Rachel From the Edge Pt. 07

Rachel From the Edge Pt. 07

by G. Lawrence

Rachel is thrust into the limelight

Having attended Daniel Benson's funeral, Rachel must now appear at the reception, being revealed to the public for the first time since the scandal broke. But before that, we get a flashback of who Danny Benson was, and more importantly, Sheila Marbury, who will play a large role in future episodes. This section continues to explore the aftermath of Benson's sudden death and the surrounding scandal. All characters are over 18 years old.

* * * * * *

Chapter Seven

AULD LANG SYNE

Danny Benson walked down the long wooden pier toward the yacht anchored at the end. It was a graceful forty-foot sloop named Catarina's Moon. He found Sheila Marbury on the top deck sunning herself in a skimpy black bikini. In her mid-thirties, she was looking great, with an ample bustline, thin waist, shapely hips, and long slinky legs. She liked wearing her black hair short and curly.

"Here I am, Sheba. As promised," Daniel said, sitting on a towel next to her. He removed a pint of Old Forester from his coat pocket, then stripped down to his boxer shorts, folding the clothes neatly. Dozens of boats in various sizes were docked all around them.

"I'm needed back at the office this afternoon," he apologized.

"You've been working out," Sheila observed, squeezing his arm.

Daniel was clean shaven, the square jaw firm. His vivid hazel eyes offset his gradually graying amber hair. He opened the bourbon and handed her the bottle.

"To old friends," Sheila said, taking a taste and handing the bottle back.

"To old friends," Daniel said, as if saying goodbye.

"I've suspected this for a while, so don't think I'm surprised."

"No one is more surprised than I am," Daniel said.

"As much as I'd like to hate her, Rachel is a sweet girl. Though we both know that's not what this is about."

"Trying to trick me into revealing my evil plan?"

"Maybe you don't know what I know?"

"Ah, but I know how to make you tell me everything, don't I?" he threatened with a smirk.

"I'm guessing those days are behind us. How much do you want for her?"

"What?"

"How much do you want for Rachel? You can keep banging her. Nothing wrong with that. How much to let her work for Houston Inquisitors?"

"Who's been talking?"

"Come on, Danny, I'm in the business, too. How stupid do you think I am? Dr. Borowski sends you this wunderkind from Harvard. You build a lab for her. You come up with a last-minute Hail Mary to save Cameron-Dyson. Then you rescue the Pascale Case. And Winsford, magically finding files no one else even suspected. So, to secure your claim on her, you show Rachel the ropes. Literally. And now she's designing new networks for you. Cutting edge stuff. At Houston Inquisitors, they'd give Rachel her own department. A staff. They'd start her at half a million a year and a share of the profits."

"I'm not selling her," Daniel said.

"What can you offer her that H. I. can't?"

"I asked Rachel to marry me."

Now Sheila was surprised.

"Congratulations. Rachel must be very excited?"

"She said no."

"No? I don't think you've ever heard that word from a woman before."

"It's rare."

Sheila handed him the suntan lotion and rolled over on the towel.

"Okay, Danny, protect me from the sun and tell me the whole story."

Daniel spread the lotion on her back, enjoying the firm flesh, then added some to his nose and shoulders.

"It sort of crept up on me. I always thought she was hot, but that a quick roll in the hay would cure me. By the time she finally gave in, that's not what it was anymore."

"If I thought Rachel was that devious, and I don't, she'd have made a good Henry out of you."

"History or romance novel?"

"Both. Henry VIII became infatuated with a young woman at court named Anne Boleyn. He wanted her, but she said no. Not without marriage. Henry turned his kingdom upside down to get a divorce from Katherine of Aragon. And the longer Anne put him off, the more fervent Henry became."

"I haven't turned any kingdoms upside down for her," he protested.

"Want to go below deck and have sex? Right now?" Sheba invited, wiggling her hips.

"I can't cheat on her. It would break her heart."

"Kingdom overturned, Henry."

