leave from her job as a clerk at Manhattan Multiples, and had been keeping busy caring for her newborn triplet daughters, fondly and appreciatively named Eloise, Allison and Josie.
All three babies, dressed in darling little outfits and secured safely in the triple-seat stroller Eloise had given Leah at the baby shower they’d held for her at the office, were glowing with good health. Leah, too, seemed to be doing well, though she was understandably tired.
With the help of various friends she’d made at Manhattan Multiples, however, she seemed to be coping with the stress of caring for three tiny babies. And finally more confident of her own ability to take care of herself and her babies, she no longer seemed inclined to reconcile with the alcoholic and abusive husband who had left her when she was pregnant.
The only negative aspect of Eloise’s day came in the form of yet another in a series of increasingly angry anonymous letters that arrived with the afternoon mail. So far, nothing overt had happened at Manhattan Multiples as a result of the threatening letters. But they had been of enough concern to Eloise that she was grateful to have security guards.
Today’s letter included accusations that her organization in general and Eloise in particular had conspired to break up a man’s family. So the threats were coming from the husband of one of their clients, she thought, having not been completely sure until then of the letter writer’s connection to Manhattan Multiples.
But who was he, and more important, who among Manhattan Multiples’ many clients was related to him? She would be the one most in danger if the man became enraged enough to do physical harm because she would be the one normally most close at hand.
Eloise would have to ask the various staff members if they knew of anyone on Manhattan Multiples’ list of clients who might possibly be currently involved in a problematic relationship or had talked about difficulties of any kind in her marriage. She would also have to seriously consider contacting the police.
She didn’t want to panic either the staff or their clients, but neither did she want to endanger anyone by failing to take proper protective measures. The Martino brothers provided a certain degree of security. But even they could be hurt if the letter writer was as crazy as he had now begun to sound, and suddenly turned violent.
By the time Eloise had sorted through the rest of her mail, nibbling on a tuna sandwich as she scribbled responses for Allison to type, it was after three o’clock. Surprised at how fast the time had flown by, she sat back in her chair, ready to relax.
Then she remembered her request of Allison earlier to set up an appointment for her to meet with the mayor. She reached out to buzz her on the intercom, but before she could, Allison bustled into the office as quickly as her burgeoning belly would allow, a frown on her normally sunny face.
“I know, I know. I was supposed to make an appointment for you to meet with Mayor Harper,” she said, sitting wearily in one of the two wing chairs facing Eloise’s desk.
“No luck?”
“I’ve been trying for hours just to get through to his chief of staff. The receptionist kept putting me on hold, then conveniently disconnecting my call. When Wally Phillips finally deigned to speak to me, he told me the mayor was all booked up, not only today, but also every day for the next two weeks. He said there was no way Mayor Harper could spare you even five minutes of his precious time. I’m sorry, Eloise, but I’m not sure what else I can do to get you a slot on the mayor’s busy schedule.”
“Nothing that I can think of, either,” Eloise replied. “Thanks for trying, though.” She pushed away from her desk resolutely. “Now it’s time for me to take matters into my own hands.”
“How do you intend to do that?” Allison looked up at her warily.
“I’m going over to Mayor Harper’s office right now, appointment or not, and I’m going to make my presence there known to all the reporters and photographers who hang around City Hall. Mayor Harper will have to see me then or he’ll end up losing all the benefit he got from those pictures in the papers this morning. I don’t think ‘Jilted Socialite Angrily Demands Audience with Mayor’ would play well with his constituents, do you?”
“No, it most certainly wouldn’t,” Allison answered with a delighted laugh. “Shall I call the limousine service for you?”
“Why, yes, that sounds like a good idea,” Eloise agreed. “I could probably get there faster on foot at this time of day, but my arrival wouldn’t be nearly as attention getting, would it?”
“Not nearly.” Allison laughed again as she pushed out of the chair.
“Twins,” Eloise said.
“What?”
Allison paused in the doorway of Eloise’s office and eyed her with surprise.
“Twins, at least. Maybe triplets. You’re getting awfully big awfully fast, sweetie.”
“Oh, please, don’t say that,” Allison pleaded, a hint of fear in her lovely eyes. “I can’t imagine how I’m going to handle one baby, much less multiples.”
“You’ll have lots of help, of course. That’s why I started Manhattan Multiples in the first place, and that’s why I have every intention of keeping our organization going—to help you and lots of other pregnant women. But first I have to have a little talk with the mayor.”
“I’ll call the limousine service.”
“Have you thought about scheduling a sonogram with Dr. Cross?” Eloise continued, still eyeing her assistant with consideration.
“Oh, it’s way too soon.”
“Not if you’re having multiples.”
Allison, looking just a little green around the gills, rolled her eyes and hurried out of Eloise’s office, leaving Eloise the one now laughing with delight.
Chapter Four
“Yes, James, I understand how important it is to stand firm on my proposed cuts to city funding for nonprofit organizations. I wouldn’t have initiated them in the first place if I hadn’t thought they were necessary for the good of the city as a whole.”
Sitting back in his desk chair, Mayor Bill Harper barely contained a sigh of exasperation as he reassured yet another supporter that he hadn’t gone soft on special interests. James Hargrove, CEO of Power Industries, Inc.—a major company that would benefit greatly if New York City could be pulled out of its recession—seemed somewhat mollified.
“Well, you can’t blame me for being concerned, Mr. Mayor,” James replied formally, foregoing his usual Bill-old-buddy form of address to emphasize the seriousness with which he viewed their conversation. “You seemed to be getting mighty cozy with that Vale woman at the ball last night. I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s been wondering if she managed to win you over to her side of the fence. She’s one forceful little woman, from what I’ve seen, and she certainly hasn’t been shy about making her feelings known where your proposed cuts are concerned.”
“I don’t blame you at all, James. I admit I found Ms. Vale’s company most enjoyable at the ball. And yes, Ms. Vale can be a very charming and persuasive woman. But let me assure you again that my position on city funding hasn’t changed because we attended the ball together. Surely you know me well enough by now to trust my judgment.”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Mayor.”
“I appreciate your concern, James. But there’s absolutely no need for you to worry.”
“It’s important that we get this city back on its feet again, not just for a business like mine, but for the population as a whole,” Hargrove blustered, obviously eager not to appear totally self-serving.
“And that’s my main goal right now,” Bill assured him one last time. “Take care, James, and please keep in touch.”
“Will do, Mr. Mayor.”
Reaching