"Life is more than just chess.
Though king dies, life goes on."
― Toba Beta, Master of Stupidity
_________________
Six Years Later,
"Son of a bitch."
"I'm sorry, did you say something?" Clooney looks at me from across the table, standing precisely five-seven as he returns from the washroom, his beady eyes suspicious.
"No, Mr. Clooney, you were saying," I offer him a smile. As he starts again, I admit resentfully to myself that if not under this circumstance, I still wouldn't like this man any good.
"How will you compete with Chinese products?" He pushes the papers away gently, adding dully, "People are always looking for Chinese products."
"I think it doesn't concern me," I smile and halt when the waiter swoops in to clear the table. "I don't want my products to compete with others. After all, the quality of my products are higher than those and the price is lower."
Clooney sighs, tapping his finger on the glass table, and then retorts, "But this low price can only be possible when they function in the production cost and selling price you're offering, Mrs.Dale."
"We should have made a contingency plan," I nod regrettably much, my eyes still straining on him as I go through Jill's report in my hand, ticking off all possible events that can disrupt the operation by heart. "You'll have my revised proposal in a short time. You're right."
He looks satisfied as he takes the papers and stuffs them in a bright blue file. The file, however, goes into his briefcase.
"How is the campaign going along, Mr.Clooney?" I slide Jill's contingency plan towards him, admiring the red leather banquettes stretch through the black-walled room, beneath old photographs of Broadway and Hollywood legends. We sit at a table because business and I hate to see the man comfortable.
When he looks confused at the file I just pushed towards him, I continue, "You forgot this one."
"Oh, yes," he nods his head as he reaches for it, his briefcase still sitting on the table. "The road's still a little bumpy, Mrs.Dale."
"Well, the election does have a large impact on the tax concessions you have committed to us." My words have distracted him from whatever he's doing since he looks at me with avid attention now. "You might want to factor that in for later, Mr. Clooney."
He remains silent for a few seconds before his thin lips curve into a slow deliberate smile. "Mrs.Dale, as usual, you're right."
He stands now, so do I, watching him shut his briefcase with a click and extend his hand out. Satisfied with myself, I shake it.
There is an easy arrogance in this man, even the faint smell of his cologne gives away the vibe. It's a mercy when the meeting finishes. As much as I detest having these sort of men around me constantly pointing out my gender, I have to endure since so much business is done having them around.
As I step into the street of Midtown, leaving The Lambs Club behind, I'm a bit startled to see the sun still above me. It felt like hours in there. Settling into the car, I call Jason who answers after the first ring.
"Mrs. Dale."
"I'll pick up Silas. You can have the day off, Jason." I refresh my lipstick, peering into the rearview mirror.
YOU ARE READING
Here's to Us (Blood Money #2)
Romance"What we had is over, Dawn. You don't have to do this anymore. You're free to go." I traced the glass separating us with my fingers, looking into his green eyes and whispered to the phone, "So you want to know why I'm still here?" He just stare...