"It's not just about keeping her at M & B. It was, in the beginning. Even when I first proposed, I wasn't completely sincere. Now I can't imagine going to work and her not being there. Seeing her get mad at the computer for not being fast enough. For attacking an egg because it didn't cook according to specifications. To watch her come out of a haze and smile to see me, like it's the greatest thing in the world."

"You've got it bad."

"I do, and I don't even know how it happened."

Sheila sat up, pulled Daniel close, and put her head against his shoulder.

"I'm happy for you, Danny. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm going to propose again. Pull out all the stops. And then I'll have a decision to make."

"First of all, don't go pulling out too many stops for Rachel. She's not that kind of girl. Keep it simple. Honest. She responds to that best."

"What do you know about Rachel?"

"I've been to her lab. Told her I was a friend of Danny Benson's and just wanted to visit."

"Then you've seen what she does?"

"I've seen what she does, but I have no idea what it is, or how she does it. And that's not why I was there. I wanted to learn your secrets, not spy on her. I found Rachel to be cute, curious, and slightly crazy. Probably a mild mental disorder. Sometimes that's the drawback of a high intelligence. What's her IQ? 180? 185?"

"No one really knows for sure."

"What's your second problem?"

"It's as you say, Rachel is confined by what she does at M & B. All we do is forensic accounting, and she's capable of much more. She's been working on a plan to ... Well, big plans. I don't want to hold her back, but I don't want to lose her, either."

"What does Rachel say?"

"I haven't said anything yet. I don't want her tempted."

"Hell, Danny, I didn't know you were such an idiot," Sheila said, slapping him on the shoulder. She took a swig of the Old Forester, trying not to laugh at him.

"What's the joke?" he asked.

"Rachel knows she has other opportunities. I spoke with her about Houston Inquisitors a couple of months ago, and told her that if she doesn't like H. I., I'd find her something just as good. She stays at M & B because of you, not because she doesn't have choices."

"I want her to have choices, but only after saying yes to me first."

"What do your kids say?"

"Why is everyone so worried about my goddamn kids? They don't ask my approval for who they sleep with."

"What about Pammy?"

"Clueless, as usual. I don't think she knows Rachel exists."

"Ollie?"

"He hasn't been talking to me much lately. Got a burr in his saddle."

"Danny, I think Rachel's going to say yes the next time. She is mad dog in love with you. And whether she gets a bigger lab and a staff, or keeps what she has, you're going to make her happy. That's what's important."

"I should have married you ten years ago, but I wasn't ready to divorce Pam. I'm sorry."

"We have something just as good now, don't we? How many women do you have as friends? Best friends?"

"Only you."

"That's makes me special, doesn't it?"

"It sure does."

He kissed her, gently and with affection. But not with lust.

Chapter Eight

THE RECEPTION

The social gathering afterwards was more spirited than the funeral, perhaps because of the free food and drinks. Calderón's Restaurant in Marina del Rey was reserved exclusively for the occasion. As the oldest son, John was officially the host, though no one doubted Pamela was in charge. Selected columnists were allowed to attend. Those who promised to play nice. Scottish Highlanders had been hired to perform Daniel's favorite ballads.

"There must be hundreds of people here," Rory said, pushing Rachel's wheelchair through a rear door. "Is this okay for you? If you're tired, Sam can take you home. Rachel? Rach?"

Rory stopped behind the drapes near the main stage. Rachel had a faraway look in her eyes. For a moment, they looked gray rather than brown, though Rory knew it must be the lighting.

"Rachel?" Rory said, taking her hand. "Rachel. Rachy. Rach."

"Ro?" Rachel answered, gradually present.

"Where were you?"

"Working on a puzzle," Rachel said. "This looks exciting. Daniel brought me here for dinner a few times. Will there be dancing?"

"Can you even get out of that chair?"

"Don't bet against it," Rachel said, peeking through the curtains.

Rory realized the real Rachel had woken up. She was suddenly spunky and curious. Eager and engaged. Her big eyes were gazing at the gathering in wonderment. Rory thought she looked very cute. Not in a childish way, though Rory saw how some could think that. It was Rachel's way of living life during those rare moments she was allowed to enjoy it.

