyboard tothe side. Even though this was the same spiel she’d heard over and over againfor nearly a year, and she found Bill to be mostly annoying, she still didn’thave the heart to throw him out of her office. If nothing else, at least this shouldstave off her boredom until Harriet got back.

            “She wasn’t saying she needed spacewhen I slept over on Saturday.”

            Dear Lord, this was not going to bean easy conversation. Then again, Ava knew all too well that the road to hellwas paved with good intentions.

            After 45 minutes of coddling andcomforting, during which Ava yet again learned way too much about the personallife of her co-worker, Bill finally stood to leave.

            “You’re a good listener, Ava.”

            “Any time.”

            “I don’t know why some man hasn’tsnatched you up yet.”

            “That makes two of us,” Ava said.

            Bill walked out of the door to Ava’soffice, but then turned around.

            “Bill, I really do have to get somework done this afternoon.”

            “No, all this talk about Alyssa mademe forget the real reason I came in her in the first place. They brought mesome of your mail, and I thought you might want it back.”

            “Thanks, Bill.”

            “No problem.”

            Ava began to sift through the pileof papers. There were a few submissions from freelance writers, notices about conferencesin the area. But, it was the society page of a local magazine that reallycaught her eye. There was a very familiar face in a group of photos from someribbon-cutting or other, even if she had only seen that face just a few hoursbefore.

            Mr.Stuart Newson, CEO of Dexco Industries, steps out on the town with a businessassociate.

            It was always nice to have a name togo with a face. And Ava also thought that the stunning brunette standing nextto Mr. Newson didn’t look like any of the business associates she’d want hernot-yet-ex-husband to have.  

Knowing she had about 30 minutes to spare beforefighting traffic, Ava turned to her computer and searched for the DexcoIndustries company home page.

            “Dexco Industries specializes inurban renewal and development. We strive to uplift and maintain standards forthe community befitting progressive, modern neighborhoods. Where others seefailure, we see opportunity.”

            Ava was pretty sure that all of theDexco jargon meant Mr. Newson snapped up low-income housing or foreclosures andturned everything he saw into condos. Whatever the specifics of his industry,it seemed to be working for him. The Dexco site was credited to the top graphicdesign firm in town, and Ava recognized at least three condo developments Dexcohad built she knew were well out of her price range (or that of anyone earninga salary less than the high six figures). Moving away from the main page, Avaclicked on About Us.

            “Stuart Newson, M.B.A. WhartonUniversity, founded Dexco in 1994after a successful 10-year career in commercial real estate … Dexco was afamily-run company for the first 15 years of its existence … In 2009, Mr.Newson decided to take Dexco public and Eleanor Franklin, M.B.A. ColumbiaUniversity, joined thecompany as CFO …”

            A quick glance at the latest companyportrait allowed Ava to confirm that Eleanor Franklin was indeed the attractivebrunette socializing and working with Ryan Newson’s husband. Ava also couldn’thelp but wonder about the switch from a “family-run company” to a publicentity. She had a sneaking suspicion Ryan did a lot of uncredited work gettingDexco off the ground, and somehow managed to lose her marriage and much of hercareer to her husband’s ambitions.

            Ava would have loved to spend moretime on the Internet, but a quick glance at the clock told her there wassomewhere else she needed to be.