Move to Strike by Sydney Bauer Page A

hint of ingenuity – a creativity she no doubt called upon when executive-producing what this morning’s
Tribune
had described as one of the ‘most entertaining talk shows on TV’.
    â€˜I decorated it myself,’ de Castro went on. ‘With some sound advice from some very talented designers.’ She smiled as she led them up a set of stairs and towards the back of the house. ‘I spent a weekend with Francois Lecoure who gave me a tip or two,’ she added, referring to the famous French interior guru who Sara later explained to David was a designing legend with his own program on one of those popular cable channels. ‘He even helped me source some special pieces from Europe, such as the white leather lounge from Milano and the complementary hand-woven Belgian rug.’
    â€˜They’re amazing,’ said Sara.
    â€˜Yes,’ smiled de Castro, gesturing for them to take a seat on the lounge. ‘But not at all child friendly, I’m afraid.’
    â€˜So that’s why I grew up in a house where every carpet, rug and piece of furniture was black or grey or brown,’ smiled David, not sure as to how else to enter this conversation.
    â€˜Your mother sounds like a very sensible woman,’ said de Castro, as she poured them a cup of tea from the gold-rimmed pot before her.
    â€˜Let’s just say that with three kids causing constant havoc, she had no choice but to forego style for practicality.’
    A few more minutes of chitchat and a round of deli-fresh cinnamon cookies later, David had to admit he was getting a little curious about the whereabouts of Stephanie’s children. De Castro had been right; this was not exactly a ‘young-person-friendly’ residence, and he was wondering where Chelsea and J.T. Logan might be hiding.
    â€˜Chelsea and her brother are upstairs in the sitting room,’ de Castro said,as if reading his mind. ‘Watching some music video special on someone or other unplugged. They have been remarkably good . . . considering.’ She stopped there, as if not sure how to continue.
    â€˜Ms de Castro,’ David began. He did not want to offend the obviously intelligent and hospitable woman before them, but truth be told, all this politeness and pleasant conversation was starting to frustrate him. He knew de Castro was Logan’s friend but he also got the sense that she might tend to look at things more practically than emotionally which, at this point in time, could be exactly what they needed.
    â€˜We understand you and Doctor Logan are friends – and we can assure you that, as his attorneys, we only have his best interests at heart.’
    De Castro nodded, a perfunctory gesture which suggested she knew this was coming.
    â€˜But you were there last night, Ms de Castro, and I think we are safe in assuming that you realise your partner’s actions were, well, extremely altruistic to say the least.’
    â€˜David,’ she replied, placing her tea cup on its saucer before looking him directly in the eye. ‘Allow me to begin by getting one thing straight. I have known Jeffrey for a very long time, and while I am dedicated to helping him as much as possible, I also – as do you – see things as they
are
rather than the way that I wish them to be.
    â€˜I am a selfish woman by nature, David. You do not become as successful as I have in the industry that I work in being otherwise. In fact, I spent the better part of the morning on the telephone to the network CEO trying to salvage our professional future, and I am not ashamed to admit it.
    â€˜But this morning, much to my surprise,’ de Castro went on, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, her bracelets jingling as they fell down towards her wrist, ‘I discovered that I am not the hardened executive I thought myself to be. For while I could have, and probably
should
have, described to my bosses the situation as I knew it, I