"I need to talk to you about mother," Rory said, glancing around to make sure no one could hear them. "She's been under a lot of stress. She's scared, even if you can't see it. Sometimes she uses people to get what she wants."

Rachel twisted in the wheelchair, trying to adjust the wool blanket where it had bunched up underneath her. Rory knelt to help.

"Well?" Rory said.

"Well, what?" Rachel asked.

"About my mother?"

"Rory, I know what your mother needs. I'm doing my best to give it to her."

"Then you know?"

"I know that when I was heartbroken and wanted to die, your mother saved my life. She provided for my mother, lifting a huge burden. I have a warm home until I get better, and a kitchen filled with food. And the ring Daniel wanted to give me. That's what I know about your mother. The rest isn't important."

"You can be very decided," Rory said.

"I do the math."

"This night could get crazy, but I think you're up for it."

They found John at their table to the right of the stage. Close to private security if needed. The music would be starting soon. Waiters were serving the cobb salad.

"Everything okay?" John asked.

"Better than okay. Rachel wants dancing," Rory answered.

"I get the first one," John said, nodding gallantly.

Pamela and Oliver arrived, taking seats as their waitress brought a fine California white wine. Pamela offered some to Rachel, but Rory said no.

"You're looking perky, girl," Pamela said, seeing the bright light in Rachel's eyes.

"It's exciting. Thank you so much for inviting me," Rachel said.

"Thank you for being so brave at the funeral. We might need bravery here, too," Pamela warned.

They saw Rachel turn toward the other tables, active with relatives, business associates, Daniel's employees, and the press. Rory noticed it wasn't a casual inspection. Rachel seemed to be scanning them, absorbing data and analyzing details.

"This will be fun," Rachel said.

The salads were good. Rachel ate more than Rory expected. When John said Rachel's salads were better, she smiled. They leaned heads together, talking too quietly for others to hear. John was grinning. Rachel laughed.

"What kind of spice are you putting in that girl's soup?" Pamela whispered to Rory.

"Mom, you've really got no clue who you're dealing with," Rory replied.

Family members stopped by to offer condolences. Rachel acknowledged them with quiet nods, shy smiles, and a few grateful words. Otherwise, she merely observed. Most who met her reached the conclusion that Rachel was a meek, pleasant young woman, maligned by a vicious media. The friendship that was obvious between her and Rory, and even Pamela, warned doubters to tread softly.

Between the salad and the grilled salmon, they heard William causing a ruckus from the far side of the room. Crude remarks were shouted. They heard breaking glass. Pamela was displeased.

"He promised to mind his manners," Pamela said. "I'm very sorry about this."

"No, Mom, it's okay," Rory said. "Let Billy make an ass of himself. Every family needs a fool."

"He isn't allowed to embarrass me," Pamela said, jumping up and taking Oliver with her.

Rory thought Rachel would be distressed to hear such ugly things thrown at her, but she seemed to be taking it in stride.

"People work out their pain in different ways," Rachel said, stealing Pamela's wine. "I've turned mine inward so long, it's like a rope around my heart. It's good William can vent."

"It doesn't bother you?" John asked.

"It's nothing I didn't think myself."

"You still don't believe those things, do you?" John said. Rachel hesitated, toying with the ring. It wasn't a simple question.

"I know the press, and others, are just saying things to get attention," Rachel replied. "But--"

"But nothing, Rach. It's all bullshit. All of it," Rory insisted.

"What they say hurts, doesn't it?" John asked. Rachel lowered her head, sipping the wine.

"Rory says your father's death wasn't my fault," Rachel finally replied. "I need to trust her."

Despite her attempt to be brave, neither Rory nor John thought Rachel was dealing with it that well. It had them worried.

William was given one last chance, which he wisely exercised. But words had been spoken.

Not long after Pamela returned, columnist Ruth Sparrow took a seat at the table. John had met Mrs. Sparrow before, knowing her to be an old-school journalist. In her mid-sixties, gray-haired and projecting a grandmotherly image, her column was widely read by a cross-section of the country. A power she enjoyed.

