"Undo": A Novel

It was a bright, hazy morning, not yet seven o'clock, but already hot and humid, which wasn't so unusual for a June day in New York City. William Harrell braced himself for the...

As he guided the black BMW coupe onto Highway 280, Matthew Locke felt as though his mind was spinning as quickly as the wheels propelling him onward. Whether the one functioned...

She stood and admired the bowl from different angles, marveling at how the spotlight shining down on it created rainbow effects and prismatic distortions. She had displayed the...

"Hallelujah!" Kate shouted, watching as the beard that had grown long and scraggy over the past few months disappear into the sink. Peter paused for a moment and winked at her i...

"Matthew, this is everything." Eileen said, placing a manila folder before him on his desk. "You've got about ten minutes before the meeting begins," she said, then closed his o...

How could she face Jean-Pierre? She wanted him, yes, but she had felt awful after Saturday night, struggling to understand her motivation, her fantasy of having him. Was she onl...

After eleven o'clock he left the ICP headquarters building for a ten-block ride to an exclusive men's athletic club whose clientele consisted entirely of high-level executives....

Eating breakfast in the cafe had become part of Peter's daily routine. The waitress greeted him as he sat with his usual pile of newspapers. She returned with a cup of coffee, a...

Opening the front door of his home, Peter was suddenly assaulted by a strange blaring voice and shouts of laughter. The cacophony grew louder and more vexing as he neared the co...

Matthew was surrounded by the kind of opulence afforded only by companies at the highest reaches of the Fortune 500. Plush carpets, deep, rich wooden desks, fine art originals,...

"Matthew, it's all so positive," Laurence Maupin said with smiling allegiance as she closed the copy of the "Wall Street Journal" resting on his desk. "You've got the press in t...

"Speaking of tired, you men must be working yourselves to the bone with all the progress you've made," William said, handling Isle to Peter. "When do you expect to have a final...

After bolting from the boardroom, Matthew called William Harrell's secretary at ICP in New York, and she confirmed what he already knew: William was out of town, and was due bac...

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, companies, products, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and a...

Peter snapped awake. "What time is it?" he asked as he shakily rose to his feet. Dr. Chen gently steadied him. Daylight shone through the windows at the end of the hall. He glan...

The seating was already jammed to nearly full capacity as thousands of Wallaby employees filled the auditorium. A few front rows remained vacant, reserved for VIPs and the press...

It was on days like this, bright and sunny with a slight morning chill, that she felt happier than ever. With Matthew in New York on business, Greta had given the housekeeper th...

His plan was approaching its final stages. Yesterday's strategic alliance announcement had been deemed an enormous success by the press, and in just a few short months the plan'...

For one and a half months she had been home with Peter, deemed well enough leave the hospital after a touch-and-go stay for the same length of time. She weighed a scant six and...

William Harrell's meeting with his advisers had been taxing. Both had recommended that ICP begin the accelerated development of the prototype BPX ultra-portable computer - a pro...

"Hi," Matthew said brightly. He dropped his garment bag and briefcase in the doorway, strolled past her without so much as a glance, and went to the kitchen, where he poured him...

They were together again now, backstage at Lincoln Center in New York City, preparing for the announcement of ICP and Wallaby's strategic alliance before an audience of executiv...

It was all Matthew could think of as he sat at the breakfast table with his head in his hands. It was over. His work. His love. His life. All gone.

It was not because he missed sleeping in the same bed with Greta. That, of course, had ended. Nor was it because he missed sleeping with Laurence. At almost exactly the same tim...

Peter sat on the rug with his legs crossed, Isle in a bundle beside him, and together they listened to Kate's soothing voice mingle with the sound of the light rainfall outside.

Her tears had caused her mascara to run all over the pillow in black streaks. Applied two nights ago, the night of their anniversary, her makeup was all gone now from her puffy...