“Thanks, Saul.”
In business, always use first names. It’s not disrespectful. It shows that you’re an equal—in the same league. That’s huge.
“And based on what you’ve shown me, I’m ready to give Evans, Reinhart and Fisher my business.”
Yes! Break out the champagne, baby.
“I’m pleased to hear that. I think this deal is going to be very profitable for both—that is, all of us.” Can’t forget Kate, right? As if she would let me. “You can put your complete confidence in Kate and me. We won’t let you down.”
He fingers his crystal glass. “Right. About that. Before I sign, I have only one contingency.”
This kind of thing happens all the time. Not a big deal.
“Go ahead, Saul. I’m sure we can provide whatever you need.”
“I’m happy to hear that. So, why don’t you have that darling girl of yours—Kate—bring the contracts by my place tonight, around midnight.” He hands me a business card, and I feel like there’s a boulder in my stomach.
Can you feel it too?
“Here’s where I’m staying. You have her bring the papers…alone.”
You know on TV when there’s one of those awkward, shocking moments and all you hear are the crickets in the background?
Well chirp-fucking-chirp. This is one of those moments.
“I’m not sure I…”
“Oh, sure you do, Drew. You know how it is. When a man’s working late and needs a little…comfort. A distraction.”
How about my foot up your ass, Saul? How’d that be for distraction?
“And that girl of yours is one prime piece. My business will bring your firm millions in revenue. And that’s not including the additional clients you’ll get once word gets around that I’m with you. I’d say a little after-hours servicing is a small price to pay, wouldn’t you?”
He makes sense—in a sick, perverted, registered-sex-offender kind of way. But do you think that matters? Hell no. I stand up. I’m afraid of what I’ll do if I have to look at his smug, shit-eating grin another minute.
I throw a dozen bills on the table and tell him, “That’s not the kind of business we’re in. If that’s the sort of deal you’re looking for, Forty-Second Street is about ten blocks that way. I’m no pimp, and Katherine Brooks is certainly not a whore. This meeting is over.”
Aren’t you proud of me? I am. Though what I just said was in no way satisfying, it was professional—dignified. I kept it together. I didn’t even call him the ass-licking, dick-bag piece of steaming dog shit that I think he is. Go me.
I walk toward the bar area in the next room, and I’m fuming. Can you see the steam coming out of my ears? No? Well, obviously you’re not looking hard enough. That guy’s got some set of balls. To fucking suggest that Kate…Kate is more than just a pretty face. She’s brilliant. And funny. And—okay, maybe she’s not nice, but I’m sure she could be if she didn’t hate my guts. In any case, she deserves better—more respect—than what she just got. So much more.
That’s when I see her, walking past the bar on her way back from the restroom. She spots me and walks over, a smile spread across her face.
“So? How’d it go? He’s with us, isn’t he? I knew it, Drew! I knew the minute we showed him our projections he was done. And I know working together hasn’t been the easiest thing, but I think your father was right. We do make a pretty good team, don’t we?”
I swallow hard. I look down at her hand on my arm and then back up into those sweet, innocent eyes, and…I just can’t do it. I can’t tell her.
“I blew it, Kate. Anderson’s not interested.”
“What? What do you mean? What happened?”
I stare at my nine-hundred-dollar shoes. “I screwed up. Can we just get out of here?”
When I look back up, her face is a mask of confused sympathy. Here I just told her that I blew the account—our account—and there’s not a trace of anger in her expression. God, I’m such an asshole.
“Well, let me talk to him. Maybe I can fix this.”
I shake my head, “No, you can’t.”
“Let me at least try.”
“Kate, wait…” But she’s already walking away, toward the table where Anderson still sits.
You ever been on the freeway, stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic? And when you finally get to the head of the line, you realize the backup is because of an accident? Maybe not a bad one—maybe just a fender bender that’s already been moved to the side of the road. And all that traffic—all that wasted time—is because every driver who passes the scene has to slow down and take a look.