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“Watch what happens in part two,” said Zeke. He turned to Cal. “I’ll certainly take a donation if you insist.”
“What level of donation are you looking for?”
“I do declare, I’m embarrassed to name it,” Zeke said. He was one big clown. “You truly don’t have to do this. But I’m looking for twenty-five thousand apiece from initial donors.”
Fin made a choking sound.
“That’s not an issue.” Cal picked up his cell and mimed a transaction. “Here, I’m transferring the money now. In fact, I’ll give you a little more than you asked for, thirty-five thousand.”
“Ah, Cal. I can’t thank you enough. You’re now a first bronze-level donor.”
And that was the Breakdown. “Bronze.” He said it as though the concept was an affront.
“Yes, the gold level asking price is one hundred and fifty thou.”
“Why didn’t you say that?”
“I didn’t want to presume. You have other concerns.”
“But I agreed this is great cause.” And now for the Send and the Touch.
Zeke said, “Seriously, you’ve done enough.”
“No, look, here’s another one fifty kay, and really, it’s a great cause. I’m proud to be a gold donor.”
And there was the Fix.
When he turned again, Fin had slid down in her chair so her chin was almost level with the table. “You guys are trolling me.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s an act you have for gullible, wannabe charity hopefuls like me.” She shifted upright. “That was all backwards and upside down. Zeke didn’t know anything about D4D to sell it, and you didn’t ask any questions, and then you argued. This is some kind of sideshow act for you both.”
She was upset, and Cal almost laughed. He’d forgotten how foreign this would be to someone from the outside. He walked around the table and sat beside her, and when she didn’t swivel her chair to face him, he gave it a nudge and watched as her feet firmed on the floor so she stayed facing Zeke.
“It won’t work exactly like that for you in the beginning,” said Zeke. “But we promise it will work for your charity.”
She’d need a spotter like real catfish noodlers used. Someone to point out the trout, make introductions, smooth the way. Cal would be her spotter, bring her the big fish, help her land them, and protect her from uglier predators. And it would be another test for what he could make of Finley Cartwright.
But she wasn’t buying.
Yet.
“It was so boys’ club and superficial and manipulative.”
“It’s a formula, and it’s surprisingly sophisticated.” Cal looked at Zeke. “Thank you. I’ll take it from here.”
Zeke stood. “Fin, it was great to meet you. I hope to hear you’ve made a lot of mothers and daughters happy.” He left, and still Fin wouldn’t look at Cal.
“You’re mad at me.”
“You’re a psychic.” She wouldn’t see his grin, which was just as well—she wouldn’t like it. “Can you see the future, too?”
He nudged her chair again, and this time she let him turn it. She looked like someone stole her Christmas. “I can see the future.”
“You think you can teach me how to pitch like that.”
“I know I can.”
