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upset, Lydia. John’s mother thinks I’m after his money. She wants me out of his life. She absolutely hates it that he works here. He’s what they call in the business the ‘outside man,’ you know? He deals with all the
stuff
, so I can concentrate on design. Anyway, I’m hoping if my line takes off and I have money of my own, maybe she’ll feel better about me.”
    “Is he … is it a problem between you that his mother feels that way?”
    “Oh, no. John cares less about it than I do. He says let’s just get married, and the hell with her. But I don’t want to do it that way. My mother-in-law. I’d like to get along with her if I can. Am I making sense?”
    I smiled. “To me.”
    She smiled also. “I thought so, and I’m glad. Andrew and I have talked about it, and he gets it, but John just doesn’t.”
    “I think,” I said, trying to be cross-culturally understanding, “that where he comes from, ‘mother-in-law’ carries a different meaning.”
    “I guess so,” she agreed. “But anyway, that’s not why I asked you to come up. I’m sorry. I really don’t like it when other people assume their personal problems are interesting to me, and here I am acting as though mine are interesting to you.”
    “But they are,” I told her. “That’s why I’m in this business. Everything about everybody is interesting to me.”
    “Really? I’m not sure if that makes you lucky or unlucky.”
    “Me either. But the more I know about you the more likely I am to be able to help solve your problem.”
    “Well, I don’t think knowing what my future mother-in-law thinks of me is going to be much help in getting my sketches back. But what I wanted to talk to you about was Wayne.”
    “Because you think he might be behind this.”
    “He could. He’d know what to take, and he’d know this kind of threat would work, at just this point in my career. After all, it had to be someone in the industry. I didn’t think he hated me that much, but old wounds grow over time, don’t they?” Genna didn’t look at me as she said that.
    “Have you had any contact with him since he left?”
    She shook her head. “I didn’t even get a call for a reference. I was kind of glad about that. I don’t know what I would have said.”
    “Do you know where to find him?”
    “I have his home address. He works out of his apartment.”
    Genna got up to get the address for me. As she did, the studio door opened to admit three people in joking conversation. A thin, short-haired woman sipped something iced through a straw between her bright red lips. A broad-shouldered, goateed young man withthree earrings up the side of his left ear flopped down at the front desk. That must be Brad, I thought. And John Ryan, glancing into the conference room out of what seemed like habit, stopped when he saw us. The smile fell from his face. He stepped into the room. Softly he said to Genna, “They called?”
    “No.”
    The conference room had a sliding glass door; John pulled it shut.
    “They didn’t call?”
    “No.”
    “Then … ?” John looked from Genna to me, obviously waiting for an explanation of my presence.
    “I asked Lydia to come up,” Genna said. “I wanted to tell her about Wayne.” Her manner seemed defiant to me, almost defensive.
    “Wayne? Wayne Lewis?” John raised his eyebrows. “Well, I think you’re barking up the wrong tree with that one, but go ahead. Do you need me? I have some calls to make.”
    Genna shook her head. John kissed her, smiled at me, and left.
    “He didn’t say it was ridiculous,” I told Genna after the sliding glass door was shut again.
    “No. But he doesn’t believe it.”
    “Why not?”
    “He thinks Wayne is washed up. Burnt out and all talk. He doesn’t think he’d have the nerve to do something like this, or the creativity.” She sighed. “Maybe he’s right. I don’t know. I don’t know anything, except that I have a million things to do to get my show together, and less and