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“There’s a reason we say a picture paints a thousand words. Unfortunately, every heterosexual man with a functioning libido is going to pay more attention initially to how you look and move than what you say,” said Cal. Despite still wearing his coat and being all the way across the white expanse, he sucked all the moisture out of her mouth. “If your target hasn’t spared a few brain cells to wonder if he can get you into bed, he’s a better man than me.”
It wasn’t the time to point out he had already gotten her willingly into a room with a bed. “This isn’t about me. It’s about Dollars for Daughters.”
Zeke wrinkled his nose. “That’s the name of it?”
Oh, hold on. She didn’t come here to be insulted. She and Lenny had worked hard on that name. It was clear it was about women and families, and there was the sense of generational ambition—mothers passing on their skills to daughters and the standard of living improving over time. And it was catchy. Memorable. “Dollars for Sons didn’t have the same ring to it.”
Cal did a sideways thing with his lips, part smile, part stifling of some expression he didn’t want to show. It was idiotically adorable. “It’s workable.”
“It’s sexist,” said Zeke.
“It’s meant to be,” she snapped. She appealed to Cal, pointing at Zeke. “Does he have to be here?”
Cal lowered his chin. If he wore glasses, he’d be looking over the top of them at her. Distractingly adorable. “He’s here so you don’t hate me.” Aww. Except this was all, W word wrong.
Zeke looked at the ceiling. “Okay then. Back to the pitch. Let’s start again without the W word.”
“I’m confused.” What made them want to help anyway? “Why do you even care?”
“That was a W word.” Zeke shook his head.
What was another word for why? “Um.” Oh my God, there was no other word for why in the whole English language. How did she not know that before?
“Sherwoods care because we can. And helping you and D4D makes us look good,” said Cal. “It’s not anything more sinister than that.”
“But you could simply donate, and then we’d all be less miserable.” And then maybe she could be in an altered dimension with Cal, in a bed, and this time, he wouldn’t run off.
“Dollars for Daughters isn’t about handouts. It’s about helping women help themselves and their families, so they’re not dependent on charity. Or do I have that wrong?” he said.
Stealth-level listener. “You know you’re not wrong, Cal Sherwood.”
“Let’s work on your pitch, so you’re not dependent on anyone.”
“Don’t push me around.” Unless it’s up against a wall, a table…
“Zeke was mean to you,” Cal said. “Me, on the other hand, I’m just making sure you’re aware it’s a tough world, there’s no such thing as fair, and you have to fight for what you believe in.” He leaned forward, and his eyes were full of shadows. “Don’t let someone with an attitude, a bigger wallet, or a louder mouth push you off course. Because they will.” His voice got hard, and it made Fin instantly tense. “Any sniff of weakness, any sign of softness, and you’re prey. What you want most becomes a thing someone else will use against you.”
“Cal, now you’re frightening her.”
Oh yes. That was a Cal she hadn’t yet met. Not the grump in the bar, not the polished master of the universe who’d gotten them a hotel room, or the man who’d wanted her and denied himself. This new Cal was stressed, weary, and punchy.
And then he dropped out of that dystopia and rubbed his eyes. “I mean to say, we’re experts at the art of the pitch, but we don’t often share that expertise.”
“We never share it,” said Zeke. “And at some point before he dies, Cal is going to enlighten me as to what he proposes we share now.”
Cal looked at Zeke. “The whole confidence game in a way Fin can use it.”
Zeke stiffened as if he’d been poked hard in a private place. “You want to bring Fin in on our special freaking sauce? Did you get brain damage all of a sudden?”
“The theory, Zeke,” Cal said with impatience that crackled. “We show Fin the ingredients and help her put them together and use the techniques for her charity.”
Zeke stood. He pointed out to the corridor and in a fake polite voice said, “Can I see you outside a moment?”
Cal breathed out through his nose. “Excuse me while I go and pound some sense into my brother.”
Fin swiveled her chair to watch the two of them leave the room. The mood shift was a climate change. Zeke closed the sliding glass door, and their voices were underwater bubbles. She could see their mouths moving and hear the burble, but not make out any words. At one point, Zeke slapped a hand on the glass, and then there was laughter; it was definitely laughter because they were still laughing when they came back inside.
“We’re going to teach you the game. In a way that doesn’t cause anyone any trouble,” said Zeke.
