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“Typically, my clients don’t stare at me like I’m an animal in the zoo," she says. “Is it that obvious that I don’t belong here?”
“No,” I say and I’m pretty sure people are staring at her because of how beautiful she looks in her dress. I see at least a dozen male eyes linger on her breasts for too long and I have to grit my teeth to keep from physically attacking them. Or staking my claim some other way.
The possessiveness surprises me because I've never felt like that about a woman.
“How many?” she asks pulling me out of my violent fantasies.
“Huh?”
“How many people do we have to talk to to make this convincing enough so we can go?” She turns to me pleadingly and I have to think about it. I glance around, mentally picking out the most important people in the room, who I can stand to talk to, and gesture toward a distinguished woman with white hair and a deep frown.
“You see that lady standing over there?"
"Yes," she says.
“She's the right hand to the Governor of California and proposes agencies for their development projects. She's called The Fortress in the real estate world because she's pretty hard to reach and even harder to please. I got her for a commercial deal a few years ago, but she's avoided me ever since."
"A woman who's immune to your charms?" she muses. "I like her already."
I smile. "Thought you might." Then I gesture to another weaselly looking man in the corner. "And that's Arnaut Belvedere. A blogger, very well connected in the media. No relationship is official unless he announces it."
"So, obviously, he has to notice us. Got it." She nodded. "So, who do we tackle first?"
"The Fortress is far more pleasant."
"Then to the Fortress we go." A kind of confidence takes over as she straightens and starts toward the older woman, a smile spreading across her face as she does.
Clara Waldorf glances at us as we approach and though her face doesn't show her displeasure, I know she's not happy to see me.
"Clara," I say, holding out my hand for hers. "Lovely to see you again."
“I didn’t know you would be attending,” she says, but obliges to a handshake.
“Same to you,” I quip. Her eyes flicker curiously to Ava who is smiling and she asks, “Who's this?”
“My better half.”
Her gaze flickers between the two of us. “She’s new."
“I am," Ava says. “Well, new and old." She waves. "It's complicated. Let’s just say we go way back.”
She turns to wink at me flirtatiously and I have to admit, it's very convincing. I'm amused. Is this her idea of flirting?
Clara looks between the two of us. “I have a feeling I’m missing an inside joke.”
“It's not important," Ava says. "What is important is that I wanted to tell you that I am officially your new biggest fan."
She frowns bemused. "Do I know you?"
"Nope. And I'm not sure who you are either, but from what he tells me you’re pretty tough on him and that's good enough for me to like you."
She nods. "I try to be tough on him. I have a feeling he's been told yes too many times in his life, and I just might be his only client with common sense to avoid falling into his little traps."
"Traps?" I interject. "You wound me."
"And you insult me by thinking that I'm stupid enough not to see that the only reason you suggested building the new plaza on the other side of the highway was to stick it to your rival."
Ah. One of the few times my little game with Victor Paulino got in the way of my money.
