Lost and Found by Ginny L. Yttrup

glass and drains it. He turns, pulls the bottle out of the ice bucket, and tops off Brigitte's glass. "Andee?"
    "No, thank you. I'm working."
    He fills his glass and places the bottle back in the bucket. "Let's put this aside for a moment. There's other business I want to discuss before we launch into these types of decisions. Andee, as you know, I will be taking over Domaine de la Bouvier at some point. It seems we should begin that shift sooner rather than later. Especially if we're considering going public and acquiring additional assets. Before that happens, we need to establish new leadership, alert the press, etc. This type of restructuring would be the natural outflow of new leadership."
    I look at Brigitte. Her silence tells me all I need to know. I'm to take the fall here.
    "I disagree." I see Gerard's chin lift as he braces for a battle. "Investors want stability. A shift in leadership before going public wouldn't be wise. The strength of Domaine de la Bouvier, beyond its holdings, is that it's a known entity. Both you and Brigitte are known in the community, here and in France. Your roles are established. Your product has proven itself. And with new leadership comes new possibilities. While a business needs to grow and flex with the times, during an economic crunch, your best bet is to remain steady."
    Before Gerard has a chance to respond, Brigitte speaks up. "I'd like a meeting with Bill and Jason. If they're ready to sell, it's time to talk details."
    I expect Gerard to interrupt. To reclaim the conversation. Instead, he signals for the waiter. "We're ready for lunch." His tone is tight. He picks up his glass, which the waiter refills, and leans back in his chair. Apparently, he's removed himself from the conversation.
    The man is so weak it's disgusting. I turn my attention back to Brigitte. "As I said, timing is important for the Azul deal. I'd advise you to wait to meet. I'll let you know when the time is right."
    " You would know, wouldn't you?" Gerard throws back another swallow of wine.
    His implication is clear—that I have inside information. I'm walking a fine line here, I know. I feel the rush of potential, the thrill of an impending deal. A substantial deal.
    As lunch is served, I breathe in satisfaction. Life continues to unfold just as I've planned.
    IT'S ALMOST 10:00 P.M. when I return home from the studio where I prerecorded several segments of my radio program. Wired and restless, I kick off my heels, feed Sam, and then go through the pile of mail Cassidy left on my desk. Included in the pile is the current issue of Urbanity . I take it to the sofa, stretch out, and I thumb through the magazine and read restaurant reviews, and skim articles addressing the arts, city issues, and a feature on the ecosystem of Golden Gate Park. Whatever. Nothing holds my attention for long, until I come to the Buzz page where five columns list five reviews each written by an individual reviewer: film, book, blog, album, and exhibit. The critiques are short enough to hold my meandering mind captive for the fifteen seconds it takes to scan each one.
    The film is foreign—no thanks, I don't do subtitles.
    The book, a memoir on ADHD, doesn't interest me, though, tonight, maybe I should consider reading it.
    The exhibit is pretty mainstream for Urbanity—The Van Gogh, Gaugin, Cezanne and Beyond exhibit at the DeYoung. Been there, done that.
    The album is retro '70s psychedelic folk. Really?
    I land on the blog review.
    "Illuminate me!" is the cry of this blogger. On a spiritual journey to enlightenment, the city is a-Buzz wondering which local is penning, or keying rather, the anonymous blog www.iluminar.me. Known only as [email protected], the author chronicles her life of privilege—the angst (give us a break), the abuse (really? Do tell), and the spiritual (ho-hum). Here's what we know: She's infected (AIDS?), she's desperate (poor baby), and she's gearing up, we're guessing, for a revolt