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He gazes back at me. “I see.”
“Is it all right if I begin with some introductory questions? Just to get to know you better and round out your client profile.”
“Go ahead,” he says. Still with that half-scowl, half-amused look on his face. Like he can’t believe he’s actually here, sitting in this chair, about to do this.
I pick up a notepad and lean back in my chair, crossing my legs. Always better to have the first meeting face-to-face, to connect with a client. The computer comes later.
“Remind me,” I say, “how old are you?”
“Thirty-three.”
“Terrific.” I note it down. “Now, I understand your reticence about us as a company, but I assure you, you’re in good hands. We’ll be transparent about the entire process.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Are you looking for a male or female partner?”
There’s a smile on his face. “I’m interested in women.”
“Excellent.”
“Will you praise me after each answer?”
“Only if you’d like me to.” I lower the notepad. “Actually, how do you feel about praise? Is it a vital part of a relationship, or just good to have?”
“Knowing that,” he says, skepticism lacing every word, “will help me find a life partner?”
“Well, it will help me learn more about what kind of person you are. How you see relationships in general. Let me ask you this instead: what’s your ideal long-term relationship?”
“I’m not sure I believe in long-term relationships.”
I put the notepad back on my desk. This one has been burned indeed. He should have walked in stamped with a giant red caution sticker. “And why is that?”
“True love is a fairy tale,” he says. “Nothing lasts in life, and certainly not love.”
There’s a quick succession of knocks on my office door. I don’t have the time to reply before it’s opened, my elegant aunt on the other side. Her face turns into a serviceable smile as soon as she sees the two of us.
“I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” she says, breathing fast. “I’ll be happy to meet with you in my office now. Summer, would you mind getting Mr. Winter and myself a cup of coffee?”
My heart stops as I look from her to the man in front of me, the one who never gave me his name. The one who didn’t say a word when I made my assumptions.
He rises from his seat and buttons his suit jacket in one smooth gesture. “A pleasure meeting you, Miss Davis,” he says. “It was very enlightening.”
2
Summer
Ace trods by my side to work the next day, close at heel, one of the few things he’s kept from his guide dog training.
“Look at that,” I tell him as we pass afor salesign on the door to Charlotte’s Coffee Corner. For years, it’s been one of my New York staples, a familiar part of the route I take to and from work.
I should have bought more coffee there. If only I did, she might not have had to sell. To go out of business. To surrender to someone else’s demands.
Anthony Winter and Acture Capital can do whatever they want with Opate now, the clientele, the staff. Vivienne spent weeks pouring over the contract, but even so… I don’t trust it.
I don’t trust him. He’d said not a word to correct my false assumptions yesterday. Vivienne had sent me an apologetic email after he left, the subject line in all caps. I MISTOOK THE DAY!
Ace’s tail wags as we step into the lobby of our office building and I smooth my hand over his silky ears. He’s beautiful, my loyal dog, the one I can always count on. Good thing my aunt agrees with me. She likes to say having an animal in the office gives it soul, and I’m grateful for that, because I can’t imagine leaving him with my parents.
