The Emissary by Patricia Cori Page B

vacuous faces passing in the night. Her presence was disarming and she had this very magical quality about her. Everywhere she went, people noticed—both men and women alike.
    Even though she’d never before set eyes on him, Jamie walked right up to Mat, who was at the front desk, on the house phone. He had his back to her, yet she intuitively knew it was he. He could feel a presence from across the room but, when he turned to see who was approaching, he was amazed to see Jamie walking straight towards him. It was not that often that someone could catch him off guard. In fact, it was just about next to impossible.
    “Mat Anderson?” she asked, stretching her hand out to greet him.
    Mat was visibly taken aback. “Well now, that is impressive, I have to say.” They shook hands. “I mean, wowee. I guess there aren’t too many women who can walk up to strange men in hotels like you can.” He bit his lip, knowing how the comment could easily have been interpreted as a real insult and he hadn’t meant it to be. “What I mean is, it must be nice bein’ able to just cut through formalities and all that.”
    “It is,” Jamie said, feeling quietly pleased that she had managed to catch him with his guard down, and fumbling. It was a great way to begin the evening’s negotiations, which were bound to be forthcoming, sometime closer to cocktails than dinner.
    “Well, then, let’s have a drink to no formalities between us,” he said, motioning towards the restaurant. “I actually reserved dinner here tonight—it’s one of my favorite places … best Italian food in town, and I know the chef personally.” He placed his hand gently on Jamie’s back and guided her towards the restaurant entrance,where the maitre d’ welcomed him by name and immediately escorted them to a private dining room.
    As they were being seated, Mat said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t ever talk business in a crowded room. The walls have ears … I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”
    Jamie was thinking, “Oh, honey, if only you knew!”
    He waved over the waiter. “A bottle of your finest.” He then turned his attention to Jamie. “I want to thank you for accepting my invitation, for starters.”
    Jamie thanked him back. In all fairness, he was the one jumping through all the hoops to make the meeting happen. All she’d done was to accept his more than gracious hospitality.
    The waiter returned with a bottle of vintage Cristal, popped the cork, and poured. Mat tasted the champagne, and nodded his approval, before the waiter poured for Jamie. He set the bottle in the ice bucket, and walked away, discreetly.
    Mat proposed a toast to their “mutually beneficial union,” and the conversation was off and running.
    “I hope my crew took good care of you on the way over.”
    “I almost didn’t want to get off the plane,” she replied. “Thank you, Mat. That was a very generous thing to do.”
    “That’s fine. My pleasure. We aim to please.” He took his cell phone from his pocket, opened the back casing, and removed the battery before placing it on the table in front of him. “So I guess by now you have fully understood that I have something very important I need to discuss with you.”
    “I guess!” Jamie answered, sipping the world’s finest champagne from a beautiful Waterford cut crystal flute. One thing was certain—whatever he planned to talk about, he definitely did not want anyone else in on it.
    “I’m not good at small talk, so excuse me if I cut right to it here. I have got to tell you, Miss Jamie, I have never in my life heard ofanything like what you did for them Pakis, out there in the desert. I could barely believe it when I first heard about it—when I was, shall we say, investigating y’all.”
    Jamie sat back in her chair, placing her glass back down on the table, feeling suddenly defensive. “And to what do I owe the honor of being investigated by the CEO of USOIL, Mr.