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that?”
    “Come on, you think Americans are the only ones on the Internet?”
    “Point taken.”
     
    “I’ve printed out all of the articles about your business conquests. And I must say, it looks like you are in a prime position to make a run at surpassing the real-estate legacy of your father. Which I must add would be no simple feat.”
    This comment resonated with me. Love him or hate him, my father was a real-estate beast. I couldn’t help but feel complimented by the comparison.
    “Easy there, Stalker,” I shot back. “Why the fuck you so interested anyway? I make tollbooth change compared to you.”
    “It’s not about the money, Jonah. I keep up with you because it helps me feel connected. It’s like e-mailing without actually having to e-mail.”
    I didn’t quite get the analogy. Still don’t.
    “How’s your mother these days?” I asked.
    “She’s terrific. Thanks for asking. Tell you what, I know it’s last minute, but why don’t you clear your schedule and we can talk over dinner.”
    “Dinner?”
    “I’m in New York, Jonah.”
    I quietly motioned to Jake to close the door. Then I sat down.
    “What are you talking about? You’re here?”
    “I got into town last night.”
    “Business, I take it.”
    “As a matter of fact it is business. I came here to talk with you.”
    “About what?”
    “Let’s for now just say that my firm is looking to branch out in some new directions that concern your industry. It’s not that I desire to be so vague, but I’m not comfortable discussing the matter over phone lines so early in the process.”
    “Fair enough.”
    “I hate to impose, but I promise that it will be worth your while.”
    I leaned forward and glanced at my Outlook schedule: Drinks with M. Tate were slated for that evening.
    “I know you’re a busy man,” he continued, “but how often do I get to—”
    I cut him off. A guy of Andreu Zhamovsky’s stature and influence is the type of individual you do your best not to disappoint.
    “Don’t be silly. I’m looking at my schedule right now. I’m fine for tonight.”
    “Excellent. That’s just great. I don’t want you to have to go to any trouble so I’ll pick the place and call you back this afternoon.”
    “That’s fine. I’m actually going to be out of the office all afternoon so just leave word with my assistant, Carolyn. I’ll tell her to expect your call.”
    A few seconds later I hit the speaker button again and he was gone. Jake and I blankly stared at one another.
    “What the fuck was that?” he asked.
    “I have no idea. Is Carolyn in yet?”
    Carolyn was often in extra early — something I rewarded her generously for at the end of each year. She did this for me because she knew it helped me to organize my day.
    “I think I just saw her walk by, toward her desk.”
    I hit speaker and dialed Carolyn’s extension.
    “Good morning, Jonah.”
    “Good morning, sunshine. I need you to call Tate’s office for me. I need you to let him know that I can’t meet him this evening. And when you can, check Perry’s, Jake’s, and Tommy’s schedules for me. I need them all to be free and clear first thing tomorrow morning.”
    “I already see that Perry has an eight o’clock breakfast with Jerry Winkler.”
    “Reschedule it. I have a feeling we’re going to need a closed-door session.”

Chapter 5
    At 8:15 p.m. I walked into Sushi Samba on Park South, between 20th and 21st. The place was a bit passé, but I figured I’d give my foreign friend a break. Anyway, the joint was packed.
    “May I help you this evening?”
    “Jonah Gray. There’s going to be two of us tonight. Has—”
    The hostess cut me off.
    “Of course, Mr. Gray. The rest of your party is having a drink at the back bar.”
    My eyes made their way past the centrally located sushi bar all the way to a small gathering at the back of the room. The wet bar unfortunately consisted of only five stools with thirty-five young hotshots looking to