What should I say? "It looks like Mr. Mackay may have a gambling problem."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"Did you confront him with it?"

"No." My father's sharp exhalation of breath sounded almost like a sigh. "That would look too much like spying."

"So where do I come in?"

"Well…you know about compulsive gamblers."

Meaning that I was one, myself. Or at least that's what my father thought.

He continued, "You could…get to know him. Talk to him…"

"Ask him if he's a compulsive gambler."

"No, of course not, but you know what I mean. You speak the same language. You know the symptoms. Find out his attitude toward gambling. But I don't want you to actually do any gambling with him."

Because I didn't know when to stop. But could I really accomplish anything? I glanced at my father. I hadn't seen him look so worried in a long time. I owed him something, if only because he hadn't kicked me out of the guesthouse when I was down on my luck. I said, "What about hiring a private detective to follow him around?"

"That's sleazy. Besides, I don't want to bring in an outsider. If word leaked out that our president was a compulsive gambler, that might really tank the stock."

Was the price of the stock all he worried about? I didn't know whether to be flattered or angry. He comes to me once in a lifetime for help and it's because of my gambling.

When I didn't say anything, my father said, "Of course I'll pay you-as a consultant. And your expenses. I'll get you an advance."

I stopped myself before blurting out that I didn't want his money. I was trying to become a businessman so I should act like one. But I still had the need to show some independence, so I said, "I don't need an advance. When would I start?"

"Immediately. You don't have anything else to do, do you?"