date. Everything will be fine. You just have to have to be a little patient. All right?”
“Patience has never been one of my strong suits.” As if to underscore the feeling, she flipped the now-mutilated straw onto the tabletop. It wasn’t a pretty picture. I reached over to cover her hand with mine.
“It’ll work out. You just have to have a little faith.”
Her laugh was hollow. “‘Faith’ isn’t exactly a catchword in my industry. We deal in tangible facts. Everything in the detail.”
“So concentrate on the fact that you had fun. Despite his backing off, I’m betting Stanley felt the same way. You belong together,” I said, channeling a Miss America smile. “I know what I’m doing, so relax and let me handle this.”
She nodded, although she didn’t look completely convinced. Not that I blamed her. I’m good, make no mistake, but matchmaking is a very inexact science. All of which begged the question as to what in the world I’d been thinking agreeing to take on Mark Grayson. The man was a born bachelor. (Did you know that the term “confirmed bachelor” was a euphemism for gay in the forties and fifties? I had no idea. Nor, I suspect, does my mother, who throws the term around with the abandon of the totally uninformed.)
Anyway, all terminology aside, the honest truth is that I’m in over my head—no question about it.
“I heard that Althea’s wearing Ungaro,” Belinda said, segueing nicely into my panic.
The idea of Althea seducing a man with her wardrobe was almost laughable. Almost. The point here was that she was arming with stronger weapons than mine. But, quite frankly, my bank account couldn’t support anything that pricey. I’d just have to rely on a combo of Wendy Hill, Jimmy Choo, and the new Manolos I’d bought last week. The sum of which surely equaled Ungaro. Especially when adorning my considerably younger body.
“I’ve got Manolos.” It was an “I’ll see yours and up the ante” moment and Althea wasn’t even in the room.
“You’ll do fine.” Belinda smiled. “Just remember Grayson doesn’t like phonies.”
Oh God, I was a born a phony, came from a long line of them. Bullshitting was like a family name. “Do you know Mark Grayson?”
“Casually,” she nodded. “Our firm has handled some of his corporate maneuvering.”
“So spill.”
“Really, I don’t have all that much to share. But during a conference, Grayson asked for some stats we clearly didn’t have. And instead of admitting the fact, a junior associate tried to bluff. Grayson caught him in the lie, and threatened to walk.”
“What happened?” I sipped my coffee feeling a lot like someone had slipped a noose around my neck.
“The associate was fired, and we did everything but throw ourselves prostrate on the floor. The man was pissed. And deservedly so. All I’m saying is whatever you do, stick to the truth. And don’t mince words.”
“What else?”
“I don’t know.” She frowned, pursing her lips as she considered the question. “He’s very self-contained. The kind who expects you to follow his train of thought even when he hasn’t vocalized it. He’s tough in that silent, condemning kind of way. Frankly, he scares the shit out of me. Too intense. You know the type.”
“Oh God, what was I thinking? I must have been out of my mind to have agreed to the bet.” No more martinis—ever.
“No . . . ,” she started, then shook her head and grinned. “Well, maybe a little. But that doesn’t mean you can’t succeed. You just have to play to his weaknesses.”
“Except that I have no idea what they are.” There’d been absolutely no time for anything but the most cursory research. “I Googled him, of course. But even with that, it’s hard to put together a realistic picture. He’s a deal maker. A whiz with property development. If you believe the press he’s single-handedly revitalized something like seven major cities.”
“Twelve, actually,” Belinda
“Patience has never been one of my strong suits.” As if to underscore the feeling, she flipped the now-mutilated straw onto the tabletop. It wasn’t a pretty picture. I reached over to cover her hand with mine.
“It’ll work out. You just have to have a little faith.”
Her laugh was hollow. “‘Faith’ isn’t exactly a catchword in my industry. We deal in tangible facts. Everything in the detail.”
“So concentrate on the fact that you had fun. Despite his backing off, I’m betting Stanley felt the same way. You belong together,” I said, channeling a Miss America smile. “I know what I’m doing, so relax and let me handle this.”
She nodded, although she didn’t look completely convinced. Not that I blamed her. I’m good, make no mistake, but matchmaking is a very inexact science. All of which begged the question as to what in the world I’d been thinking agreeing to take on Mark Grayson. The man was a born bachelor. (Did you know that the term “confirmed bachelor” was a euphemism for gay in the forties and fifties? I had no idea. Nor, I suspect, does my mother, who throws the term around with the abandon of the totally uninformed.)
Anyway, all terminology aside, the honest truth is that I’m in over my head—no question about it.
“I heard that Althea’s wearing Ungaro,” Belinda said, segueing nicely into my panic.
The idea of Althea seducing a man with her wardrobe was almost laughable. Almost. The point here was that she was arming with stronger weapons than mine. But, quite frankly, my bank account couldn’t support anything that pricey. I’d just have to rely on a combo of Wendy Hill, Jimmy Choo, and the new Manolos I’d bought last week. The sum of which surely equaled Ungaro. Especially when adorning my considerably younger body.
“I’ve got Manolos.” It was an “I’ll see yours and up the ante” moment and Althea wasn’t even in the room.
“You’ll do fine.” Belinda smiled. “Just remember Grayson doesn’t like phonies.”
Oh God, I was a born a phony, came from a long line of them. Bullshitting was like a family name. “Do you know Mark Grayson?”
“Casually,” she nodded. “Our firm has handled some of his corporate maneuvering.”
“So spill.”
“Really, I don’t have all that much to share. But during a conference, Grayson asked for some stats we clearly didn’t have. And instead of admitting the fact, a junior associate tried to bluff. Grayson caught him in the lie, and threatened to walk.”
“What happened?” I sipped my coffee feeling a lot like someone had slipped a noose around my neck.
“The associate was fired, and we did everything but throw ourselves prostrate on the floor. The man was pissed. And deservedly so. All I’m saying is whatever you do, stick to the truth. And don’t mince words.”
“What else?”
“I don’t know.” She frowned, pursing her lips as she considered the question. “He’s very self-contained. The kind who expects you to follow his train of thought even when he hasn’t vocalized it. He’s tough in that silent, condemning kind of way. Frankly, he scares the shit out of me. Too intense. You know the type.”
“Oh God, what was I thinking? I must have been out of my mind to have agreed to the bet.” No more martinis—ever.
“No . . . ,” she started, then shook her head and grinned. “Well, maybe a little. But that doesn’t mean you can’t succeed. You just have to play to his weaknesses.”
“Except that I have no idea what they are.” There’d been absolutely no time for anything but the most cursory research. “I Googled him, of course. But even with that, it’s hard to put together a realistic picture. He’s a deal maker. A whiz with property development. If you believe the press he’s single-handedly revitalized something like seven major cities.”
“Twelve, actually,” Belinda
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