"Pam, what do you think of Billy's rant?" Ruth asked, using a pencil to take notes.

"Do you mean the part about Miss Montgomery being a fortune hunting whore after Danny's money?" Pamela said.

"That kind of sums it up," Ruth confirmed.

"Thank you so much for asking, dear," Pamela replied, offering a glass of wine. And discovering her own glass missing. "And congratulations on your new grandchild. I'm sure he's a sweetie.

"Now let's see how this stacks up. Billy Benson is a spoiled trust-fund baby who's never worked a day in his life. Daniel's fiancée was top of her class at Harvard. On a scholarship. Working part-time to support herself. Billy has two DUI's and a misdemeanor assault conviction. Rachel has never been accused of jaywalking. Billy is scorned by every girlfriend he's ever had, and there have been a lot of them. Rachel's only had one love, and she was loyal to him until the day he died. Billy says he has the best lawyer in Baton Rouge. Rachel has my son John representing her, the best lawyer in Boston."

"Johnny? You are Miss Montgomery's lawyer?" Ruth asked.

"My father was specific about what he wanted for my client, and my father's wishes will be respected," John said. "I will use the full extent of the law to defend Miss Montgomery's rights."

"Miss Montgomery? Rachel, if I may?" Ruth said. "Nothing is ever heard from you. What do you think of all this?"

Rachel seemed surprised to be asked a question, looking like she wanted to hide. When Rory saw Rachel shiver, she rushed to bring the wool blanket off the wheelchair, wrapping it around her shoulders. Ruth noticed the grateful look in Rachel's eyes.

"Don't be afraid, dear. Ruth and I are old friends," Pamela said.

"More like friendly rivals," Ruth confessed. "I write what I see. Nothing more and nothing less."

"I am not accustomed to so much attention," Rachel hesitantly said. "I work in my lab. I go home and read my novels. Or some dreary report. I like cooking. No one has ever cared what I think."

"Now the whole world is interested in you," Ruth pressed.

"They should be interested in someone more interesting," Rachel replied.

"The death of Daniel Benson. The manner of it. Has--"

"Ruth! That's out of line!" Pamela interrupted.

"It's part of the story. The juiciest part of the story. The bloggers have had their say. Isn't it time Rachel has hers?"

"It's all right, Mrs. Benson," Rachel said, speaking slowly so Ruth could keep better notes. "Daniel was very kind to me. Between my mother's illness and difficulties at work, I was always under so much stress. Daniel would play innocent games with me as a way to get my mind off my troubles, and I loved him for it. What happened was an awful thing."

"Danny Benson had quite a reputation," Ruth hinted.

"He was a very attractive man," Rachel agreed.

"You had plans to marry?"

Rachel played with the engagement ring, and then wiped a tear with her sleeve. She wasn't crying, just remembering.

"Daniel proposed to me, and I wanted to marry him. I wanted that very much."

"His death must have been terribly hard for you. Emotionally. Physically. And what followed. Your illness. The media."

"I'm having a difficult time," Rachel admitted. "But Rory has been such a good friend. I would be lost without her. And Mrs. Benson has been very kind. I'm sure everything will be okay."

"You are so brave," Ruth said.

"I try to be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, and faithful in prayer."

"Romans 12:12," Ruth said. "Are you a student of the Bible?"

"I know it by heart."

"America will learn the truth now. Tell me, what's it like living at Canby Place?"

"It's different than 14th Street."

Ruth drew Rachel aside, hunching over and speaking in hushed tones for more than twenty minutes. Pamela had not seen Ruth so excited in years, gesturing often and sometimes laughing.

As the main course was being cleared away, Pamela moved next to Rory, stealing her wine glass.

"Rachel nailed that interview," Pamela whispered. "Ruth is dancing on air. Except for Billy, this night is turning out great."

"Is it good to have a partner in crime?" Rory asked.

"A who-what?"

"Come on. Rachel is giving you everything you could possibly want. She'd kiss your feet if she could get down on the floor."

