Lazard hated the Massots. All of them. Why wouldn’t they just go away? He thought of Sophie, how close he’d come ... so close. And now he was back here again, trying again. Lazard clenched the paper in his hand. Pierre Massot, you have gotten away with this for too long. . . .

There was a crack, and his boss burst through the door. Lazard sighed in disgust. He wished the American would go away, too.

“Goddamnit!” Stockton roared. “Have you seen the goddamn ticker lately, Lazard?”

Lazard spun on his swivel chair. He despised his new boss and today, he simply couldn’t be bothered to hide it.

“Don’t blame me for that,” he snapped. “Mayberry’s your company. I only look after Massot. And I only just got here.”

“Quit making excuses,” Stockton snarled. “I brought you in to stop the rot. Instead, we’re sinking like the Titanic in a cement overcoat.”

Lazard said softly, “I can’t do anything until you can control the story. All I hear about is Montfort Jewels.”

“I told you not to mention that bastard!” Stockton screeched. Little flecks of spittle dewed his lips. He was revolting, Lazard thought. “You’re up to your old tricks again. Treading fucking water while the competition chews you up. Sitting, collecting a paycheck. Why d’you think we targeted Massot in the first place? Because you suck.”

Lazard was tired. And bored, bored with the whole company, with that oaf Stockton, with the Massots. He wished he could send them all to hell. But he needed the money. . . .

“Then you’re going to look pretty stupid for hiring me back,” he hissed, surprised at his own venom. “And remember, you’re the one who put it on the front pages.Your hand round my shoulders—that Judy announcing me as your personal choice. Remember?”

Stockton did remember, only too well.

“This is all your fault,” Lazard said, calmly. “You’re the genius who fired Hugh Montfort . . .”

“You’d better thank your stars I did. He’d never have hired you. He held you in the same contempt I do.”

“Oh really,” sneered Gregoire. “The contempt Wall Street has for you is far greater, I’d say. Without Montfort you’ve been exposed as the talentless bully that, Monsieur, everybody always thought you were.”

“You snivelling little rat,” Stockton cursed. “I’ll have you fired, you worthless piece of shit.”

“I do not think you will.” Lazard laughed. “You fool, don’t you realize I’ll just go to the press? Tell them about this little ego trip you’re pulling, how you only keep Judy on because she’s dating the Massot boy? You’ve got bosses too. The board can fire you, and we both know that at this point you’re skating on the thinnest ice around.”