“Your new attorney, Megan. She’s impressed me. Which doesn’t happen often. Especially with lawyers.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I like her,” Ian said.
“Is she your new manager?”
“I haven’t thought beyond the festival, Kiki.”
“Well, maybe you should. You could do worse.”
“I’ll definitely take that into consideration. What were you discussing?”
“No time. Ask her. What do you need?”
“Two quickies. First, I’m concerned about people coming to the second event, expecting to hear classical music, and being disappointed.”
“Already covered with your lady lawyer. We’re billing this as a night of soft jazz. Show tunes, hits from the fifties and sixties, like that. Anyone who wants a refund is welcome. Which isn’t happening.”
“How can you be certain of that?”
“Ian, darling, there is nothing that attracts a Miami crowd like fresh scandal.” A pause. Then, “We’re thinking of shifting you to the main hall.”
He could come up with only “Oh.”
“Naturally, your attorney is demanding a second pound of flesh.” Kiki was clearly enjoying herself. “What else, dear? I’m due on a conference call with Israel Saban. Please tell me you’ve been in contact with the conductor.”
“One of the most difficult conversations I’ve had in years.”
“You deserve nothing less. Go on. Point two.”
“I would like to coordinate things so I can stay at the same hotel as a friend.”
“Oh. Is that what they’re called these days? Does this friend have a name?”
“Kari Langham.”
“Should I know her?”
“She’s an artist. Kariel.”
A silence. “It’s not nice to plant your boss on the floor.”
“She’s staying at the Ritz Carlton. Can you book me a room there?”
“You do realize this is Miami in the high season, dear.”
That was good for a pause. “You’ve never called me that before. Dear.”
“A slip of the tongue. Forget it happened. I’ll do what I can. Must run. Bye.” A pause, then, “Dear.”