"I know. I really like that about her."

"Mom!"

"Will you give me a break? Do you know the pressure I've been under? Your father took care of everything these last few years, and I've had to go back to school. Investors, the board of directors, budgets, the press. Lawyers. The will. And of all the problems I could have had, Rachel would have been the worst. The scandal would have devastated everything. It would have hurt me. Hurt our family. And yet here she is. Docile. Compliant. Forgiving. Do you have any idea how much I appreciate that? I tell you, darling, I will kiss her feet any time she wants."

Wow, Rory thought. Rachel did the math.

People danced after dinner, listening to bagpipes and clicking heels to Celtic folk songs, known to be Daniel's favorite. Oliver and several old friends cried as they sang Danny Boy. Rachel danced by standing on John's feet while he held her. But not all was peaceful. When Bobby Marbury started to repeat the joke about hands being tied behind her back, Rory invited her cousin outside and pushed him into the harbor.

Pamela also had a brief scare, though she didn't know what to make of it. Returning from the restroom, she found Sheila Marbury kneeling next to Rachel, looking very friendly. Pamela had no idea they knew each other. When Sheila saw Pamela coming, she snuck off into the crowd.

Two dances were all Rachel had energy for, much to her disappointment. John helped her out to the boardwalk where they rested on a bench. A thousand lights lit the harbor as the boats bobbed at their moorings. Clouds drifted past a three-quarter moon.

"Thank you for the dancing, Mr. Benson," Rachel said, slightly out of breath. She wore a warm goose-down jacket at Rory's insistence.

"You should call me John. You're almost part of the family."

Rachel was quiet at that.

"I wasn't officially your lawyer when I said that to Mrs. Sparrow."

"I was never officially your stepmother," Rachel answered, making him laugh.

"Then you're my client?"

"Rory already made that decision for me."

"You've gotten very close."

"I've never had a close friend before. I don't know how she puts up with me."

"What is this about your family? If I may ask?"

"My father is dead. My mother no longer has lucid moments. Dementia."

"Your father beat you?"

"Let's not talk about that."

"No brothers or sisters? Aunts or uncles?"

"No."

"This condition of yours? These numbers?"

"I realize I'm strange, Mr. Benson. It's not contagious."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I know," she said, poking fun at him.

"If you could have anything you want out of this, what would it be?"

"To go back to my lab."

"Anything else?"

"Food."

"You're not difficult to please."

"I wouldn't say that."

"Please consider me your attorney. We'll draw up papers."

"I don't have any money."

"We'll worry about that later," John said.

Guests were beginning to leave, having work on Monday. Several young men stopped by Rachel's table to say goodnight, finding the reserved young woman intriguing. Not what they expected.

"Time to go home? You're looking tired," Rory asked.

"Oh, no. Not yet. We haven't seen the finale," Rachel said.

"Finale?" Rory wondered.

"What worries your mother most?" Rachel mentioned.

"The investors," Rory realized.

"I don't blame her," John said. "Dad cast a big shadow. Without him, no one is sure what might happen. If Marbury & Benson fails, it could undermine Benson Conglomerates. Mom's Marbury holdings could take a hit. Ours, too."

"Those companies are worth billions," Rory said.

"Market psychology can be fickle," John warned. "If the insiders start selling off, there's no telling what might happen."

"What do you think, Rach?" Rory asked.

"I don't know about financial stuff. I only know math."

"What's this finale you're talking about?" Rory said.

The answer was soon apparent.

"Ro, look," John said.

They saw Pamela with a group of six distinguished men and women coming in their direction, taking seats around the table. All were nicely dressed and appeared wealthy. Rachel remembered Daniel talking about them. With the dining hall growing empty, they would have some privacy.

"Rachel, here are several very generous investors in Benson Conglomerates. They want to meet you," Pamela introduced.

"Hello," Rachel said, dipping her head. She brushed her hair back, eyes gliding from face to face with welcoming curiosity. Rory thought Rachel looked as engaged as she'd been the entire evening and wondered where the energy was coming from.

