Echoes of Titanic by Mindy Starns Clark Page A

droves—and it was probably only going to get worse as the night wore on.
    They asked the security guard at the front desk to call them a cab. When it arrived, the cop manning the door escorted them out to the vehicle. After running the gauntlet of several dozen shouting voices out on the street, once they were inside the cab and speeding away toward her apartment, she was exhausted.
    â€œYou Wall Street types sure do live the exciting life,” Matt teased.
    â€œHah. Thank goodness Wall Street isn’t actually involved here. Can you imagine if Brennan & Tate were a public company instead of a private one? Then, along with all of those reporters, we’d also be dealing with an angry mob of stockholders demanding to know what’s going on and what it’ll mean to their bottom line.”
    They were quiet for a moment, watching as the cab reached the end of the street and turned right onto Battery Place.
    â€œWell,” Matt replied, “speaking as a stockholder in this privately held corporation, do you have any idea what today’s events are going to mean to the bottom line?”
    Kelsey rolled her eyes. “Leave it to the econ prof to have one eye on the numbers.”
    â€œI’m just sayin’. Unlike you, who receives an increase in shares every year that you work there, I’m pretty much capped out at my family dole of one percent.”
    â€œHey, nobody made you become a teacher instead of a businessman,” she replied, smiling. “You were perfectly welcome to join the rank and file atthe family firm if you wanted to. Still are. You certainly have the brain for numbers.”
    â€œMaybe, but with neither the patience nor the interest, that brain wasn’t going to do me much good there. Guess I far prefer theorizing about money than I do actually trying to earn it.”
    â€œAs long as Tiffany likes ramen noodles,” she teased with a shrug.
    â€œHey, Tiffany’s on the tenure track at NYU. Once we’re married, she’ll be the one bringing home the bacon.”
    â€œAnd you don’t mind being a kept man?” Kelsey asked. She was only kidding, but the moment the words came out of her mouth, she thought of Vern, who in a sense had been Gloria’s “kept man” for the past thirty years.
    â€œYeah, if I had no assets, maybe,” he replied. “But as long as I have my B & T stock, I’m not a ‘kept man.’ I’m an heir with a temporary cash flow problem.”
    Kelsey laughed. She’d forgotten how much fun Matt could be, especially when he was trying to lighten a dark mood.
    â€œWell, then, to answer your original question,” she said, “I wouldn’t exactly bank on that one percent to remain at its current value for long.” The topic was complicated, so rather than go into it there in the cab, she suggested he come up for coffee at her place and she could tell him more about it.
    Despite a small throng of reporters at Kelsey’s building when they arrived, she told the cabbie to drop them at the front door. As they mounted the steps and questions were being shouted out to them from left and right, a part of Kelsey was tempted to stop and reply. But she knew better than to field questions with words that could get twisted around or misinterpreted for the next day’s news. Instead, once she got to the top of the steps and unlocked the door, she turned and gave them a smile, an apology, and a simple statement.
    â€œGloria Poole was my business mentor and a dear friend. Along with everyone else at Brennan & Tate, I will deeply mourn her passing.”
    With that she thanked them all and went inside, Matt following along behind and closing the door in their faces. She collected her mail from the row of boxes, and then they took the elevator to the tenth floor. Once they were inside her apartment, Matt went to the TV to look for a news channel while Kelsey headed for the kitchen and