"We're glad to see you feeling better, Miss Montgomery. Is there anything we can do for you?" the more prominent of the men said. It was Saul Barrington, one of Daniel's fellow billionaires. Rachel liked his gray whiskers.

"No, sir. Thank you," Rachel said.

They waited for her to elaborate, but she just quietly smiled.

"May we ask what plans you have for M & B, now that you own Daniel's share?" an elegant white-haired woman asked. Her name was Minnow. Named after some sort of boat.

"I have no plans, ma'am. Mrs. Benson has graciously offered to administer my interests. I'm very indebted to her."

"You anticipate no changes? How do you think Daniel's passing will affect the company's prospects?" Saul asked.

Rachel looked to Pamela, as if waiting for instructions. Which everyone noticed. Pamela held her breath, wondering what to do. If the investors got a bad impression, it would be disastrous. But Rachel had been steady all day, ready for each new challenge. She nodded, taking the gamble.

"Marbury & Benson is a fine organization," Rachel said. "We'll miss Daniel, but the new innovations will protect the company's future."

"Daniel hinted at some great discovery, but was vague with the details," a younger man hinted. He was good-looking and somewhat thin, with eager blue eyes. They called him Skinner, though Rachel didn't know if it was a first name, last name, or nickname.

"Cameron-Dyson," Rachel said.

"How's that?" Skinner said, straightening up. They all straightened up.

"Cameron-Dyson was a test of our new methodology," Rachel said. "The matrix was able to recover several lost files."

"Everybody said those files were inaccessible. That they didn't even exist," Minnow suggested.

"That doesn't mean the files couldn't be found," Rachel answered. "I understand the documentation helped Daniel's client win an important judgement."

"Close to a billion dollars," Skinner recalled.

"The next case will be bigger," Rachel said, as if it was a forgone conclusion.

"How was that accomplished?" Minnow inquired.

"I can't say," Rachel replied.

"You don't know?" Skinner asked.

"I most certainly do know, Mr. Skinner. I just can't say," Rachel replied with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

The table grew quiet as the investors studied the late Danny Benson's girlfriend. This was no empty-headed trollop. They could see her mind working. There was a gravity about her that none would have suspected.

"We aren't allowed to divulge proprietary secrets," Pamela said, still not knowing what those secrets were. "But you should all know, confidentially, that Rachel is the world's foremost expert in this field. Daniel didn't just love her for her amazing looks, but for her extraordinary talent. Rachel is so smart, half the time we don't even know what she's talking about."

"Can you give us a clue?" Saul requested, with respect.

"I would not wish to bore anyone," Rachel teased.

"Please indulge us," Skinner said, moving his chair closer.

Everyone leaned forward, captivated by the message and the messenger. Again, Rachel looked to Pamela before answering.

"M & B's forensic accounting department is seeking to access data on a quantum spectrum," Rachel explained. "It's just a matter of finding a balance between fractal interfacing and disassociated layering."

"I don't know what that means," Saul said.

"I don't either, and I majored in computer studies," Skinner said.

Rachel sighed, seeking a way to explain complex concepts to school children.

"We know from the work of Lavoisier and Mayer that matter and energy can neither be created nor destroyed. Professor Einstein showed that matter and energy interconvert. Dr. Pauli demonstrated that this conversion leaves a quantum signature. These signatures are detectable through fractal interfacing. MFI searches for these signatures, breaks the tracks down into comprehensible equations, and extrapolates the data through a series of layering techniques that sort superfluous structures from the desired resolution."

"Really? That simple?" Minnow said, getting a laugh.

"This is still tough to grasp," Spencer Johnson said, scratching his head. He looked a little like Saul, but fifteen years younger, with broad shoulders and a handball player's physique. His brown beard was streaked with gray, as was his curly hair.

They saw Rachel struggling with her thoughts. She reached for a glass of water, taking a sip as she sought to organize herself.

"Everything this information society has ever digitally produced is still out there in the continuum," Rachel said. "MFI is an investigative tool that exploits quantum mechanics to resurrect desired signatures."

"I almost understand that," Skinner said. "Like recovering data thought to be erased from a hard drive."

"Data cannot be erased from a hard drive. It's a myth," Rachel said.

"And this thing works?" Saul asked.

"Portions of the program are still experimental, but so far, the results have proven satisfactory. This is why Mr. Benson hired me, and I have no intention of failing him."

The investors saw the hard set to her jaw. The determined expression. There was no boasting in her demeanor, just a strong woman who knew what she wanted and intended to get it.

"Miss Montgomery must be tired. It's been a long day," Rory said, taking Rachel's hand. Rachel gave it a hopeful squeeze.

"One last question," Saul said. "There's a rumor Pamela wants to buy out your share of the company. If she can't steal it from you. How would that affect your involvement with M & B?"

Pamela was embarrassed, but no one thought the question unfair. A barrage of recent business journals had speculated about her ambitions.

"Mrs. Benson has been very kind to me," Rachel replied. "I'll do whatever she tells me to do."

"Saul? Minnow?" Pamela said.

"I'm satisfied," Saul decided, looking to see if the others agreed.

"The last time I saw Danny at O'Casey's, he was bragging about a new breakthrough," Skinner remembered. "I just didn't know Miss Montgomery was the power behind the throne."

Rachel looked shocked.

"No one has accused me of that before. Though they've accused me of other things," she responded.

"None of us believe that tripe," Saul said. And meaning it.

"Get well quickly, dear," Minnow said. "We look forward to seeing you at the next board meeting."

"Me?" Rachel nervously said.

"Rachel will be there," Pamela affirmed. "And the next time she describes our new program, maybe she'll speak English."

"Maybe it's better that she doesn't," Saul suggested. "If we don't know what it is, the competition won't know either."

"That sounds like Daniel talking," Minnow said.

"I'm going to miss the son of a bitch," Saul said. "And we still need to pay tribute. Miss Montgomery will stay for the farewell toast, won't she?"

"Yes," Rachel said before Rory spoke for her.

Saul waved to a servant, who rushed over with a whiskey bottle and a tray of shot glasses. Saul poured the drinks himself.

"Savor it, ladies and gentlemen," Saul said. "Michter's Single Old Barrel. Danny's favorite."

There were actually several rounds and another bottle, though Rory tried to stop Rachel from more than a few sips. As the mood relaxed, everyone began telling Daniel stories, not all of them for younger audiences. Oliver spoke of their hellion days at Yale. Saul recalled a crazy night in Las Vegas. Pamela spoke of their first trip to Paris. Rachel mentioned her first meeting with Daniel, longingly describing how handsome he was. For an old guy. And the time they saw Pride & Prejudice on Broadway. Rachel said it was usually she who fell asleep during a show, not poor Daniel. She smiled often, even at the sad memories.

"Guess there's no doubt why he fell for you," Skinner said, leaning across the table.

"Daniel liked pretty girls," Rachel shyly replied.

"Yes, but he didn't give them engagement rings," Minnow said, pointing at Rachel's finger.

Rachel wanted to hear more stories, but Rory said it was enough. She helped Rachel into the wheelchair and went looking for the limo. Pamela and Saul were soon left alone.

"You know what you've got, don't you?" Saul whispered.

"What we've got," Pamela answered.

"Is that what Danny's games were all about? Keeping control of that naïve child?"

"Let's not speak ill of the dead, Saul. Danny did what he did."

"You seem to have stepped right into his place."

"I think maybe I should resent that. What are you implying?"

"Not that you're sleeping with her. Rory, maybe."

"No one is sleeping with her. She's recovering from pneumonia."

"This isn't coming from a negative place, Pam. Assets like Rachel are rare, and she clearly needs your help. I'm just wondering what the long-term plan is."

"Old friend, I don't have a long-term plan. A week ago, I was helping the press crucify that poor girl, and now I can't imagine getting through this without her."

* * * * * *

Rachel has survived the funeral, but she's entering a new world without any of the necessary skills. Without Daniel as her anchor, will she find herself adrift?